Crossing the line with the Rival Hockey Captain

Chapter5

Abby's POV

The cafeteria feels different today. No one’s eating. Everyone’s waiting.

The news about the skills test had spread like wildfire, and now it was all anyone could talk about.

The rink was completely restricted, Coach’s orders. I knew that for a fact, because Kayla had tried to flirt her way past the monitor on duty earlier, batting her lashes and putting on that sickly-sweet voice of hers. For once, it hadn’t worked.

As satisfying as it was to see her not getting what she wanted, the small victory didn’t last.

Instead, a tight knot formed in my stomach.

What if Jaxon wins this? And worse, how would Caleb take it?

I don’t have time to spiral before the answers come rushing in.

The cafeteria doors burst open, and Stephen, whose brother plays defense on the hockey team, comes running in, phone held high like it’s breaking news.

“IT’S OVER!” he yells.

The entire cafeteria goes dead silent.

“Lockwood’s now starting center!” he yells. “Caleb’s still captain!”

Chaos explodes instantly.

“What?”

“No way!”

Dawn who's sitting beside me grabs my arm instantly. “Oh my God, Abby can you believe this?”

But I barely hear her. My thoughts are already somewhere else.

This… can’t be good.

—

It’s night time now, and I can’t help but feel sick with worry. Two things have been running through my mind nonstop.

First, Caleb.

He hasn’t said a word to me since the skills test. The moment we got home, he went straight to his room and locked the door behind him, not even bothering to show his face even for dinner.

But then there’s Jaxon.

Dad had given him permission to go out and celebrate his win with some of his old Everglade friends. But the thing is Dad is strict about curfews. Always has been. 10 p.m. is 10 p.m., no excuses, no exceptions.

The problem?

It’s 1 a.m. now past midnight and Jaxon still isn’t home.

Earlier, around nine, I’d been sitting in the living room when Dad glanced up from his paperwork to ask if Jaxon was back yet.

I froze.

“Yes,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “He got back a while ago. He’s in his room.”

Dad nodded, satisfied, and headed upstairs not long after.

I don’t know why I cared so much that I even covered for Jaxon.

All I know is that now I regret it, because if Dad finds out Jaxon stayed out past curfew, after being trusted, he won’t just be upset. He’ll be furious.

My phone is clutched tightly in my hand as I stare at the clock, then my screen suddenly lights up with an incoming call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” I say cautiously.

“A–Abby… come get the door.” The familiar voice slurs.

“Jaxon?”

I bolt out of my room, careful to keep my steps quiet despite the strain on my ankle, and swing the front door open.

Jaxon is barely standing. He looks like an absolute mess with his hair disheveled, eyes glassy, body swaying like the ground won’t cooperate with him.

“Oh God,” I whisper. “You’re drunk.”

He laughs, the sound loose and sloppy. “Thanks.”

He starts to tip forward, and I rush to grab him before he collapses completely. His weight nearly knocks me off balance.

“I did not sign up for this,” I mutter under my breath as I shut the door quietly behind us.

Getting him up the stairs is awful. My ankle protests with every step, and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep going. By the time we reach the hallway, I’m already breathless.

Then I see it.

The light beneath my Dad’s bedroom door flickers on.

“s**t,” I hiss.

Without thinking, I shove open my bedroom door and drag Jaxon inside, pushing him onto my bed with a soft thud. I lock the door and turn off the light just as Jaxon decides to speak loudly.

“Hey, Dalton, listen—”

I rush back and clamp my hand over his mouth.

The movement is so instinctive I don’t even realize I’ve climbed onto the bed and I'm now laying on top of him.

Then, there's a knock from the door.

“Abby?” Dad’s voice carries through the door.

My heart stops.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe.

After a few seconds, I hear his retreating footsteps and then finally his door slams shut loudly.

I sigh in relief. That could have ended very badly.

When I look down, Jaxon is staring straight at me.

His icy blue eyes catch me off guard. My room is completely dark except my window is wide open and the moonlight spilling in through, amplifies his beautiful eyes.

Then I notice it. A fresh silver piercing on his right eyebrow, the skin around it slightly red, meaning he just got it done.

What kind of celebration did he go to?

I pull my hand away from his mouth and try to sit up but his arms wrap around my waist tightly and he doesn’t let go.

“Let go, Jaxon,” I whisper.

He keeps staring at me, then a slow smirk spreads across his lips. “Bet you couldn’t wait till you had me in this position.”

I scoff, irritation flaring. It's the first time Jaxon’s ever said anything this cocky to me. But then again, it's also the first time he's said a full sentence to me.

I choose to ignore his little statement and repeat myself, my tone firmer this time, “Let go, Jaxon.”

“Or else what?” he cuts in. “You’ll pin me down again? ’Cause you’ll do anything to get my attention… ever since I got here.”

I stare at him, stunned.

The arrogance, the assumption…

“You have the wrong impression,” I snap. “You’re wrong. I—”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, dragging the sound out.

One arm loosens from my waist and his fingers brush a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. My breath hitches and my heart starts to pound uncontrollably.

His thumb then traces the outline of my lips.

“If I’m so wrong,” he says quietly, eyes locked on mine, “then try to stop me.”

And then—

He kisses me.

It’s sudden. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft, pressing against mine with a confidence that steals the breath from my lungs. I don’t kiss back. I don’t pull away either.

My eyes stay wide open in shock.

After a few seconds, he pulls back, clearly satisfied. He bites his lower lip and then the alcohol finally wins.

His grip loosens and his head drops back against the pillow. He’s out cold.

I scramble upright immediately, heart racing.

What the hell just happened? Did Jaxon just kiss me?

I stare at him, anger bubbling up but he’s already gone, breathing slow and even.

That night, I leave him passed out on my bed and I take the bean bag instead, staring at the ceiling long after sleep finally finds me, the weight of what happened pressing heavily on my chest.

—

The next morning, I wake up to a knock on my door. I get up in panic when I realise I'm still laying on the bean bag and with Jaxon nowhere to be found.

Relief hits first, then the memory and then a newly found anger.

How dare Jaxon assume I wanted his attention. How dare he kiss me without asking. How dare he mistake my kindness for desperation!

That cocky little…

I hear another knock and it immediately snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Abby, It’s Caleb.”

“Oh, come in!”

Caleb steps inside, visibly irritated, but there’s this sadness in his eyes he doesn’t bother to hide. He looks straight at me with a frown before speaking.

“Abby,” He begins with an authoritative tone, “I want you to stay away from Jaxon.”

I blink in shock. “Caleb—”

“Abby, open your eyes…” He interjects, moving closer to take a seat at the edge of my bed, “This is exactly what he wants, beating us as rivals wasn’t enough for him. Now he’s here, taking my position, stirring the team away from me.”

I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me interrupt.

“He may be wearing our colors, playing on our rink, and staying under our roof,” he says, his voice dropping, “but that doesn’t make him one of us.”

I watch the hurt flicker across his face.

“Don’t trust him, Abby,” Caleb adds quietly. “And don’t mistake a few decent acts for something they’re not. Stay away from Jaxon. For your own good.”