Asher’s POV
Steam clings to the bathroom mirror in my hotel room. I towel off slowly. Mechanical movements. Trying to quiet the racing thoughts that won't stop no matter what I do.
Tomorrow's game loops in my head. The plays we've practiced. The strategies we've planned. The opponent we'll face across enemy ice.
Blaze.
His name surfaces like a wound that won't heal. Bringing memories I can't afford right now.
The airport. His arm around Sophie. The casual way he dismissed me to his teammates. And Sophie herself. Smiling. Waving. Acting like she belonged in his life when everything about her presence feels wrong.
Too convenient. Too perfect. Too calculated beneath that friendly exterior.
I hang up the towel and stare at my reflection in the foggy mirror. The man looking back seems like a stranger. Hollow eyes. Tight jaw. Someone unraveling thread by thread.
My phone buzzes on the counter. I grab it without thinking. Muscle memory. The constant checking that's become second nature since the threats started.
Unknown number. My stomach drops before I even read the words.
"Can't wait for tomorrow's game. Let’s hope nothing... unfortunate happens."
My blood runs cold.
A threat. A direct threat. Not subtle innuendo this time. Not vague warnings about secrets and patience. This is specific, about tomorrow’s game.
Is someone here? At the hotel? Watching me right now through walls I thought were safe?
Will they be at the arena tomorrow? In the stands among thousands of faces? On the ice where I'm supposed to be untouchable?
The walls close in on me again, the bathroom shrinking around me. Steam suddenly suffocates instead of soothing.
Paranoia claws up my spine. Every sound amplified. Every shadow, suspicious. Every creak of the building transformed into footsteps approaching.
My teammates in the rooms around me. Could one of them be behind this? Someone I trust. Someone I've shared locker rooms with for years.
The hotel staff who smiled at check-in. The reporters who crowded the lobby. The fans who asked for autographs with shaking hands and bright eyes. Anyone could be watching. Anyone could be the threat.
I can't breathe. Lungs refusing to cooperate. Chest tight like someone's sitting on it. Pressing down with all their weight.
I need air. Need to move. I need to escape this tiny bathroom before I lose my mind completely.
I pull on clothes without looking. Stumble out into the hotel room. Then into the hallway. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but alone with my thoughts.
The corridor is quiet. Late evening. Most people in their rooms or at dinner. Just empty carpet stretching in both directions.
I walk without direction. No destination in mind. Just movement. One foot in front of the other. Anything to outrun the panic nipping at my heels.
My heart pounds against my ribs. Eyes scanning every shadow. Every closed door. Every corner that could hide someone waiting.
Hope nothing unfortunate happens.
What does that mean? Physical harm on the ice? A hit that looks accidental? Public exposure that destroys everything I've built?
Something worse I can't even imagine?
Not knowing is the worst part. The endless possibilities spiraling through my brain like a tornado I can't escape.
Then—Sophie. Rounding the corner ahead. Nearly colliding with me before either of us can stop.
She stumbles back. Hand flying to her chest in surprise. Then recognition dawns and her expression shifts into something practiced.
That smile slides into place. Polished. Pleasant. The one she wears like armor against anyone who might see beneath.
"Oh, Asher! Hi." Her voice is cheerful. Friendly. Like we're old acquaintances running into each other at a party. "Fancy running into you here. Big game tomorrow, huh? You must be so…"
"Cut the act."
My voice comes out ice cold. Harder than I intended. But I can't stop now. Can't pretend anymore.
"Excuse me?"
"Who are you trying so hard for?" I step closer. Invading her space. "And why?"
Her smile falters. First crack in the perfect facade. Something flickering behind her eyes that looks almost like calculation.
"I don't know what you're implying."
"You show up out of nowhere." Another step forward. She retreats. "Attach yourself to Blaze. Charm his parents into thinking you're the answer to their prayers."
She backs up further. I follow. Predator and prey. Roles reversing from what she probably expected.
"What's your game, Sophie?"
"I don't have a game." Her voice sharpens. Defensive now. Dropping the sugary sweetness. "Blaze and I have history. Real history. And I’m not hiding what I want from him."
The words hit like a punch to the solar plexus. Knock the air from my lungs.
She knows.
The anonymous messages. Her sudden reappearance in his life. The timing that always felt too convenient to be coincidence.
It clicks. Or maybe I'm losing my mind. Maybe paranoia has finally consumed me completely. Turned me into someone who sees enemies everywhere.
But the certainty settles into my bones like poison. Like truth I can't ignore.
I grab her shoulders. Pin her against the wall before I can think better of it. Before rational thought can intervene.
"What do you know?" My voice is barely controlled. Shaking with weeks of accumulated terror. "Who are you working with?"
"What—" Her eyes go wide. Genuine fear flooding her features now. "Let go of me!"
"Tell me!" I press harder. Feel her trembling beneath my hands. "Who's sending the messages? What do you want from us?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" She struggles against my grip. Panic rising. Voice pitching higher. "Seriously, you're hurting me!"
"Tell me—"
Hands shove me backward. Hard. Strong enough to break my grip and send me stumbling into the opposite wall.
Blaze.
He's there. Between us. Pulling Sophie behind him like a shield. Fury blazing in those brown eyes I know better than my own reflection.
"Are you completely losing your mind?" His voice is low. Dangerous. Barely controlled. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Stay out of this."
"Stay out?" He advances on me. Not stopping until my back hits the wall again.
His forearm presses across my chest. Pinning me in place. Face inches from mine. Close enough to count his eyelashes if I wanted.
"She's not part of whatever's going on with you, Asher." His jaw is tight. Muscles trembling with restraint. "Leave her out of it."
"You don't know that."
"I know her." His voice breaks slightly. "I don't know what you've become."
The words slice through me. Deep and precise. Finding the wound that never heals.
But then the anger in his eyes flickers. Shifts into something else. Something familiar and devastating.
Our breaths mingle in the small space between us. His body heat seeping through my shirt. His heartbeat pounding against my chest through his arm.
Memories crash over me. The corridor after the game. The rain-soaked alley. Every kiss we've stolen in shadowed spaces just like this one.
My gaze drops to his mouth. Involuntary. Inevitable. Tracing lips I've memorized.
His lips part slightly. His grip on my chest loosens. Just a fraction. Just enough to mean something.
For one insane moment, I think he's going to kiss me. Think we're going to fall into old patterns. Old comfort. Old destruction.
Then reality reasserts itself. Cold and unforgiving.
Sophie is still there, watching us with wide eyes and an expression I can't read. Calculating something behind that innocent face.
Blaze steps back abruptly. Puts distance between us. His face rearranging into something neutral. Something safe.
He lets me push off the wall. Makes it look natural. Like this was just two rivals having a heated exchange. Nothing more.
Not two ex-lovers nearly destroying each other in a hotel hallway.
I don't wait for him to say anything else. Don't look at Sophie. Don't trust myself to speak without shattering.
I turn and walk away. Fists shaking at my sides. Heart still racing. Mind still spiraling.