I watch through my fingers because I always do. Aleks moves like this is calculation, not rage. He takes a hit and barely reacts. Blood blooms at the corner of his mouth, and he doesn’t wipe it away.
Claudia exhales slowly. “He’s protecting something.”
“Or someone,” Noelle adds softly.
I drop my hand and look fully now. My heart is racing for an entirely different reason than it was two minutes ago.
I hate that I know this version of him so well. The one that shows up when fairness snaps. He protects and fights for what is right, even when that fight is deemed wrong.
The refs finally pull them apart. Gloves scattered on the ice. Aleks breathing hard, eyes still locked on the other guy like he’s memorizing him. He says something to Aleks and?—
“Oh my God, did he just?—”
“Sure did,” Paul laughs. “Sassy, you need to teach him to shit talk so he uses his fists less.”
“And spit?” Nalani shakes her head. “Did I see that right? Did he just?—”
“He did,” I confirm. “He spit in his face.”
The commentator keeps talking. Fines. Suspensions. “A pattern.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh, “Pattern?”
Noelle glances at me. “You okay?”
I nod automatically. “Yeah. He’ll be fine.”
On screen, he skates to the box, blood drying, expression unreadable.
“Totally using Billionairess and the Beast as a future title,” Noelle says, tapping it into her phone.
“Kid needs some PR training,” Paul says to me.
“I don’t want him edited, I want him just like he is, perfect.”
“Holy shit, she’s in love,” Nalani states, like it’s true.
“Never been in love before, but if this is what it is, then I’ll take it.”
I feel my body being lifted and open my eyes, “What are you–“
“Shh, you’ll wake them,” he says as he moves through the house carrying me, freaking carrying me to the entrance.
I pinch him, and he scowls down at me, “What was that for?”
“I wanted to be sure this wasn’t a dream, and I’m not pinching myself.” I squirm, but his hold is firm. “It’s a sleepover, I can’t just leave.”
“It’s three in the morning, you slept over,” he says, passing James, who is holding the door open. “Now you go with me.”
“You’re supposed to be in Chicago.”
“Flew out after the game.”
“Are you insane?” I yawn.
“Debatable. Would it matter?” he asks as he opens the door to his vehicle and places me in it, buckles my seat belt, and…why is this totally okay with me?“Well, would it?”
“You’re not.”
