Akid?
I step closer—not enough to touch him, but enough that he has to tilt his chin down to keep glaring at me.
“You five-foot-four thundercloud,” I say calmly, “I’ve put grown men on the floor for less.”
The locker room erupts.
Finn doubles over laughing.
Several players choke on whatever they were drinking.
Even Kael’s mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile.
Atlas stares.
Then—VERY faintly—smirks.
Dangerously attractive.
Unfortunately attractive.
“Alright,” he says.“Maybe not a kid.”
Kael steps forward, cutting the chaos cleanly.
“Enough,” he snaps.The entire room stills.Even Finn’s grin dims.
Kael looks at me.“Follow me.”
I do.
Because honestly?My legs don’t seem interested in doing anything else.
He leads me into the training room—cold, quiet, lined with equipment and treatment tables.The door closes behind us, muffling the noise.
The silence between us feels thicker.
Kael faces me fully.“Before you start, understand something.”
I cross my arms.“I’m listening.”
“This team is volatile right now.You’re walking into a storm.”
“I’m not afraid of storms.”
(Only the ice.Only falling again.But he doesn’t need to know that.)
His gaze lingers on my mouth.Just long enough to feel it.
He’s too close.
He smells like cedar and winter and something male and warm beneath it.
And Boston cold does NOT explain why my cheeks feel hot.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, voice dropping.
“What?”My pulse jumps.“Why?”
