He told himself he should use the time to stretch, or drill the footwork she’d corrected. To do somethingproductive,instead of standing there like a rookie who’d just been told he was riding the bench. Instead, he reached for his phone.
Big mistake. A notification from Sully had him sinking like he’d been thrown into the Long Island Sound with a cement block attached to his feet.
Sully
Suspension extended to four months. Board uncertain about next season. We’ll discuss options, but it’s not looking good.
He read it slowly, the way you read an injury report when you’re deciding whether pain means inconvenience or career-ending damage. His jaw tightened as the reality settled. This wasn’t a slap on the wrist anymore.This was leverage.This was the league deciding whether he was worth the continual headache.
Nate slid his tongue along the inside of his cheek and exhaled through his nose. Panic had never helped him win a fight, and it wouldn’t help now.
His grip tightened on his phone. He hadn’t thought it possible, but the studio felt even smaller than it had ten minutes ago. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Mirrors reflected a man who suddenly looked more uncertain of his place in the world than ever.
Three days since Denmark.
Three days since she’d seen the ring. The silence felt heavier than any hit he’d taken on the ice. But she’d made herself clear. Didn’t give him a fuckingchoice.And god, he hated it.
Nate rolled his shoulders once, trying to bleed the tension out before it calcified as the rehearsal studio door banged open hard enough to rattle the mirrors. In came trouble, like a swarm of wasps with their stingers sharpened.
Nate turned just as two camera operators pushed through with shoulder rigs already live. A lighting tech followed, headset crooked, eyes scanning for the cleanest angle. Behind themcame a production assistant dragging a props case like this was a red carpet instead of a regular rehearsal.
Nate didn’t move at first. He just watched them take up space.
He’d been around enough locker room scrums to recognize the shift in air when something was about to be documented. Cameras didn’t record moments. They hunted them. And the last thing he wanted right now was the non-existent vibe between him and Holly packaged into a teaser trailer.
Martin was in the thick of the pack, like always. “Carry on,” he called out cheerfully. “First rehearsal back after the injury, guys!Exciting.Just grabbing some B-roll.”
B-roll.Like recovery was decorative. Nate straightened slowly, adjusting his stance the way he would before a faceoff. Not defensive, just ready.
The door opened again and Holly stepped back in, one hand pushing her hair off her face, mouth already open like she’d been psyching herself up to say something normal, and then the words died when she saw the cameras.
Her spine lengthened immediately, shoulders back and chin up.Professional Hollyslid into place like muscle memory, but not before he caught the half-second of calculation in her eyes and clocked it as her instinct to armor up.
“Surprise!” Kendall chirped.
Holly smiled. It was flawless, and nowhere even close to reaching her eyes.
Nate’s phone buzzed in his palm. He knew he shouldn’t look, but his eyes drifted downanyway.
Sully calling.
There was no fucking way he could take that call right now. He jabbed a finger at the ‘reject’ button as the world tilted. Not enough for anyone else to see, just enough that the ground felt less reliable under his feet. Keep your head down. Like this was still something he could out-skate if he tried hard enough.
He shoved the phone in his back pocket, jaw flexing once as he forced his pulse back under control. He couldn’t afford a public misstep right now. Not with his future dangling like a carrot in front of a boardroom full of men who already thought he was a liability.
And then fucking Sophie entered like she owned oxygen, because of course that’s what his shitshow of an existence needed right now.
“This is perfect,” she said brightly, clapping once. Red lipstick, crisp blazer. Smile sharpened to a point. “All this tension is so hot right now! Fans are obsessed with thewill-they-won’t-theyof it all.”
The fans weren’t the only ones.
Holly’s smile didn’t waver. “We’re in the middle of rehearsal.”
“Of course you are,” Sophie said. “And we love that for you. Growth.Resilience.Stand a little closer together, though. You look like strangers waiting for a bus.”
She moved closer to the pair, repositioning them without asking. Nate felt the adjustment like a shove in the back.
“Chin up, Holly,” Sophie continued, circling. “You look tired.”
