He was solid muscle, warm and responsive. The contact sent a shockwave straight up my arms. For a second, the hockey instruction vanished, replaced by the overwhelming awareness of the man in my grip. The smell of Theo's sweat, the rapid rise and fall of his ribs, the heat radiating through his jersey.
Theo went very still.
He turned his head slightly. Just enough that I could see his profile—the flush on his cheekbones, the parting of his lips, the pulse hammering in his throat.
"Like this?" Theo asked. His voice was quiet.
The sound snapped me back to reality.
I dropped my hands like I’d touched a hot stove. I stepped back, putting three feet of safety between us.
"Yeah. That's—practice that." I gestured vaguely toward the far end of the rink, anywhere that wasn't near me. "We're done for today."
Theo blinked. "But we still have twenty minutes."
"We're done, Callahan."
I didn't wait for an argument. I skated to the gate, stepped off the ice, and tore through my cool-down routine. I was in my car and driving out of the lot before Theo had even finished unlacing his skates.
My hands shook on the steering wheel.
Team practice at 7:30 AM should have been a reprieve. It wasn't.
I ran the drills with my usual intensity. I barked out plays, corrected positioning, and pushed the pace until the glass fogged up. But my focus was fractured.
I kept tracking Theo.
I watched the rookie integrate with the line. I saw Jamie Hayes, alternate captain and one of our wingers, clap Theo on the shoulder after a crisp pass. I saw Theo’s face light up when Coach shouted a "Good job, Callahan!" from the bench.
"Moretti!"
My head snapped toward Coach Reeves.
"You with us, Captain?" The coach’s eyes were sharp. He saw everything.
"Yes, Coach."
"Then maybe you can explain why you're watching Callahan instead of running the forecheck drill I assigned."
A few of the guys smirked. My jaw tightened until my teeth ached.
"Just making sure he's integrating properly," I lied..
"Uh-huh." Coach didn't look convinced. "How did the private session go this morning?"
"Fine. He needs work on his edges and board play."
"And you're planning to continue these early sessions?"
I should say no. I should hand Theo off to one of the assistants. I should keep my distance before this thing inside me grew teeth.
"Yes," I said. "He's got potential. He needs refinement."
Coach studied me for a long, uncomfortable moment. "Don't break him, Luca. We need players who love the game, not soldiers who are afraid of their captain."
After practice, I retreated to my stall. I methodically stripped off my gear, piece by piece, trying to drown out the locker room noise.
"Captain's been riding you pretty hard, rook," Jamie said from three stalls down.
