Kayden
I woke up on the morning of the playoffs feeling like my entire body was hovering somewhere between dread and adrenaline. Even though Rhys and I lived under the same roof—same walls, same air—I hadn't actually seen him in person since I left him breathless and wrecked on the kitchen floor two nights ago.
He had mastered the art of slipping in late and disappearing early, and the only time we ever saw each other was during practice, and he wouldn't even look at me.
I had spent the last forty-eight hours replaying that night in my head like an idiot. I could still feel the phantom pressure of his hand around my neck and the way he moaned out my name when he finally broke.
I thought that moment would change everything. I thought the Ice Captain was finally done playing games, but instead, he had become a ghost. And the silence was starting to feel like a slap in the face.
I kept repeating it all morning as the team bus pulled out of the parking lot.
