Chapter 47 Insane
Liam Carter
Game days always did this to me. Tightened my chest. Sharpened my temper, made every sound louder, every thought heavier. The rink smelled like cold steel and sweat, like effort and expectation, and it seeped into my bones the second my skates touched the ice. This was my territory. my sanctuary, the one place where I was supposed to be untouchable, unshakable.
So explain why my focus fractured the moment I saw her.
Why was she standing by the rink in those damn leggings that hugged her ass like a second skin, arms folded, eyes locked on me like she was studying every single movement I made.
It wasn’t fair. Not when I was already balancing the weight of the team, the pressure of the game, the voice of every analyst waiting for me to screw up. Not when she looked that calm, that composed, like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to me just by existing in my line of sight.
I was already on edge. Game day was closing in, and today’s practice was brutal. Every drill, every play, we were pushing harder than ever. But somehow, through all the noise, the shouting, the sharp sound of skates carving into the ice…I still felt her.
Like she was stitched into my senses, a pulse just beneath my skin.
And I wasn’t the only one.
The guys were noticing. Stealing glances at her, making comments under their breath. A nudge here. A raised brow there. The kind of looks that set something ugly and possessive off in my chest.
I fucking hated it. Maybe I could have lived with it the first moments she started working her, but now, she was mine.
Mine in a way that had nothing to do with labels and everything to do with memory. With the way her breath hitched. The way she sounded when she lost control. The way she’d clung to me like I was the only solid thing left in her world.
She’d been acting too normal around me since that night. Like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been trembling under my tongue. Like I hadn’t fucked her so good she forgot her own damn name.
And that was the problem.
She was too collected, too okay with looking so goddamn fine like that! Meanwhile, I was two seconds from snapping, loosing my freaking mind.
“Carter!” Coach barked, snapping me out of it. “Get your head in the damn game.”
“Yes, sir.” I gritted my teeth, adjusting my gloves.
Ava smirked. The little shit knew exactly what she was doing.
Practice dragged. Every shift felt longer than the last, my muscles burning, my patience thinning. Every time I looked up, she was right there. Talking to some assistant, laughing at something one of the guys said, stretching, fuck, the stretching.
Wasn’t she supposed to be paying attention to me? In case I fell or something?
By the time we were wrapping up, my patience was shot.
I skated toward the bench, ripping off my gloves. Ava was leaning against the barrier, talking to one of the trainers, completely unaware I was coming straight for her. Or maybe she was aware. Maybe she just didn’t care.
She barely had time to react before I gripped the boards, leaning in close.
“Come with me.”
“Excuse me?” Her brows lifted.
“You heard me.”
She glanced around. The other guys were still winding down, some heading to the locker room. Too many eyes.
“Liam”
“Now, Ava.”
Something flickered in her eyes…a challenge.
She turned, walking toward the hallway that led to the private treatment rooms. I followed, my skates hitting the rubber mat with every step, my pulse matching the rhythm of my stride. Every inch of that walk felt like a test of restraint I was barely passing.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, I had her pinned.
Ava gasped as her back hit the wall, my body crowding hers in, caging her between me and the door.
“What the hell are you doing?” she whispered.
I dragged my fingers down her side, gripping her hip. “You tell me.”
“Liam, we’re at practice” She swallowed hard.
“And?”
“And,” she hissed, shoving at my chest, “anyone could walk in.”
“Then you better keep quiet, baby.” I smirked.
Ava’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into my jersey. She could act all composed out there, but right here? With my hands on her, my mouth inches from hers?
She was just as wrecked as I was.
“You’ve been teasing me all damn day,” I murmured, dragging my lips along her jaw. “Walking around in those leggings. Acting like you don’t remember what happened the last time I had you alone.”
She shivered, pressing her hands flat against my chest like she wanted to push me away but didn’t.
“Liam, this is reckless.”
“You love it.”
“I hate you.” She let out a shaky breath.
“No, you don’t.” I grinned.
I tilted her chin up, my thumb brushing against her lips.
Then…
Footsteps. Voices.
Reality slammed back into place like a puck hitting the boards.
Ava pushed me away so fast I almost laughed. She straightened her top, fixing her hair as I adjusted my jersey, just as the door swung open.
Ethan froze in the doorway.
His eyes flicked between us, suspicion creeping into his face.
“Uh… you guys good?”
“Yep. Great.” She cleared her throat.
“Just discussing some… post-game recovery.” I smirked.
“Right.” his brows shot up.
Ava grabbed her water bottle and practically bolted out the door.
I stayed where I was for a second longer, breathing hard, the echo of her presence still pressed into the room. The walls felt closer now. Charged. Like they’d witnessed something they weren’t meant to.
I chuckled, watching her go, knowing damn well this wasn’t over. Not even close.
Because game day pressure had nothing on the kind of tension she and I were building.
And sooner or later, something was going to give.