A cloud of condensation passed my lips as I sat in Hendrix's practice the next morning. I didn't know if someone had messed with the temperature or if it was due to my lack of sleep, but York arena felt colder that morning. The chilled air bit at my cheeks and I sank lower into my chair. I hugged myself tighter, Hendrix's woven blanket draped across my lap.

Shouting came from the pad of ice below. The Falcons were in the middle of a scrimmage, practicing drills they had covered in the first half of the hour-long session. Their skates carved into the ice. The frozen surface was marked with delicate designs. I mindlessly followed the puck. On a regular day, I would have been much more invested in what drills the team was trying out, but on this particular morning I was too tired to care.

I rested my head in my hand. Exhaustion ebbed into my vision as I fought to keep my eyes open. Did the good luck charm powers still work if I took a nap? Surely me being there in the arena was more than enough. Wishing I was curled up in bed, I let out a sigh. I wasn't too sure how intense Hendrix's superstitious beliefs were, but I decided it was best not to test them.

My heavy lidded eyes drifted to the far right of the rink. Hendrix stood in net, ready for the charge of players that had entered his zone. Last night was a toe curling dream. Sex with Hendrix was both nothing and everything I expected it to be at the same time. I knew it was going to be good--I had no doubts a man like Hendrix was going to have me seeing stars. There was a quiet confidence about him. He knew what was doing. The light bondage, however, was a pleasant surprise.

I rolled my lips into my mouth as I remembered the leather of his belt against my wrists. The mix of pain and pleasure was something I didn't realize I would enjoy. I couldn't decide which was more surprising; that I like it or that Hendrix did. But, as I was beginning to figure out, the Falcon's goalie was full of surprises.

The shriek of the coach's whistle cut through the arena. He barked a string of orders and the players began to make their way towards the changerooms. Hendrix unclipped the straps on his helmet before pulling it off of his head. He fixed his grip on his stick, shifting to hold his helmet in the same hand. His hair was dark and damp with sweat. I didn't know how he was able to function off of the little amount of sleep he got. While it sucks I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed, at least I had the luxury of sitting in the stands.

He flashed me a thumbs up and I returned it. My heart warmed. This was becoming our new little ritual after every practice. Sometimes it was the smallest things that meant the most. Liam almost never acknowledged me at his practices. Even after leaving the changerooms, sometimes he'd be so lost in conversation with his teammates that he wouldn't even speak to me until we got to his car.

While I reminded myself that I shouldn't compare the two, it was becoming harder and harder not to.

When Hendrix stepped off the ice, I decided it was time to head out to the main area of the rink before the tip of my nose fell off from frostbite.

With Hendrix's blank folded over my arms, I made my way down from the stands. The echo of my boots hitting the concrete floor was the only thing that could be heard. Not even the Zamboni driver had made his way onto the ice yet. I was on the last short flight of steps when the arena doors swung open.

Liam showed up on the other side. Damp locks clung to his forehead and I wondered if he had run out of the shower or skipped that step all together. He was sporting the Falcon's black tracksuit, a hockey bag thrown over his shoulder. He still looked like the high school boy I fell in love with. For a moment, it felt like we were teenagers again–like having deja vu.

"Ella," he greeted me, tone rushed. "We need to talk."

The authority in his voice shoved me back to reality. Stubbornness wrapped me up, acting as my armor as I stalked in his direction. It was clear he was determined to catch me before the rest of the team–more specifically Hendrix–emerged from the changerooms.

"Like hell we do, Liam."

"Ellie, please." His hand caught my arm when I went to move past him. The intensity in his eyes made me uncomfortable.

"What could we possibly have to talk about?" I asked, my voice laced with poison. "You've had almost two years to say whatever it is you think you need to say."

Liam searched my face. I'm sure he didn't find an ounce of kindness, but he decided to push forth anyway. "Look, I know what you saw in my dorm room that day must've hurt you."

"Must've hurt?" I scoffed, taking my arm back from him. "A wasp bite hurts, Liam. A baseball to the head hurts. What you did was inhumane. You have absolutely no idea how it felt to walk in on you with someone else. And what's worse is that you didn't even try to make things right."

"Ellie, I'm sorry, okay?" he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "The long distance thing fucked me up. It's not an excuse and I should have talked to you about it. But we both know you're not really happy with Hendrix."

A sarcastic laugh tore through me. "How do you figure that?"

Liam's lip parted to speak, but I didn't even give him the opportunity. I held out my index finger. "Just to be clear, we're talking about the same Hendrix, right? The sexy cowboy that treats me like gold– that Hendrix?" I fixed him with an unwavering stare. "I've moved on, Liam. You should do the same."

"Come on, you really expect me to believe that?" Liam challenged, his eyes narrowing as he studied my face for any hint of doubt.

"Believe what you want," I countered. "But I'm happy with Hendrix, and there's nothing you can say or do to change that."

Liam's disbelief was palpable as he stared down at me. "You expect me to believe that you guys have been dating for months and he's only started bringing you around now?" He shifted his weight, dripping water onto the cold linoleum floor beneath us.

A deep breath entered my lungs. This song and dance was getting boring. "He wanted to keep it on the down low because of what's been happening this season. He didn't want Coach Miller–"

"To think you're the reason he hasn't been performing," Liam interrupted. "Yeah, I remember him spouting that bullshit that night at the bar. But I still don't buy it. That's not you, Ellie. I know you. You want to be paraded around and shown off. You'd never accept being kept in the shadows."

I tilted my head. The shit that came out of a guilty man's mouth was mind numbing. "Yeah, because you were really concerned about that while you were whispering to another girl's vagina. Give me a break, Liam. Do you hear how ironic that sounds?"

When I moved to step around him, he cut me off.

His expression darkened as he leaned in closer, his voice a low warning. "Hendrix is only keeping you around because he wants to finish the season off strong. The guy seems to think you're his good luck charm."

His words struck me for a moment, a seed of doubt planting itself within my chest. Hendrix and I both knew what we were signing up for. Our relationship might have begun as a façade. Regardless of that I truly believed it had evolved into a genuine friendship. But a small part of me wondered what would happen after the season was over.

"I don't want you getting hurt, Ellie."

"It's too late for that, Liam." I shrugged my arm away when he reached out to touch me again. "Save both of us time and refrain from having another one of these useless conversations again in the future. I'd rather be pouring vinegar in my eyes."

Liam's blue eyes narrowed like I had physically struck him. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like a bitch."

I couldn't fight the smirk. "Because I'm not interested in listening to you pretend to care about me, Liam."

"I do still care about you." His voice didn't waver. If I didn't know him any better, I would have thought he was telling me the truth. He drew in a deep breath. "I want you back, Ellie."

"That's never going to happen."

As I was preparing to verbal assault him–again–the door to the rink clanged open. A gust of warm air funneled in from the other room. Hendrix appeared on the other side, McKinley peering over his shoulder. His cerulean eyes zeroed in on Liam and I.

"Everything okay in here?" The question would have sounded innocent to anyone else's ears. But the hard edge of aggravation lined his voice.

Liam's hand curled at his side. "We were just talking."

Hendrix studied my expression. "From the looks of it, I think she's done talking."

Liam angled his body to face the man standing in the doorway. "What, are you her keeper now?"

It was like all the air had been dragged from the arena. As if the entire building was holding its breath, waiting to see how Hendrix would respond.

"Ask her yourself," he said, jutting his chin out to me. "Elle, are you ready to go?"

A relieved gust of air escaped my lungs. "Yes, please."

"Come on, darlin'," Hendrix said, holding an open palm in my direction. His voice was tender and warm, a balm to my frayed nerves. "Let's get out of here."

A small smile spread across my face as I made my way towards him. There was something about Hendrix that made me feel safe. He was an exit sign in a tough situation. Someone I could count on when the load got too much to carry.

I slipped my hand into his–warm and reassuring. His calloused fingers wrapped around mine and I squeezed, grateful that he came to the rescue.

"And Liam," Hendrix drawled, his tone rougher now that I was next to him. "I don't like throwing my weight around, but if you keep making my girlfriend uncomfortable I will do everything in my power to ensure you're sitting on the bench for the rest of the season. Do we have an understanding?"

The ice of Liam's irises dropped to sub-zero temperature at Hendrix's threat. A shiver wracked through my body as the two hockey players squared off. I shifted from one foot to the other, hoping the suffocating tension would die down.

I peered over my shoulder at McKinley. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his track pants. While he hadn't uttered a word, we all knew he didn't have to. Liam wasn't stupid enough to do anything in front of the coach's son.

Liam's jaw ticked. He was backed in the corner like some sort of wild animal. The thing about wild animals who felt trapped? They lashed out. And I was ready for him to. But he didn't.

Liam's shoulders dropped, although his eyes were still hard as glaciers. "Understood."

Hendrix nodded in acknowledgement. "See you at the game tonight, Doyle."

We didn't wait for a reply. Hendrix let go of the open door, pulling me into the arena foyer with him. The metal door slammed shut behind us, echoing. Even with it closed, Liam's gaze bore into my back, but with each step, it felt lighter and lighter until it vanished altogether.

"You guys go ahead," McKinley announced once we had traced our steps back to the hallway that led back to the changerooms. "I'm going to wait for the rest of the guys."

Hendrix clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll meet you back at the house, I'm just going to drop Ella off."

The three of us exchanged a quick round of goodbyes before Hendrix and I continued towards the parking lot exit. Our footsteps echoed as we made our way through the building. There was a heavy silence that settled over us. Picking at a loose blanket thread, I hoped it was due to the interaction with Liam and not regarding the events from the night before.

"You showed up just in time," I murmured as we left the arena behind, the early morning sun casting a golden glow over everything.

"I wish I had showed up sooner." Hendrix continued to stare straight ahead, remorse filling his tone. "I wasn't expecting him to be in the showers before we even got off the ice."

"It's not your fault. He would have found another time to talk to me." I brushed my tongue across my chapped lips. "Honestly, be glad you showed up when you did. I was this close to hitting the man and catching an assault charge."

"If you weren't there, I might have," he mused.

A slight smile caught my lips. I side-stepped, bumping my arm into his as we walked through the parking lot. "Don't go getting yourself thrown into prison now. You're too pretty for that."

"Don't worry about it," he said, grinning down at me. "I know this sassy, little pre-law student. I'm sure she'd help me out." 

_ _ _ _ _

author's note:

Something tells me Liam isn't one to take too well to threats. Do you have any ideas of what might happen next?

I'm literally over here eating bread sticks and counting down the days to Winter Break. I'm so close, I can practically taste it. Do you have anything planned for the holidays? I'd love to hear them.

Happy reading!