Absolutely not.


    That’s exactly what I <i ss="calibre">should</i> have said.


    It’s what any smart girl would’ve said, especially one who’s still piecing herself back together.


    “I guess.”


    The response slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and now, here I am, walking beside Hayes Van Doren, hand in hand,pletely unsure how I got myself into this.


    What is it about this guy that makes me deviate from every instinct I’ve built over the past year? Hayes is everything I should avoid—a major yer on campus, someone who probably views rtionships like a game with easy rules and no attachments.


    That’s never been my type.


    Then again, what <i ss="calibre">is</i> my type?


    It’s not like I have much experience to go on.


    Nathan didn’t leave much room for learning that on my own.


    I shove that thought down before it can tank my mood.


    Hayes’s grip on my hand tightens as he shes a boyish grin, the kind that should set off rm bells in my brain. Instead, my stomach does that stupid swooping thing like I’m on a roller coaster about to plunge over the steepest drop.


    I nce around as we walk across campus, noticing how people stare. Some wave and call out his name, others throw lingering looks his way. And he just takes it in stride, as if none of it fazes him.


    “It’s like you’re a celebrity,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.


    “You think so?” He shrugs. “I don’t really notice it anymore.”


    That remark catches me off guard. I was expecting him to bask in the attention, to maybe even thrive on it.


    But he’s indifferent.


    “How can you not notice?” I ask, honestly curious. “People act like they’re waiting for their chance to get your autograph.”


    He slows his pace a bit, like he’s mulling that over. “It’s been like this since high school. Our old college coach recruited me early on, and once that happened, the attention just kind of followed.” He gives me a sidelong look. “But it’s never been about that for me. After Dad passed away, I knew hockey was my way to take care of my family. That’s what I focus on. The rest? It’s just noise.”


    That’s not the answer I was expecting.


    My defenses, the ones I’ve carefully held in ce since Nathan, reluctantly shift. Even if it’s slightly.


    “They’re lucky to have you,” I say softly.


    His gaze turns serious as his voice dips. “Nah. I’m the lucky one. They mean everything to me.”


    And just like that, the walls I’ve built around myself crack even further.


    Before I can react, we stop in front of the ice arena, and I blink in surprise. “Are we here to skate?”


    He shes that grin again, the one that makes it hard to stay detached. “Nope.”


    My face scrunches in confusion. “We’re not?”


    Instead of answering, he pulls me toward the building, leading me inside like he owns the ce. Which, given how people treat him around here, maybe he does. It takes me a moment to realize that we’ve been holding hands since leaving the Roasted Bean.


    No wonder people were staring.


    Inside, the scent of the rink hits me—cold, crisp, and familiar. It’sforting in a way I can’t quite exin, even though I’m no longerpeting. The ice has always been a refuge, and I guess, in some way, it still is.


    Hayes walks beside me as we head deeper into the arena, exchanging casual greetings with the employees like they’re old friends.


    “Hey, Tony!” Hayes calls to one of the custodians, who waves back from the concession stand. “How’s the family?”


    “Doing well! I’m taking the wife on vacation next week,” the older man replies with a grin.


    “I’m jealous. I could really use one of those,” Hayes responds easily, still leading me forward.


    I give him a sideways nce, baffled by how he manages to knock me off bnce at every turn. “Are you on a first-name basis with everyone around here?”


    “Most of them. Tony’s wife bakes banana bread and usually sends a few loaves my way. Best damn stuff I’ve ever had. They run an animal shelter, and every year, the Wildcats do a fundraiser for them, and then we spend a weekend in the spring helping with cleanup and repairs. I love the clinics for kids, but the ones for animals hold a special ce in my heart.”


    Everything he just admitted swirls through my head before reluctantly settling deep inside me.


    I grind to a halt and stare at him. “I’m sorry. Who exactly <i ss="calibre">are</i> you?”


    He stops too, turning to face me, his expression half amused, half serious. “What do you mean?”


    “Ever since I started here, all I’ve heard is that you’re this huge yer who lives for parties. That’s it. But now, you’re telling me you help out at animal shelters and know the life story of everyone at the rink.”


    He lifts a brow, his grin turning a bit more wicked. “Well, it’s true. I do like to party. But there’s more to me than that. I just don’t feel the need to talk about it with every person I meet.”


    I blink, trying to wrap my head around this new version of Hayes. It’s impossible not to state the obvious. “But you’re telling <i ss="calibre">me</i>.”


    “Maybe that’s because I want you to know who I really am.”


    His earnest exnation sends a shiver racing down my spine. I don’t know if it’s the chill in the air, but standing here with him suddenly feels like teetering on the precipice of something I have no idea if I’m ready for.


    When he reaches the doors to the rink, he pulls the handle open and extends his arm in invitation. “Are youing or what?”


    His voice yanks me back to the present as I hustle toward him. When I’m once again within striking distance, he snags my fingers, and instead of leading me toward the locker rooms, he heads to the stands, pulling me up the concrete stairs to the very top row. Uncertain what we’re doing, I settle beside him and survey the quiet arena below.


    “Looks different from up here, doesn’t it?”


    I shift on the hard stic and stare at the pristine sheet of ice below.


    He’s right. It does look different from this vantage point.


    As if it’s miles and miles away.


    Maybe even a different life.


    Or someone else’s life.


    “Yeah,” I whisper, taking in the view. “It does.”


    We sit in silence for a few moments as the cold air seeps through my jacket and into my bones. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, trying to keep warm.


    What doesn’t make sense is that the quiet between us feels… nice.


    Like there’s no pressure to fill it with words.


    There aren’t many people I feelfortable with.


    How weird is it that Hayes is turning out to be one of them?


    I nce at him and notice the way his muscles have loosened. “Do youe to the nosebleed section often?”


    “Actually, I do. It’s a good ce to think. There’s always a shitload of people at our house, and it can get pretty noisy. There’s nowhere I can go on campus and just get away. Even in town. So, I’lle here and sit in the cheap seats and just breathe in the icy air. It never fails to clear my head.” There’s a pause. “Do you have a ce like that?”


    I turn the question over in my mind. It never urs to me to hold back. “I feel like that when I’m on the ice, running through an old routine.” My voice is barely more than a whisper. “Everything bothering me just melts away.”


    Hayes leans back slightly as he continues to watch me. “You’re really good, Tink. Better than that. So why aren’t youpeting anymore?”


    The question sits between us, heavy and suffocating. My chest tightens, and for a second, I’m tempted to shut him down. I’ve been perfecting that move for months, the art of deflecting, of keeping things light and easy so no one probes too deep.


    Instead of allowing instinct to take over, I let out a gradual breath, the air escaping my lungs like a slow puncture. The words hover on my tongue, but they’re hard to release. Even after all this time, it’s still difficult to talk about.


    He must sense the weight of my silence, because his grip tightens around my hand, offering something that feels dangerously close tofort. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly. “I just… You’re so damn talented. Watching you makes me forget about everything else going on in my life, and I can finally breathe.”


    The unexpected admission hits me hard. His words wrap around me, warm and solid, making it difficult to speak.


    When I finally find my voice, my wordse out quiet and scratchy. “Thank you.”


    “You’ve probably heard it before,” he says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.


    My throat tightens as I shake my head. “Not like that.”


    For a moment, we just sit. The weight of unspoken words presses down on me as I stare at the untouched sheet of ice.


    The girl who used to glide across it with dreams in her eyes and hope filling her heart feels so far away now, buried beneath the heaviness of the past.


    It’s almost a surprise when I hear myself say, “Something happenedst year…” My chest constricts as I trail off.


    His steady gaze never wavers, and for the first time, I’m grateful for the darkness of the arena. It’s safer somehow. Like the shadows give me permission to let the past out, even though every part of me wants to shove it back down and keep it buried.


    I never intended to tell anyone, least of all Hayes. But there’s something about him that makes it hard to lie or hide. Maybe it’s the way he listens without judgment, his fingers wrapped around mine, grounding me in the moment.


    “Nathan Covington was my coach,” I begin, my voice shaky but determined. “He found me at a localpetition and told my parents that I had something special. He said I was a natural and that he’d take me all the way if they let him. My parents were thrilled. Within months, we uprooted our whole lives and moved to Utah.”


    Even though Hayes remains silent, I feel the tension building in him. His fingers are still wrapped around mine, but his grip tightens just enough for me to notice. I nce at him and find his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp, focused.


    “I skated all day, every day. I had private tutors for academics, ballet sses, strength training, and cardio—you name it, I did it. It didn’t take long before I was winningpetitions and moving up the ranks. Ever since I was a little girl, my goal had been to qualify for the Olympics. With Nathan focusing all his time and energy on me, there was no way it wouldn’t happen.” There’s a long pause as I gather my thoughts, the memories painful and raw. “But then… things changed.”


    Hayes sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t interrupt.


    “It didn’t take long for Nathan to be my everything. He was my coach, my mentor, the person I trusted most in the world. We trained together, traveled together, and ate together. He’d help with homework. And I suppose I had a crush on him. When I turned eighteen and our rtionship crossed a line, it never urred to me to question it. I thought it was just the natural progression of things. I thought it was love.”


    Hayes exhales harshly, his jaw clenched tight. “Ava…”


    I force out the rest, because if I stop, I won’t be able to do it. “I didn’t realize Nathan saw me as something he could mold and control. At that age, I was impressionable and desperate for his approval. I trusted him. I believed every word he said, everypliment, every promise.


    “What hurt was that he weaponized my feelings against me. He was a master at mind games and maniption. He was capable of cutting me down with a few sharp words. A look. That’s all it took for me to spiral. All I wanted to do was please him. It became more important than anything else. By the end, I was a mess. Nervous, high-strung, depressed. It was almost a blessing when people found out about our rtionship. Except that it was like a bomb went off, destroying everything I’d spent my life building. I was a scandal. The girl who had an affair with her coach.


    “It didn’t matter that I wasn’t even twenty or that Nathan was in his forties, someone I’d looked up to and worshipped for years. It didn’t matter that he’d been grooming me long before our rtionship became physical. The world saw me asplicit. As <i ss="calibre">willing.</i>” I shake my head as a wave of confusion crashes over me, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, wanting to block out the memories. The guilt. “I don’t know, maybe I was.”


    His knuckles are white where his fingers are clenched around mine. “No, you weren’t. You were just a kid. Impressionable. Innocent. He took advantage of you. Of your feelings.”


    I shrug as misery continues to eat at me.


    “Your parents didn’t know? They didn’t suspect anything?”


    With a shake of my head, I bite my lip. “No. By that time, he was like family. More often than not, he spent the holidays with us. They trusted him.”


    His gaze burns into me, but he doesn’t speak. It’s like he’s waiting, giving me the space I need to finish.


    “That wasn’t even the worst part of it all. After our rtionship was exposed, I found out that I wasn’t the only girl he’d done this to. He’d had rtionships with other skaters—girls like me, girls who were younger, who were vulnerable and eager to please. I’d thought he loved me. I hadn’t realized I was just another name on a list, another body in a long line of broken girls he’d left behind.”


    The shame of it still clings to me, suffocating and heavy. No matter how far I’ve tried to run, it’s always there, like a shadow that won’t disappear. It’s the reason why I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length since then. Why I haven’t let anyone get too close.


    Because trusting someone, letting them in, is dangerous.


    Hayes’s reaction is immediate. His grip tightens as his eyes darken with unspent fury. “Fuck, Ava. I’m so sorry you went through all that.”


    The raw emotion in his voice takes me by surprise, and for the first time, I feel tears burn at the back of my eyes. It takes effort to blink them away and swallow hard, wanting to keep it all contained. “It came out after one of the other girls saw us and reported it. There was an investigation, and everything fell apart. My parents were devastated. And I… I felt so stupid. Gullible. Used.”


    I look away, embarrassed now that I’veid it all out in front of him. The ugly truth, the baggage I’ve carried with me for so long. “That’s why I stoppedpeting. After that, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hold my head up. I hated that everyone knew what happened and were judging me. The snidements and whispers.”


    For a long moment, Hayes remains silent. His hand rises to cup my cheek as his thumb brushes away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “None of that was your fault. Do you hear me? He took advantage of you. Of your age and his position of power.”


    Even though I nod, the words don’t sink in.


    How could they?


    I went along with it all. I was happy to hide our rtionship from everyone, including my parents. I lied for him.


    It still sickens me.


    “Wait a minute… Is he the one trying to contact you?” Hayes asks, his voice tight with barely restrained anger.


    “Yeah. He sends messages from different numbers. I’ve blocked them all, even changed my number a few times, but he always finds a way.”


    “Jesus Christ.” Hayes’s jaw flexes, his anger palpable. “Does Coach know?”


    “No,” I say quickly. “And I don’t want him to. He’d lose it. That’s why we moved here—to get away from all of it, to start over. I don’t want to drag my family back into that nightmare again.”


    His expression softens as he pulls me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. For a second, I freeze, the instinct to pull away, to protect myself, kicking into high gear. But then I force myself to rx and let him hold me, allowing myself to feel thefort of his strength.


    For the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel so alone, so isted.


    I pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. Our faces are so close, his breath warm against my skin. My heartbeat picks up tempo, and for a moment, I think he’ll brush his lips across mine. It’s a shock to realize that for the first time in more than a year, I <i ss="calibre">want</i> someone to kiss me.


    But just as quickly, he pulls away, his expression unreadable. “It’s gettingte. We should probably get moving.”


    The disappointment that crashes over me is unnerving, but I remain silent. Instead, I follow him out of the arena, my heart pounding a steady tattoo as confusion floods me.


    Despite everything, I wanted Hayes to kiss me.


    Even more surprising than that, I might just want him to stick around.