Prologue

Bennett

Last season…

I stepped onto the glistening ice, the chilly air biting at my skin. The arena lights were intense, but not blinding. My eyes adjusted quickly. It was more than just another game for the LA Grizzlies – it was the final game of the division semifinals. A must-win situation for the team. We hadn't made it to the playoffs in the last two years… just thinking about it caused my heart to thrum with the weight of the elusive achievement.

"Bullet, Bullet, Bullet," the crowd chanted, their voices merging into a unified battle cry that echoed off the cold, hard ice and into my veins. The sea of supporters looked amazing wearing our colors: teal, turquoise and maroon.

Across the rink, Xander Harrison, the Giants" newly minted left wing, skated with a confident ease that made my blood boil. His fans were almost as loud, calling out his nickname, "X-Man." Our eyes locked, his icy blues piercing mine, setting the stage for the confrontation we both knew was inevitable. Freshly called up to the PHL, he was already making waves. His debut with San Diego had been during game one of the playoffs against us.

We'd lost.

We were evenly matched at each encounter; only sheer luck and will helped us to pull off the two back-to-back wins in games three and four.

Even though it grated on my nerves to admit it, Xander was good. Damn good. The kind of good that could turn into something formidable with time and experience. He"d shown up out of nowhere in that first game and had already started proving himself a threat.

I remember noticing then that he stood a couple inches over my six-foot frame – an insignificant detail perhaps, but one that irked me in some inexplicable way. And now here we were at game five, each team boasting two wins apiece and this final match serving as the tiebreaker to advance us to the division finals.

The roar of anticipation from the crowd yanked me back to reality as they began counting down to the puck drop. I hadn't even heard the National Anthem being played. How could I have missed it?

"Focus, Ry," I told myself, shaking off the distraction.

The game started, and Xander and I were instantly at odds, fighting for control of the black biscuit. Our bodies collided, our breaths mingled, and our competitive spirits intensified.

"Watch yourself, old man," he taunted, smirking at me as we jostled for position.

"Old man? You"re gonna eat those words, kid," I shot back, determined to wipe that smug look off his face.

Xander and I remained locked in a battle of wills. We marked each other closely, neither giving an inch, every move calculated to thwart the other"s advance. In the heat of the game, his shoulders flexed under his jersey as he fought for the puck, his arms bulged as he drove forward.

"Come on, Bennett!" Sam, one of our extra forwards, called from the bench, his mischievous grin offering a brief moment of levity. "Take him down a notch!"

"Working on it," I grunted, pushing back against Xander as we skated down the ice.

We exchanged hit after hit, shot after shot, neither of us giving an inch. Sweat dripped down my face, my muscles screamed in protest, and every breath felt like fire. But I couldn"t give up – not with so much at stake.

A Giants defenseman headed my way, closing in fast, stick extended. Trying to cut off my angle. But I saw that slight hesitation in his eyes. Maybe he was anticipating a pass? No time to overthink. Had to trust my instincts.

I fired a slapshot. The puck sailed wide, high over the crossbar.

The crowd"s groans echoed in my ears.

Damn it. How did I miss that? Should"ve buried it.

My teammates looked at me, some with encouragement, others with frustration.

I'd let them down.

"Nice try, Bullet," Xander said mockingly. "But you"re gonna have to do better than that."

"Watch me," I growled, my eyes locked onto his, the challenge accepted.

"Come on, Ry," Jester, our defenseman, shouted as he clapped me on the back. "We"re Grizzlies. Let"s finish this strong!"

"Right," I muttered.

I watched Xander like a hungry dog eying a bone, determined. Our rivalry reached a boiling point during the final period, the score tied at 0-0. We were engaged in a heated battle for control of the puck when our bodies collided with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The crowd roared as we crashed into the boards.

"Get off me, Bennett!" Xander snarled, his breath hot against my cheek.

"Make me," I growled in response, my heart pounding with adrenaline.

His hands gripped my jersey, and before I knew it, we were exchanging blows. I was fueled by a fire that burned deep within me. Our gloves hit the ice, fists flying as we fought for dominance. Each punch was a release, an expression of the frustration and rage between us.

"Break it up, you two!" Coach Mack bellowed from the bench, but it fell on deaf ears. We were consumed by our own battle, the rest of the world fading away.

I was strong, but he matched me blow for blow, his body a testament to his level of fitness, discipline and skill.

"Enough!" The referee finally stepped in, pulling us apart and sending us both to the penalty box. As I sat there, panting and bruised, I couldn"t shake the image of Xander"s face – his eyes full of fire.

Good.

I wanted to piss him off even more.

But luck and will weren't with the Grizzlies tonight.

Xander found the back of the net a second before the final buzzer sounded, echoing through the arena like a death knell.

He'd secured victory for his team.

Despite our best efforts, the scoreboard told a story we couldn"t escape – Giants 1, Grizzlies 0.

It was the end of the road for us this season, and my heart felt like it was being crushed beneath the disappointment.

"Good game," Xander said as we shook hands at center ice, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and I fought to keep my emotions in check.

"Next time," I replied tersely, swallowing down the bitter taste of defeat.

My teammates filed off the ice, their faces etched with disappointment and frustration. I hung back, my gaze on Xander as he celebrated with his team, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

When I got back to the locker room, Jester clapped me on the back. "Hey, man, you put up one hell of a fight out there."

"Thanks," I managed, my voice tight. "But it wasn"t enough."

"Chin up, Bennett," Tank chimed in, his solid frame a comforting presence. "We win as a team and we lose as a team. We"ll come back stronger next season."

"Right," I agreed, trying to shake off the cloud that hung over me.

After showering and changing, I found myself lingering outside the rink, staring at the night sky. The cool air helped clear my thoughts, but I couldn"t stop thinking about how Xander bested me tonight.

"Ry?" Alyssa"s voice broke through my reverie, her dark hair framing her concerned expression. "You okay?"

"Fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just needed some air."

"Alright," she said, not entirely convinced, but then her expression turned sultry as she pressed her voluptuous body to mine. "Need me to take your mind off tonight? You know I'm always willing." Her tiny hand glided southward and grabbed my dick.

It was soft. There was no sign of life in it.

"Thanks, Lyssa," I murmured, stepping back. "But not tonight." Sure, she was one of my hookups, but I wasn't up for it tonight, not after a defeat like the one we just had.

She shrugged, but not before she tried to hide her disappointment. She knew the score, though; all of the women I hooked up with knew it. My main goal was to make it to the NAPH and take care of my family. I couldn't waiver or lose my focus and get into any relationships or entanglements. At thirty-two I didn't have much time left to achieve my dreams, so I had to be smart about how I lived my life.

I watched Alyssa walk away before turning my attention back to the stars.