In the heart of Harvard, Alessia Gilmore is ready to embrace her second year and the independence it brings. After a summer spent reconnecting with friends and discovering herself, she's determined to step out of her twin sister Rory's shadow and ca...
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The game had barely begun, but the intensity was already thick as the Hawks and Bulls collided on the ice. Riley felt his nerves kick in as he kept an eye on Beau, who skated beside him, eyes sharp and focused. Beau wasn't new to this kind of rough game—he could hold his own just fine—but that didn't stop Riley from watching out for him, especially when he saw the Bulls' defensemen targeting him with veiled smirks.
Within the first few minutes, one of the Bulls charged into Beau, slamming him hard against the glass barriers. Riley winced as he heard the loud crack of Beau's body hitting the glass, but Beau barely faltered. Instead, Beau's eyes narrowed, and he slammed his stick on the ice in frustration, the echo of it cutting through the arena noise. He skated back to reclaim the puck, his anger fueling every powerful stride.
Riley could see the determination in Beau's movements, but the Bulls weren't letting up. They were throwing every cheap shot they could to wear down the Hawks, and Riley couldn't shake the worry in the back of his mind. He circled back, positioning himself near Beau just in case another hit came his way, staying close enough to provide support if needed. Beau glanced at him briefly, as if to say, I've got this, and Riley gave him a quick nod, letting him handle it—but still keeping a watchful eye.
As the play intensified, Riley caught sight of Avery, whose focus seemed off. Avery kept glancing toward a particular Bulls player—a tall, 6'0" bruiser with dark brown hair, a scowling face, and a strong build. The guy radiated hostility, his eyes locked on Avery as if he'd seen a ghost. Riley watched Avery closely, noticing how this Bull's presence seemed to rattle him. Riley's curiosity piqued, and he filed it away to ask about later, though he worried the distraction might be affecting Avery's game.
Minutes later, Leo took a pass from Beau and shot it with incredible force toward the Bulls' net. The puck barely missed the goal, but it was a reminder to the Bulls that the Hawks weren't backing down. But the Bulls seemed unfazed, determined to keep their physical dominance.
As Riley skated up the ice, he heard a few of the Bulls laughing, exchanging taunts. Just as Riley turned his focus back to the play, a Bulls player muttered something under his breath, aimed at Julie.
"Not used to seeing a girl in the net. Is she supposed to be a real goalie?"
Julie's face darkened, her jaw tight as she glared back. Riley shot the player a disgusted look, but Quinn cut in with a deadly calm, "Say that again, and I'll make sure you regret it."
The player sneered but didn't reply, his confidence wavering under Quinn's steady, dangerous stare. With a final scowl, Quinn skated away, muttering curses under his breath. Julie didn't hesitate. Without breaking eye contact, she flipped the player a bold middle finger, a smug smile flickering across her face as his cocky expression faltered.
The game went on, rough and merciless. Avery seemed distracted, and Riley noticed him glance at that same Bulls player multiple times, his focus visibly rattled. Riley wasn't sure what the connection was, but he could tell it was affecting Avery's game. The Bulls seized on any sign of hesitation, zeroing in on the weakest links at any given moment.
Riley exchanged a quick look with Leo, who nodded, and they doubled down on their play, working to cover Avery whenever he was out of position. The Bulls' forward made another jab, catching Avery off guard, but Leo intercepted, pushing the puck down the ice with a powerful stride.
Across the rink, Riley spotted one of the Bulls circling close to Beau. He tensed, but before the player could land another hit, Beau darted around him, maneuvering skillfully to reclaim possession. Riley couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he watched his boyfriend weave through the Bulls' defense, his frustration translating into fiercely focused play.
Beau stole a quick look at Riley, a flicker of a smirk in his eyes, as if to say, See? No problem. Riley nodded back, relieved but still vigilant.
Near the end of the first half, the tension finally boiled over. A Bulls player slammed into Quinn, hitting him with a brutal shoulder check that sent him sprawling. But Quinn was up in an instant, his eyes blazing as he stalked toward the player, exuding a kind of fierce, unshakable intensity. Without hesitation, he ripped off his gloves, grabbing the player's jersey with a rough, almost possessive grip, his knuckles already clenched for the fight.
The refs were scrambling to pull them apart, but Quinn didn't back down. Muscles taut, jaw clenched, he looked every bit the enforcer, his strong frame towering as he exchanged low, angry words with the Bulls player. Despite the chaos around them, Quinn's gaze was unwavering, a mix of defiance and protectiveness as if he'd single-handedly take on anyone who came for his team.
As they were sent to the penalty box, Quinn didn't break eye contact, his glare simmering with an edge that said he wasn't done yet. There was something captivating in the way he held himself, his presence magnetic, a blend of raw power and loyalty that sent a ripple through the crowd.
Riley could feel his own temper rising as he watched the Bulls continue their relentless aggression. He didn't even notice Beau sliding up beside him until he felt a nudge against his shoulder.
"Hey, take it easy," Beau muttered, a glint of determination in his eyes as he glanced around the ice. "They want us riled up."
Riley took a breath, nodding. "Yeah, well, it's working."
"Save it for the game." Beau gave him a steady look. "We need you out here, not in the penalty box."
Riley let out a quick breath, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. "Fine, fine." But he couldn't resist shooting a warning look at the nearest Bull. "No promises if they keep it up, though."
Beau smirked, ready to get back into position. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
They headed into the locker room at halftime, bruised but determined. Coach wasted no time going over new strategies, emphasizing how they needed to outsmart the Bulls instead of matching their physicality. Avery finally spoke up, his voice steady, and Riley noticed a change in his demeanor, like he was shaking off whatever had been distracting him. Riley's curiosity about Avery's connection to the Bulls player lingered, but he decided not to press just yet.
When they returned to the ice for the second half, they came out fighting harder than before. Riley stayed close to Beau whenever possible, making sure he had his back, but also letting him play his game. It was brutal, the Bulls taking every chance to shove, jab, and taunt, but the Hawks didn't back down.
In the end, despite their best efforts, the Hawks lost. But as they skated off the ice, bruised and battered, Riley knew this was just the beginning of the season. They'd face the Bulls again—and next time, they'd be ready.
