Play With Me ✔️|| 2 || Off the Ice Series

06 | Jason

I groan, the sound guttural and dry. My mouth is parched, the tiny pebbles rolling under my fingertips doing nothing to distract from the raw thirst clawing at my insides.

The pebbles roll under my fingertips as I clench my fist, lifting myself into a push up position. My arms shake beneath me, muscles straining to keep me upright. Every muscle protests, the ache familiar yet more intense, like the aftermath of a brutal workout followed by a firefight with the club and then a full-force collision on the ice with some dickhead holding a stick and a grudge. I knew that pain all too well—earned it, lived through it. But this? This feels worse.

What the hell happened?

The sun bares down on me, the harsh rays blanketing me in its hot caress and I squint up at the sky, blinking at the clear blue view. My head shifts to the side, neck stiff and stare at the rolling waves beside me, lapping at the shore gently. It's then it all comes rushing back, the storm, the waves, the boat. Arden.

I push myself up, head whipping from side to side as I search the shore for the insufferable, stubborn woman.

"Arden!" I yell, stumbling to a stand and beginning to run the length of the beach, staring out into the rolling waves. "Arden! Where are you?!" My heart pounds in my chest, fear gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. If she's hurt—or worse...

If she's fucking dead I'm going to fucking kill her and then Matt will kill me.

I spin, eyes frantically eating up the distance down the other side of the beach, "God fucking damnit Arden!" I spin around, scanning and scanning, until finally, a figure comes into focus up the shore, barely more than a silhouette in the heat waves. As I get closer, I see her—black hair tangled, face ashen, body twisted in a way that makes my stomach drop.

"Arden!" I yell, skidding to a stop beside her, dropping to my knees. I roll her towards me, brushing her hair out of her face with hands that tremble. The relief that floods me when I feel the warmth of her skin and find her pulse steady is almost enough to bring me to heel.

"Arden, wake up." I whisper, swallowing roughly, thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "Please, baby, wake up."

Her eyes flutter open, and I get a peak at those dark eyes that have haunted my dreams and then she groans, trying to roll away from me. Instinctively, I catch her, keeping her in my lap, not ready to let her go.

"What's happening?" she whispers, her voice barely audible as she squints up at me. "Where are we?" I follow her gaze to the ocean and then to the dense trees behind us.

"I don't know," I admit softly, staring back down at her. "But we need to move, or we're going to get sick from dehydration." The sun is only getting hotter, and I can already feel the truth of my words in the pounding in my skull and the dryness in my throat.

I help her sit up, slipping my hands under her to steady her. She winces as she stands, and I see her staring down at her ankle, frowning. "I've twisted it," she mutters.

"Let's get into the shade first," I say, guiding her toward the trees. "Then we'll take a look."

I ease her down against a tree, its broad leaves offering some shelter from the sun. Kneeling at her feet, I carefully remove her soaked shoes and socks, inspecting her ankle. It's swollen, and I can tell it's going to bruise badly. "You won't be running away on that anytime soon."

She gives me a glare and I don't bother hiding my smug smile as I look back to the injury.

"Since when do you know first aid?" She whispers but she doesn't move to stop me.

I meet her gaze, my brow rising just a tad. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Arden. Maybe if you'd actually spoken to me in the last ten years-"

She pulls her leg away from me, wincing as she does. "Really, Jason?," she says, her voice a huff.