Borrowed Love On Ice

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Chapter 2

  XAVIER'S POV

  The door clanged shut behind her. I stood there, alone on the rink with a beating heart, u could feel it hammering through my chest hard.

  This wasn't from the practice, or game, it was from something different, something scary, something in me knew that's her.

  "From her." I repeated quietly, sighing loudly.

  Melissa Brown.

  One second she was threatening to break my teeth, the next she was blushing. Then she hit her damn head and bolted like I'd lit her on fire.

  What the hell was that? And most importantly, why did she do that?

  I bent over, picked up the last puck, and shot it straight into the net.

  Clack.

  Maybe I should've stayed quiet. Maybe I shouldn't have teased her. But honestly, I liked it, it brought a sense of belonging to me.

  I liked watching how her cheek raise a little whenever I call her baby or try to get close to her.

  She barely spoke on the team. Always straight-faced, cold, all business. You could score a game-winning goal and she'd just nod and skate off, like nothing happened. She hardly joined the team in celebrating or whining over our loss.

  But tonight? I got under her skin, and I wanted to do it again. Shit.

  I tugged off my gloves and pulled out my phone.

  I wasn't sure why I always did this whenever I was alone. I shouldn't be doing this not when I had a girlfriend.

  Something about her bothered me. Not in the bad way, in the pulling at the edge of your thoughts kind of way.

  Before I could stop myself, my fingers were already typing on my phone: Melissa Brown hockey

  A few articles popped up. Stats, mostly. An highlight came up, it was from last year.

  "Youngest Female Player to Break Into Men's League". Another calling her "The Ice Queen of England."

  Fitting. But ice? She truly deserves the title 'ice queen' but seeing a part of that ice break in a blush today made me feel a kind of way.

  The fact that was able to make Melissa Brown blush, I'm not sure I could take the picture off my mind. I found myself smiling and scrolling more.

  There were clips of her plays—clean passes, tight defense, razor-sharp steals.

  I couldn't find any interviews, no social posts, no drama, nothing personal.

  No favorite band. No dumb TikToks. Not even a quote.

  Just... hockey. And a name I should've never been typing into my phone.

  I locked it and shoved it back into my pocket.

  Get it together Xavier. She was Katrina's sister. My girlfriend's sister and this? Was pure stalking. Off-limits. Out of bounds. Wrong.

  I sighed and left the rink.

  Katrina opened the hotel room door before I knocked. "There you are!" she said, launching into my chest.

  I caught her out of reflex. Her hair smelled like strawberries and some kind of floral shampoo. She pulled back just enough to look at me. "Where'd you go? It's been like forever." She whispered.

  "Just needed a bit of air," I said, keeping it casual. "Cleared my head on the ice."

  "You're not hurt, right? Oh how I love being in your arms." She whispered again.

  "No, babe." I kissed her forehead. "All good."

  She looked at me a little too long. "You sure?"

  I nodded, sliding my hands into her shoulders."Promise."

  Her arms slid around my waist. "You were amazing today."

  I smiled. "You say that every game."

  "Because it's true." She poked my chest. "MVP and trust me, I'm lucky to have you."

  "Melissa was insane too," I said before I could stop myself.

  Katrina blinked. "Yeah. I guess."

  I rubbed the back of my neck. "I mean... she's fast. Her passes are crazy clean."

  "She's my sister," Katrina said, stepping back.

  "I know. I just..." I cleared my throat. "I'm just saying, she's good."

  There was a pause.

  Her smile faltered a little.

  "Katrina," I said, wrapping an arm around her, "You don't have to worry, I'm with you. Always."

  She gave a small nod. "It's not that."

  I tilted her chin gently. "Then what?"

  Her voice dropped. "She just… She's different now. People notice her more. They look at her and not me. And it's stupid, but I feel… small."

  That hit me harder than I expected.

  Katrina always seemed so loud. So sure. Always walking like the world owed her attention and acted like a real queen but hearing her voice out her fears….it didn't sit well with me.

  And now? She looked vulnerable.

  "I see you," I said, pulling her close again. "Only you, you're beautiful, smart and intelligent. I'd never trade you for any other person, trust me." I whispered.

  "You better," she said, half-laughing into my chest.

  "I do."

  We lay in bed later, tangled up under the hotel sheets. Her leg was over mine, her head on my shoulder, her breathing slow but she was awake.

  "What are you thinking about?" I asked, trying to pull her out of whatever she was thinking.

  "Just wondering what they all see in her, she's just a girl who plays hockey, nothing more." The loathe was minor but still evident in her voice.

  I didn't say anything, didn't know what to say. What should I have said? 'i don't think you're right because your sister is amazing'?

  That would have been the cruelest thing to say to someone who was already feeling down, so I swallowed my thought instead.

  After a while, Katrina was falling asleep. And I should've been, too. But I wasn't, I couldn't.

  I stared at the ceiling, trying to erase the memory of earlier. The way Melissa looked under the soft arena lights. The way her jaw clenched when I teased her. The way she blushed.

  God, that blush. Why did I even notice? What's wrong with me? In bed with one sister and thinking about the other?

  I sighed.

  She was cold, rude, never smiles, a complete grumpy and a total pain in the ass.

  And still… she still manages to interest me, not the way Katrina did.

  Katrina was all noise and sparkle, while Melissa was cold, very cold. You couldn't ignore her, even when she wasn't saying a word.

  She has an aura around her, clouding the very space she occupies. Especially when she wasn't saying a word.

  As I turned my head on the pillow restlessly, I was almost tempted to pick my phone and scroll through the Internet again.

  But I stopped myself, I wasn't going to see that blush, none of her photos had a blush or smile.

  "What's going on?" I whispered and I'm sure this would be the second time I've said this today.

  Katrina mumbled something and snuggled closer, her hand sliding up my chest.

  "Love you," she whispered.

  "Love you too," I said softly, kissing her hair.

  But my chest was tight, because whatever came out from my mouth a moment ago felt like a big fat lie. And I hated myself for that.

  Why the hell can't I stop thinking about Melissa Brown again?

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