Burning Ice - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

The arena was freezing, colder than I expected, and the energy in the air was almost suffocating. People were everywhere, yelling, clapping, waving signs like their lives depended on it. I'd never been to a sports game before, never even watched one on TV and yet here I was, sitting in the stands at a hockey game, completely out of my depth.
I adjusted my jacket, sinking deeper into the oversized seat as I tried to take it all in. The players zipped across the ice like it was second nature, their movements fast and sharp, the sound of skates cutting through ice blending with the echoing shouts of the crowd. It was chaos, but there was a rhythm to it too, a strange kind of beauty I hadn't expected.
And then there was Nate.
I spotted him almost instantly, his jersey number burned into my brain before I even realized I'd been looking for him. He was fast, his movements fluid yet commanding, like he was in complete control of everything around him.
But every time the puck got anywhere near him, my chest tightened, nerves prickling under my skin. I wasn't sure why like I mean, he was clearly good at this, one of the best on the ice. But watching him out there, knowing he could get hit or tripped or slammed into the boards at any second, made me feel anxious in a way I wasn't used to.
When someone checked him hard against the glass, I flinched, my fingers gripping the edge of my seat. He didn't even stumble, skating off like nothing had happened, but I couldn't help the way my heart leapt into my throat.
Get it together, Billie.
I tried to focus on the game itself with the back-and-forth of the puck, the quick passes, the way the crowd roared every time someone got close to scoring. It was all... intense. Way more intense than I'd thought it would be.
But no matter how hard I tried, my attention kept drifting back to Nate. Every time he had the puck, I felt like I was holding my breath. And every time he made a play—dodging defenders, passing with precision. I felt this strange mix of pride and relief, like I had any right to feel either of those things.
I didn't know much about hockey, but I could tell he was good. More than good. The way he moved, the way he commanded the ice and it was magnetic. He stood out, even in the middle of all this chaos.
By the second period, I'd given up trying to pretend I wasn't completely invested. My nerves were shot, my fingers tingling every time the puck came near him. And when he scored, when the horn blared and the crowd erupted, I found myself smiling without meaning to, caught up in the moment despite myself.
It was strange, feeling this connected to someone in a setting so foreign to me. But sitting here, watching Nate play, I couldn't help but feel... proud of him. And maybe even a little in awe.
When the final whistle blew and the game ended, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The team had won, and Nate had played one hell of a game. But as I watched him skate off the ice, his eyes scanning the crowd, I couldn't shake the nervous energy still buzzing under my skin.
Because being here, watching him like this felt like stepping into a world I didn't quite belong in. And yet, as his gaze found mine and he gave me the smallest, almost imperceptible nod, I realized I wasn't sure I wanted to leave it just yet.
After the game, I figured it'd be impossible to get in touch with Nate. The chaos of a big win, the celebrations, the adrenaline, it was all too much. He had a team to celebrate with, fans to deal with, and who knew how many interviews to get through. I figured I'd just wait for him to reach out when he could.
So when my phone buzzed a little later, I didn't expect it to be him. I almost didn't check it, assuming it was another message from one of my friends asking how it went or what I thought of the game. But then I saw Nate's name on the screen.
"Meet me at the club. Same place as last time," the text read.
It was a simple message, but the fact that he sent it made me feel like maybe he wanted to see me again. I couldn't help the flutter in my chest at the thought. After everything, his game, my nerves, my confusion about how much I felt for him it was a little overwhelming to think about.
I had only been to that club once, and the memory of that night was still fresh in my mind. The way he pulled me in for our first kiss, the way everything shifted between us in those few minutes it felt like things had changed in a way neither of us had expected. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I couldn't deny that it felt... important.
It wasn't exactly my scene, though. That club was full of people who seemed like they lived in a different world than mine. I wasn't really a fan of the loud music or the sea of faces, but for him, I'd go. I could only guess that the place was a popular post-game spot for him and his teammates. The way he seemed to fit in, the way he moved in the crowd.. it all made sense.
The nerves from the game had settled, but now it was like a new wave of anxiety was washing over me. What was he expecting from me tonight? What was I expecting? I didn't know.
But something told me I couldn't stay away.
When I got to the club, the bass from the music was already vibrating through the floor, making it hard to think clearly. I scanned the crowd, half-hoping Nate was already there, and sure enough, I spotted him standing by the bar, looking relaxed but with that familiar intensity that had never really left him.
For a second, I hesitated. What was I doing here? What did any of this mean?
But before I could talk myself out of it, I pushed through the crowd and made my way toward him. And when his eyes met mine, I felt that familiar spark, like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The noise in the club was almost deafening, the music thumping so loudly that it felt like the walls were vibrating, the lights flashing in every direction. But despite all the chaos around me, when I saw Nate, it was like everything else faded into the background.
He was leaning against the bar, looking effortlessly cool in a way I wasn't used to seeing him. His eyes lit up when he spotted me, and I couldn't help but smile. I wasn't sure what this was, exactly, what we were. But something about being near him felt right.
As I made my way toward him, I felt the usual nerves settling in. People in the crowd were moving in every direction, and I was suddenly self-conscious in the busy, loud atmosphere. I'd never really been a part of this world, the one where people came to clubs after big wins to drink and celebrate. It felt foreign to me, and I wasn't sure how to navigate it.
Before I could really think about it too much, Nate reached out and pulled me into him, wrapping his arm around me as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His touch was possessive, but in a way that made me feel like I belonged there with him.
His lips brushed my cheek in a soft, almost tender kiss that caught me off guard. It wasn't like the first kiss at the other club, hot and urgent. This one was different, almost protective, as if he was marking me as his in a way that was both comforting and thrilling at the same time.
I felt a rush of heat flood my chest and cheeks, a mixture of shyness and something deeper, something I hadn't expected. Our relationship—or whatever it was—hadn't been public. Hell, I wasn't even sure if it was really a "relationship" at all. But standing here with him, feeling the weight of his arm around me, I couldn't deny that part of me liked how possessive he seemed about having me near him.
It was a strange feeling of being wanted by someone who seemed to always know exactly what he wanted. But as much as I tried to remind myself to be cautious, there was something magnetic about the way he made me feel like I mattered, like I wasn't just some girl at the club but someone he wanted with him.
For a moment, the crowd around us didn't exist. It was just me and him, his warmth pressing against me, his scent surrounding me. And despite the uncertainty swirling in my mind, all I could focus on was how good it felt to be in his arms.
But I couldn't shake the lingering question: what did this all mean? And was I ready to dive into whatever was waiting for us next?
The night moved in a haze, the music thumping so loudly that it vibrated in my chest, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and expensive cologne. I was used to being in places like this, surrounded by lights and noise, the constant hum of attention. As an exotic dancer, the spotlight wasn't anything new to me. I was used to being looked at, to having people stare, to feeling the buzz of eyes on me. But tonight felt different.
I found myself zoning out, watching Nate interact with his teammates, surrounded by laughter and celebration. He was in his element, living in a world that felt completely foreign to me. His ease in this environment was impossible to ignore. He was laughing, chanting, completely absorbed in the festivities. The way his teammates clapped him on the back, the way he effortlessly commanded attention as it was all second nature to him. He belonged here.
And there I was, trying to fit in, standing in the middle of all this chaos, and it was like I couldn't escape the feeling of being out of place.
Sure, I was used to being in the center of attention, to the flashing lights and the loud music. But this was different. This wasn't my world. This wasn't a stage where I controlled the crowd's gaze. This was a world where Nate and his teammates were the stars, and everyone around them was drawn into their orbit. And for a moment, I felt like I was just on the outskirts, watching from the edge.
Even though I could hold my own in a crowded room, even though I knew how to turn heads and command attention, something about the way Nate and his teammates moved through the night so comfortable, so sure of themselves that made me feel like an outsider. I wasn't part of this. This wasn't my scene, and no matter how many times Nate checked on me, no matter how many times he smiled at me from across the room, I still felt like I didn't quite belong.
I saw him glance my way again, and his eyes met mine. He made his way over to me, asking if I was okay, if I was enjoying myself. He would make sure I had something to eat and a drink. He was trying, and I appreciated it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were living in two completely different worlds.
I was used to the attention, yes. But not like this. Not in a room full of people who seemed to breathe the same air as Nate. He was one of them, part of this larger-than-life world, and I was just someone trying to find my place in it.
I couldn't help but wonder did he even realize how different our lives were? Did he understand the gap between us, the way he moved through this world with ease, while I felt like I was fumbling to keep up?
The night had stretched on, the energy in the club only growing as the hours passed. Nate was still in the thick of it, laughing with his teammates, enjoying himself, and it was clear he was in his element. I watched him from across the room, his presence so magnetic, drawing everyone around him into the celebration. And I just... didn't fit.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, and I couldn't ignore the quiet ache in my chest, the way my thoughts were beginning to spiral. I should leave. I wanted to leave.
I hesitated, wondering if I should tell Nate. But then I caught sight of him again, laughing with his teammates, a drink in hand, clearly enjoying the night. I didn't want to interrupt that, didn't want to pull him away from his friends when he was finally letting loose. I wasn't sure what I'd even say, how would I explain that I just felt out of place here, that no matter how much I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't belong?
I stood up, gathering my things quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. A part of me wanted to slip away unnoticed, just fade into the background, away from the crowd. I didn't want to be that person who was clingy or needy, the one who made things awkward. So, I left.
I stepped out into the cool night air, the noise of the club still faint in the distance, and I felt a quiet weight settle over me.
This morning, everything had felt so simple. We were just two people, together in a bubble, in a space that was ours. But now? Now, things felt complicated. We hadn't even talked about what this—whatever it was—meant. We hadn't set any boundaries, hadn't labeled anything.
And tonight, seeing Nate in his element, surrounded by his teammates, his friends, it made me question everything.
I felt good this morning. Hopeful, even. But now I was leaving with confusion in my chest, wondering where things were headed, wondering if he even saw me in the same way I saw him. And I couldn't help but feel like the bubble we'd built had popped, leaving me standing here, in the real world, unsure of what came next.