
Skye Emerson stood frozen at the edge of the Stonebridge ice rink, her sketchpad clutched tightly against her chest as Laurel Dane’s sharp gaze cut through her. She knew who she was of course, Marya never ceases to tell her everything. The knowing smirk that didn’t reach Laurel’s eyes didn’t disappear yet. Her eyes are still darting between Skye and Knox Callahan as if cataloging every detail for later use.
“Funny,” Laurel said, her voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that didn’t match the ice in her stare. “I had no idea this fundraiser came with… perks.” She tilted her head, her smile sharpening as she looked directly at Skye.
Knox’s jaw twitched, a muscle jumping beneath the surface, but he didn’t take the bait. “Don’t you have cheer practice?” he asked casually, as he adjusted the strap of his duffel bag. His eyes didn’t leave Laurel, but there was no warmth in them.
Laurel’s smile widened, undeterred. She pushed off the boards where she stood and then approached and stood in front of the two. “See you around, Skye,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered away, her words carrying a weight that lingered long after her figure disappeared through the rink’s exit. Skye’s stomach twisted, the unspoken threat settling in her chest. Laurel didn’t create a scene seeing Skye with Knox which was weird for Skye. She tried to shake it off though, but her heart was beating fast at what awaits her.
Knox didn’t comment, his expression unreadable as he turned toward the ice. “Let’s get back to it,” he said, as if the moment with Laurel hadn’t happened. Skye nodded, her mind still reeling from the kiss in the utility room and now this new layer of tension. She followed him to a small table near the bleachers, where they’d spread out their notes for the fundraiser happening in some days to come.
They took a seat at the corner as they dove into the planning, but the air between them felt different than earlier when they first met. Skye pushed for sustainable ideas as she outlined a budget for the charity skate and art auction. “We can use local vendors for the food, keep costs down,” she said, scribbling numbers in her notebook. “And the art auction can feature student work, mine, others, whatever. It’s personal, people will like it.”
Knox leaned back, his arms crossed, one brow raised. “You really think people are gonna show up for a bunch of drawings and cheap meals?” he said, just a teasing edge. “We need something flashier. A big raffle, maybe some signed hockey gear. Give them a reason to open their wallets.”
Skye rolled her eyes. “Not everything has to be a spectacle, Callahan. Sometimes simple works.” She tapped her pen against the table, meeting his gaze. His knee bumped hers under the table, lingering for a moment too long before he shifted, and the contact sent a spark through her, her pulse quickening.
They bickered back and forth, their voices rising and falling, until Knox suggested a live DJ for the skate event.
“A DJ? We’re not throwing a rave, Knox.” Skye retorted.
He let out a smile, a rare expression that softened the sharp lines of his face. “Live a little. Does this school look like the Gutter where you live where people do not like and can’t afford something flashy and classy?.”
Skye’s expression shifted for some reason, he chuckled out some words. “I'm just kidding.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief, and for a moment, sky found herself smiling. She hated how much she enjoyed this side of him. It was disarming, and she wasn’t sure she liked what it did to her carefully constructed walls built around her life and lifestyle.
The moment was interrupted when Maya appeared, balancing a steaming mug of cocoa while her other hand and attention was on her phone. She barely looked in Sky’s direction. “Thought you could use a break,” she said, setting the mug on the table when suddenly she lifted her head and her eyes flicked between Skye and Knox, a cold glint towards Knox in her expression, but she didn’t comment. “Don’t work too hard.” She said to Skye.
“Thanks,” Skye muttered, her focus already back on the papers in front of her. Skye reached for her mug, and as she did, Knox’s hand brushed her wrist, the touch sending shivers down her spine as she looked up to him. He leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that Maya, already retreating, wouldn’t hear. “Be careful,” he said, the words soft but carrying a weight that made her heart skip. She wasn’t sure if he meant the fundraiser, Laurel, or something else entirely.
Skye pulled her hand back, her skin tingling where his fingers had been. “You are scaring me,” she said. Knox’s lips twitched, but he didn’t reply, turning back to their notes.
As the afternoon wore on, the snow outside thickened, blanketing the world in a soft hush. They moved to the storage room to sort through supplies for the fundraiser, banners, decorations, anything they could repurpose. The room was small, the air filled with the scent of old papers. Shelves towered above them, stacked with cardboard boxes. Skye reached for a box labeled “Winter Fest,” but it was just out of reach, her fingers grazing the edge. She couldn’t reach it due to her 5 ft height.
“You have a running sharp mouth but never any height.” Knox blurted as he stepped behind her, his chest brushing her back as he reached up to grab the box. The sudden closeness made her breath catch, the warmth of his body sending chills around her as she held herself from snapping at him. She loved that feeling.
He set the box down, but didn’t step back, his presence still towering over her as she turned to face him. They were too close, not tearing off the eye contact with each other. His green eyes held hers, intensively.
Skye’s heart pounded louder, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed the gap, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was bolder than the one in the utility room. His hands slid to her hips, pulling her close against him as her pulse raced. The kiss deepened, her fingers curling into the back of his jacket as the world narrowed to just them.
Suddenly, a sharp knock shattered the moment, jolting them apart. “Callahan, I need you on the ice,” Coach Keller’s gruff voice barked through the door. “Now.” He added. Couch Brent Keller is 45 years old. His personality was Intense, old-school, manipulative, power-hungry and he’s the former hockey pro turned coach. Known for playing favorites and pressuring players into decisions that benefit his reputation. His intentions with Knox was to make Knox the poster boy of the team and ride his success into a college coaching career. He’s a manipulator too but Knox doesn’t see all these in him. Knox only sees him as a mentor who inspires him and wants him to succeed in hockey playing and academically. Always making sure Knox is not distracted in any way.
Knox stepped back, his breath uneven, his eyes still locked on Skye’s. A slow, almost dangerous smile spread across his face, full of promise and unfinished business. “Duty calls,” he said, his voice low, before turning to grab his helmet and head for the door.
Skye stood there, her heart still racing, her lips tingling from the kiss. She pressed a hand to her cheek, trying to steady herself as the door swung shut, leaving just Skye to her thoughts of fairy tale.


