Chapter 6 FOGGED-UP

JAKE

“I saw that.”

Those three whispered words were looping in my brain. Someone in that crushing pile-on had felt the impact, seen the split-second press of Isaac's lips against my jaw, and called us out.

"Hell of a shot, White," Carter shouted over the locker room noise, slamming a hand down onto my shoulder. A sharp gasp tearing out of my throat, and he immediately pulled back.

"Yo, you’re completely pale. Are you okay?"

"Fine," I gritted out through clenched teeth,"Just... give me a second."

I forced my eyes up and froze. Isaac was standing right behind Carter.

"Go get some water, Carter," Isaac whispered.

Carter looked at me, then back at Isaac, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. "Right. Medical emergency." He gave me a mocking salute and vanished into the crowd of teammates.

The space around us shrunk instantly. The shouting, laughing, and clinking of hockey gear faded into a dull background hum, leaving just the two of us inside a suffocating bubble of heavy tension.

Isaac stepped into the space Carter had left, dropping heavily to one knee in front of me. He didn't say a word. He just reached out, his thick, gloved hands surprisingly steady as he started unlacing my skates for me.

"I can do it myself, Lim," I muttered, trying to pull my foot back, but the movement caught my torso and I groaned, the pain making my vision spotty.

"You're shaking so hard you're gonna knot them," he murmured, not looking up as his fingers worked the laces. He finished the first skate and moved to the second. "You took another massive hit in the third because you were protecting my blind side. Don't lie to me. Your ribs are done."

"It's hockey," I said, my voice cracking under the weight of the pain and the sheer panic vibrating in my chest. "I told you."

He reached up, his hand hovering just inches from my waistm

"Last night wasn't just hockey,Jake," he whispered, his voice vibrating deep in my chest. "And whatever happened out there on the ice during that celebration wasn't either."

"Not here, Lim," I hissed, my eyes darting frantically around the locker room, terrified of who might be watching us right now. "Someone... someone in the pile-on whispered it. Right in my ear. They saw you."

Isaac’s fingers stilled on my laces. A flash of genuine tension crossed his face, but he didn't pull away.

"Jake—"

"I said I’ve got it!" I snapped, my voice cracking loud enough that a couple of the guys at the far end of the bench glanced over. I shoved his hands away, fumbling with my laces. "Just... get away from me. Go celebrate with the others. Leave me alone."

He stood up slowly, towering over me again, his sweat-slicked hair sticking to his forehead. The softness in his eyes from the ice was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, hardened shield.

"Fine," he breathed, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous chill. "Message received, White."

I stayed hunched over on the bench, staring at the floorboards until the wood grain blurred, the electric heat of his phantom touch still burning against me.

"Everything good, man?" Carter asked, reappearing a few minutes later with two Gatorades.

"Peachy," I muttered, finally yanking my second skate off and throwing it violently into my bag. "I’m going back to the room. Tell Coach I’ve got a headache."

I didn’t turn on the lights when I got back. I just threw my heavy gear into the corner, stripped down to a t-shirt, and sat on the edge of my bed, staring into the shadows, my hand instinctively coming up to trace the exact spot on my jaw where his lips had pressed.

Then, the door clicked open.

Isaac didn't say a word at first. He just dropped his bag with a heavy, echoing thud, framing himself against the bright hallway light before kicking the door shut, plunging us back into the dark.

"What the hell was that, Jake?" his voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"What was what?" I snapped, finally looking up at him, my defenses locking instantly into place.

"The shove. The 'get away from me' act in front of the whole team," Isaac stepped deep into the room, his movements tight, furious. "I was trying to help you. You were completely grey in the face on that bench."

"I don't need your help, Lim! I don't need you playing nurse or putting your hands on me in the middle of a locker room where anyone can see!" I stood up, my chest heaving, the sheer physical pain in my ribs completely mixing with the emotional whiplash in my head.

"Where everyone can see what?" He closed the distance instantly, invading my space until his chest was inches from mine. "That I give a damn if you can walk? That we aren't trying to kill each other for once?"

"That you're getting in my head!" I yelled, the raw truth tearing out of my throat before I could stop it. I slammed my hands against his chest to shove him back, but he didn't budge an inch.

I grabbed the front of his shirt instead. "You’re everywhere! On the ice, in this room, sitting on my bed in the middle of the night... Ever since you told me you were chasing me, you’ve been completely suffocating me! You’re making it so I can’t even play my own game anymore!"

"Good!" Isaac roared back, his hands flying up to grip my forearms with an iron hold. "Maybe your game was garbage because you were too busy pretending you hated me for six years to realize I’m the only one who actually sees you, Jake!"

"I do hate you!" I screamed right into his face, my voice cracking.

"Then let go!" Isaac challenged, his face inches from mine, his hot breath ghosting against my lips, sending a terrifying jolt straight down my spine. "Let go of my shirt, Jake. Push me away right now and tell me you don't want me here. Tell me you want me to stop chasing you."

I stared at him, my fingers trembling violently where they were bunched in his jersey. My heart hammering so hard I thought it would literally shatter my bruised ribs from the inside out. I wanted to push him.But my grip on his shirt remained fiercely tight, anchoring him to me in the dark.

"That's what I thought," Isaac whispered. The anger completely drained from his voice, dropping into a breathless whisper that destroyed the very last of my walls.