His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 2

OLIVE’s POV

“I’m not going to the game. What the fuck was I thinking?”

I slammed my forehead against my desk hard enough that my monitor shook. Making life decisions based on a magazine photo? That was a new low, even for me.

Brenda didn’t even look up from her computer. “You can’t back out now. You already agreed.”

“I got so motivated to go because I saw some hot guy in a magazine. A magazine, Brenda. That’s insane.”

“And?” She was still typing. “I find that perfectly reasonable. Not every day someone finds their rebound within seconds of a breakup.”

“I’m not trying to rebound—”

“To what? Sit here and overthink until you convince yourself Cole cheating was your fault?” She stopped typing. Turned to look at me. “Because I can already see it happening. You’re doing that thing where you spiral.”

She was right.

“What if I wasn’t there enough?” The words spilled out. “What if the long distance was too hard—”

“Okay, stop. Stop right there.” Brenda stood up and leaned against my desk. “I’m gonna say this once. Stop being a little bitch crying over mediocre dick.”

My mouth snapped closed.

“I’m serious, Olive. Cole Maddox is mediocre at hockey, mediocre in bed—yes, you told me, wine drunk, don’t deny it—and apparently mediocre at being faithful. You spent two years standing in the rain at his practices. You drove three hours to watch him warm benches. And this is how he repays you? Fuck him.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. You’re going to Chicago. You promised Hunter months ago you’d be there for his first NHL game. That promise had nothing to do with Cole and everything to do with your brother who’s always had your back.”

She was right about that too. Hunter had been asking me to come to games since he signed with the farm team. Back then, the idea of him making the NHL seemed like a sweet fantasy. Now it was real, and I’d promised to be there.

“Okay, I get it.” But I was smiling now, just a little.

“Good. Now stop spiraling and—” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes locking on something behind me. “Oh shit.”

I turned to follow her gaze.

The TV.

And right there, filling the entire screen, was Cole’s face.

My stomach dropped.

He looked good. Of course he looked good. Blonde hair perfectly styled, gray eyes that looked almost silver under the camera lights.

But that wasn’t what made my breath catch.

Because tucked under his arm, pressed against his side like she belonged there, was a woman.

Stunning. Blonde hair cascading in perfect waves, red dress that hugged every curve.

She was laughing. Head thrown back, hand resting on Cole’s chest, fingers spread like she owned him.

And that hair—it looked exactly like the hair I’d seen spilling down her back on that video call.

“Cole Maddox was spotted last night with his alleged new girlfriend, Sophia Mercer, aboard a private cruise ship,” the reporter’s voice filled the office.

White text appeared beneath her face.

Sophia Mercer, 23

Mercer.

“She’s related to him,” I whispered.

Brenda’s fingers were already flying across her keyboard. “Let me check—oh. Oh fuck. Olive.”

She turned her monitor toward me.

Zane Mercer – Top NHL player for the Chicago Wolves. One sister: Sophia Mercer, 23.

And there was a photo. Action shot. Zane on the ice, helmet off, hair dark with sweat, jaw clenched. Eyes shining with fury.

He looked dangerous. Powerful.

And I’d seen this photo before.

The realization hit me hard.

“Olive?” Brenda’s voice sounded far away.

Six months after Cole and I started dating. I’d been looking for a pen in his practice bag when I found a photo tucked inside his notepad. Folded. Hidden.

This photo.

“Who’s this?” I’d asked.

Cole had snatched it from my hands. His face had gone red, jaw tight.

“Don’t touch that.” His voice had been sharp. “Don’t ever go through my stuff, Olive.”

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