Chapter 52: Self-Doubt
Rhys
Two days later,
"...And that is the final horn! A complete and utter blowout here at the arena! The Iron Wolves haven’t just been defeated; they’ve been dismantled! The Northern Avalanche move on, kicking the Wolves out of the series with a staggering eight-goal performance tonight!"
The roar of the crowd was wild, vibrating through the glass and into the soles of my skates. I leaned on my stick, gasping for air, listening to the play-by-play echoing over the PA system. We had finally done it.
"An unbelievable night for the Avalanche’s blue line," the commentator’s voice boomed. "Tonight was surprisingly shocking! We got four goals from Vale, two from Captain Calder, and single tallies from Reid and Rossi. This team came in more powerful than we’ve seen all season. With this win, the Avalanche are the first to proceed from the Eastern Conference! They’ll be waiting in the wings to see who survives the next round to face them."
I wiped a smear of ice and sweat from my visor, my heart still thudding against my ribs. Beside me, Kayden, Luca, and Miller were already shouting, slamming their sticks against the ice in a rhythmic, deafening celebration.
I looked over at Kayden. Four goals. That was insanely crazy. It was the best I had seen of him ever since he joined the Northern Avalanche. He had weaved through the Wolves’ defense like a veteran. It was a side he hadn’t shown before; I never knew Kayden had such talent.
Kayden caught my gaze, his chest heaving under his sweat-soaked jersey, and he grinned widely at me.
"Ice Prince," he called as he skated towards me, stopping abruptly before he could touch my chest. "That was a good game," he said, breathing heavily. "I couldn’t believe I could ever score four goals," he boasted, but there was no hint of arrogance in his tone.
I adjusted my grip on my stick, refusing to let him see how much his performance—and his proximity—was actually affecting me. As much as I liked that we won, it felt like he was taking all the attention away from me.
"Two of those were off my assists, Kayden," I countered, trying so hard not to let the jealousy show in my tone. I shouldn’t have been, but I was—because unlike me, Kayden was free-spirited, while I felt I had to prove myself on the ice every single second.
"Always the professional," he chuckled, stepping even closer until our pads brushed. "We’re moving on, Captain. The Eastern Conference is ours. Which means," he reached out, his gloved hand gripping the back of my neck for a second as he whispered, "we are on tonight." He flashed me a wink before turning around to join the rest of the team in the center circle.
I felt the heat rise immediately to my cheeks as I watched him go. Between my legs, I could already feel the pressure in my pants. Keep it together, I muttered to my cock, which was starting to harden. If it went any further, everyone would figure out I had a boner. His ass is yours tonight.
I let out a groan and walked to join the rest of the team. As we headed towards the locker rooms, some of the teammates stopped for interviews.
The blinding flashes of the cameras were usually a turn-off, and I tried to ignore them, but when I saw Kayden jogging to stand beside me, we caught the full attention of the press.
Reporters surged against the barricades, screaming our names as they thrust microphones toward us, giving us no choice but to stop.
"Kayden Vale, Rhys Calder over here!" one reporter screamed, the camera flashes reflecting off her glasses. "You had four goals in a single game and you’ve only been with the Avalanche for a few months. The question is: how is a rookie playing like a ten-year veteran?"
"I’ve got a good coach and the right guidance," he answered smoothly, casting a quick, unreadable glance my way. "When you’re surrounded by the best, you play like the best."
Before I could process the look he gave me, another reporter pivoted toward me. "Rhys Calder! There’s talk that the Northern Avalanche’s era of stability is changing. With Kayden’s performance tonight, people are asking: is your winning term coming to an end? Has Kayden finally come for your throne to take your reigning title as the Ice Prince?"
The question hit me like a blindside hit into the boards. For a split second, the world went silent.
I had expected this because Kayden was new and young, while I was closing in on thirty. People tend to look for new faces and forget the old ones.
As if sensing my uneasiness, Kayden reached out and placed a hand on my back, bringing me out of my thoughts. I forced a diplomatic smile onto my face as I looked at him.
"Oh, this one right here is not taking my throne," I said playfully, but deep down, I was burning with anxiety about what was to come. My heart pounded hard, and I felt like if I got one more question about Kayden taking my place, I might actually have a panic attack.
Kayden let out a bright, genuine laugh, shaking his head at the reporters. "He’s right. The man is a beast on the ice—a total legend. I’m just glad I’m on his side. He is one of the hockey players I look up to."
I didn’t know if Kayden had said the last part just to make me feel better, but I was glad to hear him say it.
The press shifted immediately, sensing the heat between us.
A young reporter, clutching a notepad covered in Avalanche stickers, leaned over the rail with an excited grin. "Rhys! Kayden! I have to tell you, the fanbase is shipping you two incredibly hard. I’m actually a member of your main ship base! We’re all dying to know—is that chemistry real?"
Kayden leaned slightly toward her microphone, his eyes flashing with a playful, dangerous smirk. "We have incredible chemistry," he answered. "I’ll leave it at that."
He didn’t give them a "yes" or a "no," just a cryptic answer that I knew would set the internet on fire.
We answered the rest of the questions and pushed through the double doors into the locker room. Inside, the atmosphere was a riot. Music was blasting—a heavy, bass-thumping track that mirrored the adrenaline still pumping through our veins.
Miller was already standing on a bench, swinging his jersey around his head and shouting, while Luca and Jaxson were dumping water over each other.
"Easy there, Gerald!" Theo shouted to one of our teammates. "We shouldn’t get hurt before we hit the club tonight!"
"Yes!" Gerald screamed, hoisting Theo up.
Everyone went back to cheering for the win—even Kayden joined in—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about what the reporter had said.
Was I losing my edge? Was the world just waiting for me to step aside?
I walked toward my stall, my hands trembling slightly as I began to unfasten my heavy pads.
Just as I reached for my bag, my phone vibrated against the wood of the bench. The name on the caller ID made the blood in my veins turn to slush.
Father.
I stared at the vibrating phone, the screen glowing like a warning sign in the middle of our party.
I knew this wasn’t a call to celebrate my two goals; it was a call to remind me that I was never quite good enough.