Chapter 3

“Magic,” Ronnie murmured. Christian didn’t bother correcting him. “I’m wondering if you have any of those fast, slick moves offthe ice, too.”

Christian grinned. Maybe Ronnie had meant something entirely different when he said they played on the same team.

* * * *

In the penalty box, Christian watches the time count down his five minutes off the ice. He should’ve expected the fight—since he first heard they’d be playing their opener against the Rebels, Christian dreaded this game. Part of him hoped maybe there were no hard feelings about his trade. No one but Ronnie knows he requested it. No one but Ronnie really should have cared. But the hard glint he’d seen in Eric’s eyes said otherwise. He’s the traitor now, the sell-out

Whatever, he tries to tell himself, but it still bothers him to think men he once played with, men he’d considered friends, have nothing civil left to say to him.

And then there’s Ronnie.