Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 391 - Chapitre 400

Two years into their pro careers, Ryder Hayes still sometimes woke up convinced the last forty-eight months had been one long, impossible dream.They were still with the Blackmoor Phoenix, and the team had become family. The organization had grown stronger every season, the locker room tight-knit and loud, the city embracing them like they belonged. Ryder and Jax were no longer bright young prospects — they were cornerstones. They’d gone from strength to strength together, teammates on and off the ice, sharing the same hotel rooms on road trips, the same apartment in Blackmoor, and now this.The cabin on Silver Pine Lake.Jax had done exactly what he always threatened to do: bought the cabin and the entire private stretch of shoreline that came with it. It sat nestled among tall pines, with a long wooden dock stretching out over water so clear it looked like glass in summer and froze solid enough for skating in winter. The main apartment in Blackmoor was still home during the season,

Jamie had almost died over a caramel macchiato, until a woman stepped forward, snatched the cup, and said, “It’s Maxine.”He turned toward the library, tucking his phone away only to pull it out again thirty seconds later like a reflex. He clocked in, waved at a coworker, and slid behind the desk with practiced ease.He was good at this job. Quiet, organized, helpful… but not too helpful. The kind of person people trusted to know where every single book in the building belonged.MegaMax_31: what are you up to?_JPEG_ : workingMegaMax_31: sounds ambitiousJamie snorted, ducking his head so the patron at the desk wouldn’t see. He typed under the counter, thumbs moving fast._JPEG_ : it’s notMegaMax_31: guess i should probably get a job or something_JPEG_ : probablyMegaMax_31: hate that you agreed so fastMegaMax_31: i like side quests better anywayJamie snorted. _JPEG_ : you never finish the main storyMegaMax_31: side quests are more funJamie rolled his eyes again, but the smil

Jamie stared.Not in a subtle way. Not in the polite half-second you’re allowed before your eyes flick away. He stared way too long, frozen somewhere between fascination and disbelief, his brain refusing to cooperate with his eyes.This wasn’t possible.Max wasn’t supposed to exist like this. Solid, present, taking up space in a campus coffee shop. Jamie had always assumed he lived somewhere safely abstract. The other side of the country. A different time zone. A place that existed only in voice chat and text bubbles, nowhere he could accidentally run into him between classes.Seeing him like this felt wrong, like a glitch. Like someone had dragged an online character into the real world without warning.Max was even more attractive in person.Obnoxiously attractive. The photo hadn’t lied, but it hadn’t captured everything. The faint crease between Max’s brows when he focused, the way his eye contact held steady instead of flicking away, how easily his smile came and went, quick as a

A few weeks later, Jamie sat on a hard plastic seat in the back of Intro to Media Reporting, trying not to yawn. His friend, Ava, sat beside him, already organized, color‑coded tabs peeking out of her notebook. They’d ended up in most of the same classes this semester, close enough now that Jamie automatically took the seat next to her without thinking.The room smelled faintly of dry erase markers and burnt coffee. It was one of those early-semester classes that still felt provisional, everyone half-watching the professor, half-watching each other, laptops open but attention drifting.Professor Klein stood at the front, sleeves rolled up, glasses perched low on his nose. He had the kind of energy that suggested he actually liked teaching undergrads, which Jamie both admired and feared.“All right,” Klein said, clapping his hands once. “This semester isn’t theoretical. It’s practical. You’re not just learning how to report—you’re going to be doing real work.”Jamie straightened a litt

Jamie got home just in time to see an old Jeep roll into the lot.It rattled like it had more history than safety features, sun‑faded paint, one door a slightly different shade than the rest. It slowed near the dorm entrance, music thumping faintly through open windows, laughter spilling out with it.Jamie slowed, eyeing it from a distance.Then Zach climbed out.He looked relaxed, hoodie half‑unzipped, hair a little mussed like he’d just been dropped off mid‑conversation. He said something over his shoulder that made the guys in the Jeep laugh, then slammed the door shut and headed toward the building.Jamie ran after him.“Zach—hey!”Zach turned at the sound of his name, surprise flashing briefly across his face before it smoothed into an easy grin. “Jamie! What’s up, man?”Jamie slowed as he reached him, suddenly aware of his own breathing. He bent forward slightly, hands braced on his thighs, lungs burning more than they should have.“Hockey,” he panted.Zach grinned wider. “Hocke