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Abby’s standing a few steps away, looking as radiant as ever in a simple blouse and jeans that somehow make her look effortlessly beautiful. But there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She’s here, but…

Is her heart in it?

Quinn jumps in beside her, scanning the crowd with a mix of curiosity and mild disinterest. “Okay, where’s the food? I didn’t come here to starve.”

I chuckle, “Over by the auction table.” And Abby adds: “But don’t bid on anything while you’re there. I don’t need you walking out with a signed jersey that costs more than my car.”

“Ha!” Quinn smirks. “If it’s Wes Archer’s jersey, I might make an exception.”

I blink.Wait… what?

As if summoned by her words, Wes strolls in from the far side of the room, effortlessly charming in a casual button-down and jeans, flashing that easygoing grin that drives women crazy.

Oh, boy.

“Speak of the devil,” I mutter under my breath, watching Quinn’s eyes do a quick once-over.

Her expression goes from indifferent to mildly intrigued in point one second flat.

“Wes Archer?” she murmurs, not nearly as casual as she’s trying to sound.

“Yep.” I smirk, fully aware of what’s about to happen.

And I’m not wrong.

“Hey, Hayes.” Wes claps me on the back before his eyes drift toward Quinn. He gives her a reciprocal once-over, his grin widening. “And who’s this?”

Quinn crosses her arms, her expression cool but her eyes giving her away. “Quinn. Abby’s sister.”

Wes’s grin turns downright dangerous. “Ah, so you’re the famous Quinn I’ve heard so much about.”

I’m pretty sure Quinn just forgot how to breathe, but she looks cool as a cucumber

“Famous?” She raises a brow, pretending she’s not affected, but her voice betrays her.

“Beck never shuts up about you,” Wes says, his tone playful but smooth. “Although, I didn’t expect you to be… well…”

Quinn narrows her eyes. “Well, what?”

“So way out of his league.”

Quinn blinks, and for a split second, I see it—the spark.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who just met me,” she quips, but her lips are tugging into a reluctant smile.

“Confidence is one of my better qualities.” Wes winks, and I swear I can almost hear the sizzle in the air.

I clear my throat, watching this play out with mild amusement. I’m one hundred percent going to give Wes hell for this later.

“Okay, lovebirds,” I mutter. “Maybe save the flirting for after the charity event?”

Quinn’s cheeks flush, but Wes? He just looks way too pleased with himself.

The event is in full swing, and Jake’s thriving. He’s tried everything—face painting, shooting pucks, and even a quick meet-and-greet with some of the other Ice Hawks players. His laughter echoes through the space, and I feel a warmth settle in my chest.

But I’m not out of the woods yet. The real chaos starts when Wes decides to crank things up a notch.

“Beck.” Wes sidles up to me while Jake is practicing slapshots. His grin is way too mischievous for my liking.