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Dillon leans over. “Do we need to get her a jersey?”

I roll my eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what your face said afterward,” Mikey comments. “You looked like someone just rewrote your entire playbook.”

James nods. “I’ve seen you take slapshots with less intensity than that kiss.”

I open my mouth to reply, but Coach Stephens walks in. Saved by the coach.

Coach barks. “Focus up. Big game tonight. Let’s get on the ice and warm up.”

The teasing dies instantly. Sticks hit the floor. Laces tighten. Everyone locks in.

We hit the ice hard for practice with tight drills, high tempo. I’m paired with Dillon for the first rep. He’s fast, scrappy, and annoyingly chipper before noon.

“Still thinking about your neighbor?” he teases as we circle the cones.

“Still thinking about leaving you behind on this breakout,” I mutter.

Coach blows the whistle. “Faster transitions, let’s go!”

We run neutral zone reps and cycle coverage. I dial it in, pushing a little harder, skating a little tighter.

I catch Nina sitting on the bench with her notebook, watching like always.

After a round of corner battles, she waves me over as I grab water.

“Your stride’s tight,” she says, not looking up. “You okay? You look a little off like your timing’s lagging half a second.”

“I’m good. Just locking in.”

She finally meets my eyes. “Stay focused and breathe.”

I nod and head back to the line, but my pulse is still somewhere between her advice and last night’s kiss.

Because something about that moment with Mandy…short, public, and completely unexpected…is still humming just under my skin.

And it’s not going away.

***

I bounce on the balls of my feet, shifting my stick from one hand to the other as the announcer’s voice echoes above us.

“Acers fans… it’s game night!”

Connor’s tapping his gloves like a drumbeat against his thighs. Parker stretches one leg out and rolls his neck. James smacks Ethan’s helmet just because.

“Let’s light it up,” I mutter under my breath.

We step into the roar. Lights flashing. Crowd on their feet. I scan the boards during warm-ups and…there she is.

Mandy. Up in the lower bowl, just off-center ice. Her dark hair’s pulled back, and she’s holding a drink and food in her hands. Kira’s next to her, already cheering like it’s the playoffs.

They’re here.

Shit. Focus, man.

The puck drops hard in the first period. I crash into the game with energy, pinching the boards and throwing my weight into every check. Defense is tight. Puck movement’s sharp.