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“I’m awake. And breathing. And very much an Acers fan.”

She fans herself dramatically.

Eventually, we call it a night. Kira disappears into her room with a snack and a Bluetooth speaker that’s already playing something upbeat. I double-check the lock, turn off the lights, and retreat to my bedroom, still humming with the energy of the game.

I slip into my pajamas and pull the covers up to my chest, but sleep doesn’t come easy. The image of Nate on the ice focused, fierce, and fast, won’t leave my head. And the way he looked at me in the stands? It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t nothing.

I close my eyes and sigh, and force myself to go to sleep.

***

The next day, I’m halfway through a brutal practice essay when there’s a knock on the door. It’s midafternoon, and I expect it to be a package or Kira forgetting her keys again.

But it’s Nate.

He’s in jeans and a dark long-sleeve shirt that somehow looks custom tailored despite being casual. His hair’s still damp like he just showered post-practice, and he holds up a tiny plastic bag with foam earplugs inside.

“Neighborly supply drop,” he says, with that crooked smile. “Heard your roommate’s pregame hype music yesterday through the walls. Figured you could use reinforcements.”

I blink, surprised. “You came to deliver earplugs?”

“And check if you made it through the post-game hangover.”

I laugh. “I wasn’t hungover.”

He tilts his head. “Did you at least enjoy the game?”

“It was great. Intense. Loud. Fast-paced. Kira was salivating over your entire roster, by the way.”

He chuckles. “She’s got taste.”

“I had to remind her we were at a hockey game, not a Chippendale show.”

“Well, tell her she’s always welcome back. She probably had more fun than some of the season ticket holders.”

I shake my head, grinning. “That's for sure!"

He leans casually against the doorframe. “And for the record, I did see you in the crowd. You looked like you were having a good time. Cheering hard.”

I shrug. “I mean, I did what I could.”

"It was much appreciated." He glances down the hallway, then back. “Well, if you need silence to survive studying, those should help.”

I take the bag from him, our fingers brushing. “Thanks. They’ll go right next to the caffeine stash.”

Nate hesitates like he’s about to say more.

“You played well,” I add before he can speak.

His eyes meet mine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked sharp and made some really great plays.”

A pause, and then that smile again. “Was trying to impress someone.”

I smirk. “Please don’t say Kira.”

“Only if she comes with a huge fan crowd,” he says jokingly. Then after a beat, he adds more quietly, “Though between us, some people are harder to impress, and a lot more fun to try.”