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But then there’s Lucinda, still batting her lashes and taking credit for every mystery in my life—like she’s the one who’s got my number. She’s the queen bee of the Boosters now, always up in my business, so maybe that’s it. Maybe she’s just thesmoke screen for Madeline, Harper, and Pru—those three could organize a heist at the Vatican if you handed them matching sweatshirts. It’s got to be them, right?

I shoot the puck into the boards harder than I mean to.

“Easy,” Heath says, gliding up beside me. “We’re warming up, not auditioning forFast and the Furious: Ice Edition.”

I grunt and go again. Around the cones. Through the drill. But I keep glancing at the stands, like Joely might magically appear with her hair pulled back and that knowing look that says she already figured out the thing I’m still pretending not to know.

“Head not in the game today, Bro?” Bennett’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He’s skating backward like an asshole, casual as hell, like he’s not about to roast me in front of everyone.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.” He leans in a little. “So… who is she?”

I stop hard. “Who?”

“The girl who’s got you missing open shots and looking like someone just ran over your dog.”

“I’m not missing anything, andwedon’t have a dog.”

Bennett cocks a brow, then nods toward Coach Duff. “Tell that to the guy who just wrote your ass down on the clipboard.”

I glance over and, yep. Coach has that look. The “I expected more out of you and also you might want to do extra suicides later” look.

Until you puke.

“Shit.”

Bennett claps me on the shoulder. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying… whoever it is, maybe think about talking to her. Or kissing her. Or licking her pussy better. Or figuring out why the hell she’s spray-painting your name in twenty-degree weather.”

I glare at him. “I didn’t say it was Joely. I don’t think it’s her.”

He smirks. “Why can’t it be her?”

I skate off before he can say more, but the damage is done.

Now I’m thinking about her lips. Her hands. The way she said my name like it mattered. And how Ifeltwhen I saw that sign—before the jokes, before Virgil almost had a stroke.

It felt… good.

Wanted. Seen.

And I have no idea what the hell to do with that.

As I stomp away, I catch Gage muttering to Heath, “He’s so gone for her.”

Heath just nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s why it’s so fun to fuck with him.”

I yank off my helmet the second I hit the tunnel, my hair damp and sweat clinging to the back of my neck. Morning skate’s over, and I feel like I’ve been dodging flying pucksandemotional landmines for the last hour.

Shep follows me in, flinging his gloves toward his locker. “Okay, but for real—who do we think the sign vigilante is?”

Bennett’s already untying his skates with methodical precision. “It’s Joely.”

I freeze, mid-pull on my own laces. “You don’tknowthat.”

Shep lifts a brow. “He didn’t say no.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m tired of your dumbass conspiracy theories. Lucinda, Madeline, Harper, Pru, and freakin’Britt Travers?”