“Why?” I whisper.
“Because I can’t think straight when you do.”
“Good.” I’m still breathless. Still dizzy. “I like when you lose control.”
He laughs quietly, forehead resting against mine. His breath is warm on my face. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
He presses one more quick kiss to the corner of my mouth. Sweet and deliberate. “Keep the nickname.”
“Always, Bruiser.”
He groans, low and tortured. “Say it again.”
“Bruiser.”
He mutters something that sounds a lot like a prayer. Or maybe a promise. I can’t tell which and I don’t care.
Someone wolf-whistles from down the hallway. Probably Finn. Jude doesn’t pull away immediately. Just smiles against my temple before finally stepping back.
“I should shower,” he says. “Actually shower, I mean. Not the quick rinse-off we do after games.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Walk you to your car after?”
“I’d like that.”
He nods once, then heads back toward the locker room. I watch him go, still dizzy from the kiss, still feeling the ghost of his hands on my face.
Finn jogs past, smirking. “Told you he wasn’t all scowl.”
I laugh, cheeks flaming. “Shut up, Travers.”
Ivy and Hadley materialize beside me like they’ve been waiting in the wings.
“So,” Ivy says, drawing out the word. “That happened.”
“That definitely happened,” Hadley agrees.
I touch my fingers to my lips, still tingling. “Yeah. It did.”
Outside, through the rink windows, I can see snow starting to fall. Fat, lazy flakes that catch the parking lot lights and glow.
I pull my scarf tighter and smile.
I came back to Briarwood for music and community. For the familiar comfort of home.
Instead, I found the rhythm in someone else’s heartbeat.
And his nickname is Bruiser.
five
. . .
The whole townfeels brighter after last night’s win.
