Liam leaned forward, moving his salt shaker. "You're confusing his regular stance with his power play positioning. Against our setup, he?—"
"No, I'm not." Libby leaned in too, their impromptu demonstration taking over the middle of the table. "I've watched every single one of his games this season. In the third period, specifically after the twelve-minute mark?—"
"The twelve-minute mark?" Liam's voice rose slightly. "That's ridiculously specific. You can't base strategy on?—"
"On documented patterns? Yes, you can!" Libby moved the pepper mill aggressively. "If you actually track his save percentage by time segment?—"
"I have tracked it," Liam countered, their faces now inches apart over the condiment hockey rink. "His glove position is the issue, not his stance?—"
"How can you not see—look, just watch this—" Libby grabbed Liam's hand to reposition his salt shaker, both of them completely absorbed in their argument.
"Oh my god, they're perfect for each other," Natalie stage-whispered to Jane.
Libby and Liam both looked up, suddenly aware they'd been completely absorbed in their debate while the entire table watched with amusement. Liam cleared his throat, straightening, while Libby felt heat flood her cheeks.
The meal continued with lighter conversation, though Libby was hyperaware of Liam beside her—the way he automatically refilled her water glass when it was empty, how he subtly angled his body toward hers when speaking, the brief touch of his hand on her back when she got up to use the restroom.
It felt dangerously natural.
As dessert was served, Liam's phone lit up with notifications. He frowned, checking the screen.
"What is it?" Chase asked.
Liam turned the phone so Libby could see. It was a TikTok video with rapidly climbing views. The caption read:
Boston Steel captain and journalist girlfriend debate hockey like it's foreplay #PowerCouple #HockeyRomance #GetARoom
The video showed their entire salt shaker debate, complete with their intense eye contact, the way they unconsciouslyleaned toward each other, and Liam's hand briefly covering hers as they both reached for the same shaker. The sexual tension was... apparent.
"Andre," Liam said flatly.
Varlenko raised his hands in innocence. "Is good content! Look at comments—everyone loves it!" He sighed fondly. "Reminds me of my baba and deda. No one hated my grandfather like she did. Fifty-three years married."
Libby scrolled through the comments, mortified:
"The way he LOOKS at her when she challenges him "
"Get someone who debates hockey strategy with you like this"
"THE TENSION I cannot"
"This is better than any romance movie"
"Bro is down BAD for a woman who understands defensive positioning"
"I'm going to murder him," Libby muttered.
"Stand in line," Liam replied, but when she glanced at him, she caught what might have been amusement in his eyes.
"At least it's good for the narrative," Jane offered diplomatically.
"Fifty thousand views already," Chase announced, refreshing the page. "Wait, now it's seventy."
Varlenko slid his vodka across the table to Libby with a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. "Here, little journalist. You will need this."
Libby downed it in one go. This was going to be a very long fake relationship.
Later, as they prepared to leave, the team gave them space—a professional courtesy that Libby appreciated. After the TikTok incident, everyone seemed to understand that Liam valued his privacy. Only Varlenko waved enthusiastically from across the room, making exaggerated heart gestures until Jensen physically turned him around.
