Daniel gestures to one of the empty seats in the booth. “Mind if we sit? Logan said this place was on his bucket list. If we knew you were coming, we would’ve tagged along.”
I roll my eyes. Right. It’s a hole-in-the-wall diner with decent fries and the same waitress who’s worked here since my freshman year. Hardly abucket-listspot.
Peter just shrugs, clearly entertained, while Logan slides into the booth across from me like this is all perfectly normal. Daniel drops in beside me, both of them smelling faintly of soap and the rink. Eli drags a chair over to the end of the table, still in his team hoodie.
“Pretty sure you guys didn’t shower,” Eli says with a grin. “You’re making the whole place smell like the locker room.” He wrinkles his nose and leans back.
“Shaw was in a hurry,” Peter says, grinning. “Starving, from working up an appetite shadowing our newbie.” He lifts his brows at Logan. “You’re so fire on that ice you’re gonna melt it, man.”
Logan grins back his stupid dimple popping, unfazed. “Guess I just bring the heat.”
Daniel snorts. “Youbringsomething, all right.”
“Pretty sure that’s what Coach said too,” Logan fires back, eyes cutting toward me. “Said we’re lethal together, right?”
I stabanother fry into the ketchup like I’m murdering it the way I want to murder him. “He saidifwe figure our timing out. Big if.”
“Ouch.” Logan clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me.”
Daniel leans in, smirking. “If we’re talking heat, maybe let us eat before you two start eye-flirting across the table, yeah?”
Eli snorts. “It’s too early in the season for this much chaos.”
“Chaos keeps things interesting,” Daniel fires back, waving down the waitress. “Now order something before Shaw’s fries disappear.”
Eli groans. “Every damn year. New season, same idiots.”
“Tradition,” Peter says, smirking.
I can feel Logan’s gaze on me even while the others are laughing and flipping through their menu. It’s like static under my skin—too aware, too close. I shouldn’t look up, but of course I do.
He’s already watching, that knowing half-smile tugging at his mouth—the one that makes my pulse do something it shouldn’t. His dimple makes an appearance, and I want to lick it off him.
What? No. Not lick it—punchit.
Fuck, he’s messing with my head.
“Small-town diner,” Logan says casually, scanning the menu even though the options are painted on the wall. “Feels like home already.”
Peter’s eyebrows bounce, but mine are locked on him in a death glare that I hope clearly communicatesGo away, go away, go away.
Logan leans back, all easy confidence, one arm stretched across the booth. “Good practice today.”
I grunt something that could pass for agreement.
Daniel picks up the thread immediately, grinning. “Good? That was solid, man. Coach looked like he was gonna propose after that last run.”
“Please,” Eli says, smiling. “Coach proposes to anyone who can skate backward without falling. His standards are underground.”
Logan chuckles, low and warm. “Still, not bad for my first day, huh?”
“Not bad?” Peter laughs, pointing his straw at him. “You two were locked in like you’ve been paired for years.”
“Chemistry,” Daniel says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You can’t fake that.”
I stab another fry, jaw tight. “It’s called coordination.”
“Sure,” Daniel says. “And the way you two look at each other during drills? Totally professional coordination.”
