Garrett watches from the crease—the play he’ll remember all night.
The Storm get greedy. A defenseman pinches up too far, trying to pressure Jesse at the blue line.
Jesse flips a quick, smart pass off the boards.
It bounces once.
Right to Tilly.
He catches it on his stick and takes off like a missile, blowing past the one man back. The arena rises like a wave. Garrett holds his breath.
It’s not pretty. It’s not smooth. Tilly’s not the guy who usually finishes.
But he’s got speed, and he’s got space, and when he winds up, Garrett already knows?—
Goal.
Top shelf. Water bottle pops.
The horn blasts like a thunderclap and the crowd erupts.
Garrett doesn’t throw his gloves. Doesn’t pump his fist. He stands still for a moment in the crease, chest heaving. His body’s buzzing with adrenaline. The team pours onto the ice, mobbing Tilly until he disappears under a pile of jerseys.
Good for him,Garrett thinks. Stay-at-home defensemen rarely get that kind of glory.
He taps his stick against the post once, twice, then straightens and skates toward the celebration.
He played sharp when it counted.
And he didn’t think about her.
Not really.
Not until now, anyway.
CHAPTER 7
NAOMI
Naomi is smiling.
It’s a brittle, polite smile. The kind you might carve into a Jack-o’-lantern if you were aiming for “definitely fine, not internally screaming.”
“Just along that wall,” she says to the AV guy, nodding toward the pre-approved setup area. “We’ve got six players rotating through for individual shots and then a group setup after that.”
The man named Brad, or Chad, or one of those names, doesn’t move. He’s too busy staring directly at her chest.
She crosses her arms. “The backdrop goes there,” she says, sharper this time. “You have about twenty minutes to load in and run a test shot before the players get here.”
BradChad finally nods, slow like it takes effort. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
Naomi bites back the urge to roll her eyes.
She pivots to grab the cases of gear from the loading area before she says something that turns this into a legal situation. Mila had hired this crew through a vendor she didn’t know—last-minutereplacement after their first choice flaked—and so far the experience ranked just above an airport security pat-down.
Five minutes later, she’s hauling two cases of equipment across the concrete like an angry bellhop.
