When the final buzzer went, the Surge were ahead 3–2. The horn blared, players raised sticks to the fans, and I stood with everyone else, clapping until my hands burned.
Down on the ice, Hunter turned toward the tunnel. He pulled off his helmet, running a hand through his damp hair, the dark curls at his nape sticking to his neck. He looked tired but alive, like someone who’d just fought a small war and won.
I hesitated before heading down. My laminated badge let me through the restricted walkway behind the bench, and the roar of the arena faded into echoes. The smell shifted too. Now less beer and popcorn, more sweat, tape, and cold air from the ice still clinging to the players as they filed in.
The post-game tunnel was chaos. Fans and kids pressed up against barriers, shouting names, waving signs. Security tried to keep a lane open for the team, but bodies leaned in, arms stretched, phones held high for selfies. I hugged the wall, trying to keep out of the way while still scanning for Hunter.
He was somewhere in the middle of the group, helmet dangling from his glove, head bent as he spoke to Mason. A little boy reached out with a jersey and Hunter stopped long enough to scrawl his name across the back, his smile soft even from here.
That was new too. Not long ago he’d have brushed by, letting the others handle anything that faced a crowd. Now he crouched to talk to the kid, asking his name. I felt the pinch of something warm in my chest and immediately shut it down.
I needed to get a grip, and fast.
I moved toward the locker room entrance, my pass ready to flash at the guard. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Nothing more than a flash of a face I recognized from somewhere. Once she came into full view, it hit me. Sun in Capri, IG feed full of bougie meals and sensuous selfies. She was the one who’d sent Hunter thatsuggestive DM. And now she was here, all glossy hair and influencer-perfect makeup. My stomach sank. There was no delete button in real life.
The crowd around the tunnel swelled, fans pressing closer as the players neared the doors. Security shouted for people to back up. I stayed close to the threshold, eyes on Hunter but my attention sliding, calculating.
Not now, I thought. Not after everything.
The guard waved me through and I slipped inside the restricted area, heart thumping harder than it should. Hunter was only a few strides behind, still shaking hands with fans. The influencer maneuvered closer, eyes locked on him as she edged toward the locker room.
“Excuse me,” I said, stepping into her path, my voice calm but carrying enough authority to make her turn and look at me. “You’re not authorized to be here.”
She froze for a moment, then smiled, too confident for someone who clearly hadn’t expected resistance. “Relax, lady. We’re all friends here, right?”
“Friends don’t sneak into locker rooms,” I said, blocking entry with an outstretched arm. “Especially when they’re not allowed.”
“Come on,” she said, voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Whatever happened to women supporting women? I have a surprise for Hunter.”
She wiggled her brows, and called my attention to the zipper of her hoodie. It was only a flash, quickly down and back up before anyone around us could notice. But it was long enough for me to see she wore absolutely nothing underneath. Then she had the audacity to wink at me.
“You need to leave now, or I’m calling security.”
“Ugh, are you his bodyguard too?” she grumbled, then something shifted in her eyes and she stared harder. “Or are the rumors true?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my irritation in check. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, to set her straight. Instead, I waved one of the security guards over.
“Have it your way,” I said, not holding back my satisfied smile.
Her own faltered. “Security? Seriously? You’re that jealous about Hunter getting lucky more than once in one night?”
I could already feel my fingers tightening around her scrawny little neck, but it stayed a fantasy. Because Hunter chose that moment to show up at the locker room door, hair damp from the ice, his jersey half peeled down. His eyes flicked between me and her, brows knitting.
“What’s going on?” His voice was low, a warning. “Holly?”
The girl’s demeanor shifted instantly, eyes going wide with faux-innocence. “You never replied to my DMs,” she purred. “So I thought I’d pay you a visit in person.”
She started to move toward him, hand outstretched as if she could just slip past me. But I stepped between them before she could touch him, palm flat against her shoulder.
“You’re done here.” My tone made a couple of nearby staffers glance over. “Security!” I called, louder this time, and two guards hustled over.
The girl twisted under my hand, suddenly less sweet and more feral. “Wow,” she spat, glaring at me. “So the rumors are true then.”
“What rumors?” Hunter asked, studying my face as if the answer would be there somewhere.
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, stepping aside just enough to steer him back toward the locker room. “Go get changed. Security’s handling it.”
He resisted the push, his arm firm under my hand. “Holly—”
