Nancy lifts hers last. “To you not going to catch feelings for a Nashville Outlaw that the entire city is obsessed with.”
I smile like I’m unbothered.
“I’m not catching anything,” I say.
But my phone buzzes again. It's another notification, another countdown, another reminder that this is no longer hypothetical.
And I swear, just for a second, it feels like the universe is grinning.
I don’t look down.
I’m in control.
Planned.
Contained.
Right?
Chapter four
Colby
“Short shifts,” Coach Hale snaps, voice cutting through the noise. “Smart changes. We don’t get cute in a day game.”
“Define cute,” Dex says from somewhere to my left. “Because I feel like my whole brand is cute.”
Coach doesn’t even look at him. “Your brand is exhausting.”
A few guys laugh. Someone taps a stick against the boards.
I lean forward on the bench, elbows on my knees, eyes on the ice. “First line, be ready,” I say. “They’re going to come out fast.”
Dex grins at me. “See? Captain agrees. Fire drill early.”
“Contained,” I say.
The horn blares. The puck drops.
The puck is already loose when I get there.
My body reacts on instinct. My head locks onto the pace.
White ice. Bright lights. A roar that rattles through my cage and into my teeth.
Day game.
It’s different. Brighter. Cleaner. Like someone turned the saturation up on the whole arena.
Less Friday-night feral, more families in the stands. Kids in mini jerseys pounding on the glass. Parents holding beers like they’re trying not to be tempted. An old guy a few rows back screaming at the refs like it’s his part-time job.
I like day games.
They feel honest.
The puck rims around the boards and pops loose near the circle. I step into the lane without thinking, stick down, body angled. Their winger hesitates for half a second.
That’s all I need.
