“You’re him,” I said, barely containing it. “My number twelve.”
Danny smiled. “Uh, I remember it beingmynumber twelve.”
“Every game. I don’t wear any other jersey,” I said. “Your first goal was four minutes into your debut with The Surge. Top left corner after a breathtaking recovery on the crease. That defender was way out of line though. Had it coming.”
His laughter boomed so hard it drew looks from others. “People forget that part. I had to fight for my life to win back the puck, never mind finding my balance to go on and score.”
“I don’t forget anything,” I said.
The guys traded looks, something unspoken passing between them. Landon shook his head again. “You’re unreal.”
We moved as a loose group for a while, stories overlapping, laughter filling the gaps. When Landon finally steered us away, my cheeks ached from smiling.
“You realize,” he said, lowering his voice as we paused near the balcony, city lights visible through tall windows, “you just made half the room jealous.”
“Of you,” I said.
“Of me knowing you,” he corrected.
The band shifted into something slower, the dance floor filling again. Landon held out his hand. “Dance.”
“I don’t know. I’m not great. I can recite stats and numbers, but moving to music…”
“I’m not great either,” he said. “That’s the point.”
We moved together without choreography, bodies adjusting naturally. His hand rested at my waist, respectful and warm. I could feel his attention sharpen, the easy charm giving way to something more focused.
“You should come to trivia night.” The words dropped casually, like an afterthought.
“What?”
“You’d destroy it,” he said. “The prize is a limited anniversary jersey.”
My grip on his shoulder tightened. “Are you for real?”
“As real as they come.”
“How limited?”
“A handful, is what I heard,” he said. “Custom design that won’t ever happen again.”
I laughed, excitement breaking through restraint. “I’m in.”
“Good,” he said. “I want front row seats.”
The night blurred into a sequence of introductions and moments I wanted to hold onto. Grayson cracked jokes. Mason traded a handshake for a kiss to the back of my hand instead, earning a pointed glare from Landon. Hunter kept plying me with sparkling wine, insisting I become best friends with Holly, and Mason’s girlfriend, Cass.
At some point, I realized my disappointment from earlier had vanished completely, replaced by something bright and full. Landon stayed close without crowding, his attention steady.
As the night wound down, he walked me toward the balcony, music fading behind us.
“Best Valentine’s,” I said, meaning it.
He smiled. “Glad I could be of service.”
Outside, cool air wrapped around us, the city humming softly. I looked back once, taking in the glow of the venue, the history suspended inside.
Landon watched me, expression unreadable, then reached out, squeezing my hand. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”
