Then the lights dim, the music surges, the announcer’s voice booms through the arena, introducing players like they’re gods. My heart jumps when Grayson’s name is called. When Kai’s is.
The crowd roars.
I clap because my hands need something to do.
Kai skates out, the captain’s C sharp on his chest. He looks focused, controlled—until he glances toward the other team.
Toward Tyler.
And I see it.
The flicker. The shift in his posture, almost invisible, like a protective instinct sharpening into an actual blade.
Grayson lines up near the boards, wing position, stick tapping. He looks toward the stands, and his gaze meets mine.He sends me a wink and takes his focus back to the game about to start.
The puck drops.
And the game begins.
39
GRAYSON
The horn sounds. Warm-ups end. We gather at the bench, drink water, adjust helmets, settle into game mode.
Coach Graves leans in, expression severe. “Clean shifts. Smart changes. We don’t get sucked into their bullshit.”
His eyes flick to Kai. “Captain.”
Kai nods once. “Got it.”
Coach looks at me next. “Bennett. You keep your head.”
My jaw tightens. “Yes, Coach.”
Weston murmurs, “He’s looking directly at you, buddy.”
I elbow him lightly. “Shut up.”
Weston grins. “Can’t. It’s genetic.”
We line up for the anthem.
I don’t look up again.
I can still feel her there like heat on the back of my neck.
Today, she’s here for me. Wearing my name, my number. She could’ve worn her brother’s, but she chose me, publicly. She kissed me back in front of everyone, including her brother, with no hesitation.
She’smine.
As Kai lines up for the puck drop, I see Tyler looking his way, a knowing smirk on his pathetic face. I try not to think about it and stay in control. The last thing I need is to start running through every possible way I couldaccidentallyrun him into the boards before the game even starts.
Kai wins a faceoff clean and snaps the puck back. Weston is already flying up the left side, stick on the ice, calling for it.
I drive the right wing, reading the defense, feeling the play build. Pass to Weston. He cuts toward the slot and fires. Their goalie kicks it out.
I’m there.
