THE CAPTAIN'S FAKE GIRLFRIEND
He snapped a wrist shot into the top corner of the net so hard the black puck rattled violently inside the twine.
Ethan slammed his stick against the plexiglass in celebration, cheering.
Damon coasted backward, turning toward the stands to wipe sweat from his brow with his glove. His dark eyes scanned the perimeter until they locked onto me standing by the tunnel.
Even from fifty feet away across a crowded ice rink, I saw his entire demeanor shift. The ruthless, cutthroat captain melted away. A tiny, quiet smile touched his lips—a private, subtle look meant entirely for me.
My betraying heart gave a sudden, painful flutter. I couldn't help it. I smiled back.