I blink at her. Blink at the ice. Blink back at her.
Dom’s sister.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. “Are you serious?”
“Surprise.” She laughs.
The lines switch. The first unit hops the boards, and the second line circles back toward the bench.
Melody nudges me with her elbow. Before I can ask what she means, Jace skates past our section, slowing just enough to look up through the glass.
Grinning, he taps his stick on the boards twice and blows Melody a kiss.
Full-on, shamelessly, right at her. Melody lights up and blows one back with both hands. Jace grins, winks, and skates off.
The air shifts, something like static crawling down my spine, heavy and charged. Dom glides up the boards, powerful and silent, like a storm cloud. His skates cut a clean arc as he slows for a line change, and then his eyes flick upward. Straight to Melody, then straight to me. His gaze is like a physical touch. Embarrassingly hot.
My stomach flips as his gaze holds mine for just a second.
The noise of the crowd fades. All I see are intense eyes burning from behind that visor, locked onto mine.
Dom blinks once, then pushes off and skates toward the faceoff circle, back to war mode.
But not before his gaze cuts back over his shoulder.
Not at Melody.
At me.
Slow. Deliberate.
My pulse stutters, heat crawling up my neck as I swallow hard.
Melody is still smiling, still watching the ice, completely unaware.
I’m not.
Because the way Dom just looked at me?
That wasn’t nothing.
The Blazers win.
The arena is still vibrating with leftover thunder, chants, and the sound of thousands drunk on victory and adrenaline.
My body buzzes too, annoyingly so.
I keep telling myself I am not proud.
I am not impressed.
I am not emotionally invested in the outcome of this man’s sporting event. But Dominic Moreal…
The way he moved tonight? There’s no fighting it. He’s a beast, a force that bent the entire game around him. Watching him dominate the ice did something to me that is both embarrassing and slightly enraging.
Now half the arena has spilled out, but media and players cluster in the tunnel area, lights glaring, cameras flashing, microphones out.
The team’s PR staff buzzes, panicked bees trying to corral everyone for interviews.
