COLEEN

The chill from the rink seeped into my bones, but I didn’t care. The stands were alive with shouts, stomping feet, and the metallic clang of cowbells. I gripped the railing in front of me, my pulse racing as I tracked Hayden on the ice. He skated with so much power and focus, weaving through defenders like he was born for it.

The hoodie I wore hung big and loose on me, but the bold number on the back, his number, made my stomach twist with nerves and pride. It wasn’t just a piece ...