Page 87 of Wild Card 13

"I had pressure."

"You had nerves."

"I had an idiot yelling at me."

"I was encouraging you."

Mase looked toward us. "You were being dramatic."

I laughed quietly under my breath.

They'd been arguing about that missed shot since they'd stepped off the ice, and neither of them seemed remotely interested in letting it go.

The conversation ended the second Ty noticed us. Or rather...the second he noticed me.

His entire face lit up. Like someone had reached inside him and turned every light on at once. "There she is." The words left his mouth before he'd even fully changed direction.

Without another thought, he broke away from the group entirely.

Mase barely looked surprised. He just shook his head, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Every time," and kept walking.

Ty closed the distance between us in long, easy strides, snow crunching beneath his boots. Halfway there, he let his hockey bag slide from his shoulder. It landed on the pavement with a heavy thud that sent a puff of fresh snow into the air.

He didn't even look at it. His attention never left me.

I barely had time to laugh before both of his arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me just enough that my heels skimmed the snowy pavement for half a heartbeat.

The world shrank instantly. The parking lot. The music. The conversations around us. Everything disappeared beneath the warmth of his embrace.

He kissed me. Quick. Warm. Still tasting faintly of wintergreen gum.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine for the briefest second, both of us laughing softly before either of us said a word. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold.

"So..." he said, smiling against my forehead. "Did you see that goal?"

I stared at him. "You mean the one where you tapped the glass afterward?"

His grin grew impossibly wider. "So you noticed."

"You made it a little difficult to miss."

"Worth it."

"Oh, gross," Arlo groaned loudly behind us. "You two are disgusting."

Ty looked over my shoulder without letting go of me. "You'll survive."

"I might not."

Ty laughed, the sound carrying easily through the cold night air, and finally loosened his hold just enough to sling one arm comfortably across my shoulders instead, pulling me against his side like it was the most natural place in the world for me to be.

Mase caught up a second later, shaking his head with the exhausted patience of someone who'd watched this exact interaction play out a hundred times before. "I miss one pass and this clown won't let me hear the end of it."

"You missed the net," I scoffed. "By inches."

"The whole net, Keller," Ty added, never breaking eye contact with me.

"The goalie was intimidating."