Chris got home right on time, just as he promised.
"Morning," he said as he stepped into the living room, where everyone had gathered—his mom sipping coffee on the couch, Claire's dad reading the paper, and Claire herself scrolling through her phone.
"You made it," his mom said with a smile.
"Of course." Chris rubbed the back of his neck. "The party was fun. Kinda wild, but I actually enjoyed it."
Claire raised a brow at that but didn't say anything.
Chris headed toward his room to change before his usual late-morning training. He peeled off his shirt on the way down the hall, distracted by something on his phone. As he passed Claire, she glanced up—and paused.
There were red marks along his back. Faint but unmistakable.
She didn't say a word, just blinked, looked back down at her phone, and exhaled quietly.
—
Later that afternoon, the girls met up at their usual café downtown—an artsy little place with mismatched chairs, indie music playing softly in the background, and the faint scent of cinnamon and espresso clinging to the air.
Claire arrived last and slid into the booth across from Jade and Amber, who were already halfway through their iced drinks.
"So?" Amber asked, eyes sparkling. "You said you had something juicy."
"Oh, I do," Jade said, resting her chin in her hand with a smug smile. "It all started with Seven Minutes in Heaven..."
Claire rolled her eyes and reached for her drink.
Jade didn't care. "He cornered me in that guest room. Had me pressed against the wall like he couldn't hold back anymore." She sighed dramatically, then grinned. "I might've helped a little with that, though."
Amber let out a low whistle. "And here I thought he was all hockey and no heat."
"Oh, he's got heat," Jade said, licking her lips. "And just like I suspected—when those amber eyes are focused only on you? Whew. Unforgettable."
Amber grinned wider, clearly enjoying every word.
Claire, on the other hand, muttered, "Gross," and looked away.
"Oh come on," Jade teased. "You're not the least bit curious?"
"That's my brother," Claire snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I do not want to hear about his... whatever you two did."
Amber chuckled, stirring her iced latte. "Can't blame her. I'd probably be traumatized too."
Claire crossed her arms, trying not to show how weird the whole thing made her feel. "You two deserve each other."
Jade only smirked.
"So are you two together now or what ?" amber asked cuiously.
"Mhmm, more like friends with benefits. But he made me breakfast, so maybe a little more ?" she winked.
And for the rest of their coffee date, the conversation danced around boys, gossip, and summer plans—but every now and then, Jade's smug little glances at Claire didn't go unnoticed.
The days that followed slipped into a new kind of rhythm.
The summer heat was relentless, the afternoons stretching long and golden, with fans buzzing lazily in every room. Chris stuck to his usual routine—early training, late breakfast, afternoon runs, evening stickhandling drills. But something about it all felt different lately.
It started small.
Jade began showing up at Claire's house more often—sometimes texting ahead, sometimes just showing up at the door with a grin and a cold drink in hand.
"Your house has better air conditioning," she claimed the first time.
Claire just rolled her eyes. "You're only here because my mom actually stocks snacks."
But when Chris came in from training, sweaty and shirtless, Jade's eyes would flick toward him. And unlike before, Chris noticed.
He noticed.
At first, he pretended he didn't. Threw a towel over his shoulders, nodded a quick "hey," and disappeared upstairs. But once or twice, when Jade was lounging on the living room couch, her legs stretched out and her shirt tied just a bit too high, he felt it—her eyes lingering.
And this time, he didn't ignore it.
One afternoon, Claire and Jade were flipping through magazines in the living room when Chris passed through, shirtless and still catching his breath from a home workout. Jade watched him for a second too long.
"Need a towel or something?" she asked casually, twirling a strand of her hair.
Chris didn't answer immediately. He paused, glanced back at her—and for a moment, his eyes didn't drift away.
Claire didn't miss it.
Another time, Jade had come over early, claiming boredom. Chris was practicing wrist shots in the backyard. Claire was in the kitchen. Jade stepped out to the patio under the excuse of "grabbing some sun."
Instead, she leaned against the fence, sipping lemonade and watching Chris move—his arms tense, his shirt already discarded on the grass.
"You're getting better," she said after a while.
Chris didn't look at her, just took another shot. "I've been practicing."
"You still have a long way to go with your balance, though." She smirked. "That last one was wobbly."
Chris shot her a sidelong glance. "Then come show me how it's done."
"Tempting," Jade said, stepping closer. "But I might distract you."
"You already do," Chris muttered—so low he wasn't sure she even heard.
But she smiled, slow and knowing, like she had.
Later that evening, Claire was in her room on a call when Jade came knocking.
"Your mom said I could borrow your nail polish," she said.
Claire waved her in. "Middle drawer."
While Jade browsed, Chris passed by the open doorway on his way to the shower. Jade didn't turn her head—but she tracked his movement in the mirror. She caught the faint reflection of his eyes lingering a second on her bare legs before he vanished from view.
Jade smirked.
Claire ended her call. "Hey, what's so funny?"
"Nothing," Jade said, humming as she opened the bottle. "Just enjoying summer."