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His eyes land on me and they soften, and all the noise from the shouting fans is drowned out. I stand and give him a hug. His palm settles my waist like it’s the most natural place for it to be. He leans in and brushes a quick kiss against my cheek—just enough to make my pulse flutter.

“Casper,” I say, a little too eager. “This is Micky, my sister-in-law. Micky, this is Casper.”

That’s when I notice the folded poster board at his side. He transfers it to his nondominant hand and reaches across me to shake Micky’s hand.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Casper supplies, and my stomach flips. That’s the first time I’ve heard him say it, and I love that he’s confident enough to take the title without asking.

“Finally,” Micky says. “I’ve seen you at Black Rabbit, but glad to formally meet you.”

We take our seats and Micky leans in. “Well done.”

I clear my throat and watch the ice; Rhys finishes up another shift and returns to the player bench just to our right, shoulders hunched as sweat drips from his face. He rips off one of his gloves with his teeth and takes a swig from his water bottle.

I crane my neck to get a better look at him through the glass; our sibling ESP must be aligned because he leans forward, looking left, around the other players on the bench, and across the row of seats to where I’m sitting.

Casper leans in, blocking me, and waves at him enthusiastically, as if to say Surprise!

Before I can stop him, he flips the sign open facing Rhys. I grab the edge and tip it back just enough to read what it says. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

#5 IS HOT, BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIS SISTER?!

Casper drops back into his seat, clearing my view, and I catch Rhys laughing from the bench, after he raises an eyebrow at me.

“He tolerates me. That’s a good sign, right?” Casper asks.

“It’s . . . something,” I say, straightening my spine, and Casper threads our fingers together.

He relaxes his shoulders and I don’t take the small gesture for granted. He’s comfortable here, with us.

After the game, the arena shifts into a different kind of chaos and we stay where we’re at. Glass seats mean we’ll be the last people in our section to make it out of here. We’ve got time. Eventually enough fans filter out, taking with them the exuberant energy after a win.

Near the top, Micky leads us through the maze of hallways and security clearances; she knows her way around this place like she lives here. In a way, she probably does. Eventually we find ourselves posted down the hall from the locker room.

I bounce on my heels, nerves creeping back in. I spent the last period of the game imagining all the scenarios of telling Rhys that Casper and I are dating. I should have texted him. Why didn’t I give him a heads-up? If he reacts poorly and he makes Casper feel anything even adjacent to rejection, I’m going to be really disappointed. I don’t think that will happen, but my thoughts have been reeling.

“You’re fidgeting,” Casper murmurs, amusement lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Micky confirms.

I drop my heels to the floor in a poor attempt to prove them wrong.

“You going to introduce me as your boyfriend this time?”

“Maybe.”

“If you don’t, it’s going to be really awkward when I introduce you to your brother as my girlfriend.”

It gets a laugh out of me and calms some of my anxious energy.

“It’s Rhys—he loves you. You don’t need to prove yourself to him,” Micky says.

“I know.” But I want to. I want Rhys to see me like this. Stable. I want him to see that I’m building a life for myself, one that I’m happy and healthy in.

Before I can continue that thought, the doors lurch open and players step out in their suits—and then Rhys.

“Hey,” he says, completely ignoring Casper and Micky when he closes in on a hug. “You made it.”