Mira's heart hadn't stopped racing since the final horn. The red light. The roar of the stands. She'd been on her feet from the second Neil hit the ice for that last play, screaming his name until her voice went rough.

He found her before she found him. Across the whole rink, past his teammates piling on top of him, his eyes went straight to her. He always knew exactly where she'd be.

The celebration blurred past her — the hugs, the trophy lifted overhead, the interviews where he kept glancing toward the stands like he couldn't stay in the moment. Like he was thinking of her, the way she kept thinking about him.

She should have gone home. Waited for his text, like always.

She didn't.

She slipped past a door marked STAFF ONLY. Heart hammering harder than it had all game, she found her way to the locker rooms. She didn't have a plan. Just one thought, I need to see him. Now.

The shower room buzzed with noise — voices, running water, a radio somewhere down the hall. She ducked behind the nearest shelf, one that barely reached her waist, and crouched low, so that it would hide her from the other players. She adjusted her sweater, and ran her fingers through her hair to look less crazy. She knew she looked a mess. She didn't care.

Then, he entered.

As always, his dark gaze, landed directly on her, finding her amidst all the chaos like thier souls had a special connection. Thier gazes locked and her stomach dropped.

He called out to his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead. I'm taking a long shower. I'll catch up with you all later."

Mira couldn'tcontain her grin and her finger flew to her lips,"Shh!"

Whatever tiredness had been on his face a second ago vanished. He crossed the space between them in two steps. Before she could process it, his hand closed around her wrist, and she was pulled — stumbling, breathless — into the nearest shower stall.

She gasped. His palm covered her mouth before the sound could finish leaving her throat. He shut the stalldoor and pressed her back against it. His body crowded into hers, close enough that she could feel his heart hammering. From the game, ofcourse.

Her eyes went wide. She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation — but he offered none. His dark eyes, hungry for something she could not name, stared into her soul, making her feel exposed, raw.

"Mai hath hata raha hu, don't you dare scream…" (I'm removing my hand, don't you dare scream) he murmured, low, right against her ear.

.

The second his palm lifted, she sucked in a breath to scream, because he asked her not to. That'll show him not to order her around. His hand slammed back over her mouth, harder this time.

"Have you gone mad! They'll hear us!"

She could hear his teammates laughing just beyond the wall. Close. Too close.

Mira, you idiot!

Thsnkgod Neil knew her good to predict what she would do. They could absolutely not be discovered like this. She knew exactly how this would look. Pressed together in a locked stall, his hand over her mouth. They were just friends, have been since forever, but that didn'tstop the rumours. Last thing she wanted was to fuel the rumour mill.

"I'm removing my palm. And if you scream again… I'll stuff your mouth with something to keep you quiet."

Her overactive imagination provided her with what exactly would shut her up. The thought sent heat straight up her neck. Her ears went hot. She nodded, small and fast, not trusting her own voice.

His hand slid from her mouth to her waist instead, warm and sure. She stayed still.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I couldn't wait." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "I needed to see you. You were so good! Just amazing down there! I was cheering the whole time!" She caught herself, softer now. "And I needed to see if you were okay. You took a fall, right at the end na…"

Something shifted in his face. Soft. Almost stunned — like her worry had hit him harder than anything on the ground.

"Oh, my little wallflower." His voice dropped, rough at the edges. "I'm perfectly fine. Just scratched my hand a bit."

"Lemme see it."

He hesitated before leaning back, just enough to bring his hand up to her face. She missed the warmth of his hot breath on her forehead, like it was the only thing keeping her warm.

But he was still close enough that the scratch on his forearm looked like the end of the world. Her chest ached, because she knew how little care he put in for himself.

"Neil, you should go get this treated. It looks painful."

"No. It looks worse than it is, I swear. If you're so worried about my hand," he said, "why don't you treat it?"

"Huh?" She knew his tone carried that particular lightness with which he delivered all his teasing remarks.

"Give it a kiss. Everything gets better with a kiss." He said it lightly but she saw the way his pupils dilated. Heat rushed up her cheeks, all the way to her ears.

Neil flirted with everyone. He was just so ridiculously charming that even a joke sounded like an invite. Mira knew that he meant it as a joke, but like a puppeteer was pulling her strings, her hands, shaking only a little, closed around his. Her heart hammered in her chest. She brought her lips to the scratch on his skin, slow and careful, like she could actually heal it if she was gentle enough.

His breath caught. She felt the small hitch in him under her mouth, and something bold and unfamiliar bloomed in her chest, knowing she'd done that to him.

"Feeling better now?" she asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him. She almost laughed it off, to hop back into their comfort zone. But the look on his face stopped her.

He looked awestuck. "No. I need another." His tone contained none of the lightness. He sounded pleading, wrecked. He meant it.

So she kissed him again, just above the scratch. Then again, trailing down to his palm, then his fingertips, slow enough to feel him watching every single one.

He traced her lips with his thumb, so lightly it barely counted as touch. Igniting every nerve on fire. She felt his thumb press, just barely, and her lips fell open. She wondered if he would push it inside. She wondered would she lick it, suck it, if he did.

"Enough?" she asked when he remained frozen.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing?" He growled.

The words hit her like a slap she deserved. Mira's stomach dropped straight through the floor.

"No… I… I'm sorry…" The apology came out in pieces, barely more than a whisper. She couldn't look at him. She fixed her eyes on the floor instead, on the strip of tile between his shoes and hers, because looking up felt like more than she could survive right now. She had misunderstood, and now thier friendship was ruined forever.

He caught her chin between two fingers and tilted her face up. "Look at me."

She did. Barely. Her heart was going so fast she could feel it in her throat. Holding his gaze felt like staring straight into a dark abyss.

"Tell me to stop."

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She meant to say something, but all she managed was a small, helpless shake of her head.

That was enough for him. Time slowed as he leaned into her, like still waiting for a 'No'. But her heart had said 'Yes' long before today. Even if she did not know it yet.

He kissed her slow and careful, like something in him had been holding back for a long time. She didn't pull away. Her hands had already found the front of his jersey, fisting into the fabric because she needed something to hold on to. She kissed back, eagerly, because she needed some proof this was actually happening.

A small, startled sound slipped out of her against his mouth. She hadn't meant to make it. It came from somewhere she'd never had a reason to visit before.

He pressed her back against the door, his whole body pressing, engulfing hers. One hand braced beside her head, the other sliding into her hair to tilt her exactly where he wanted her.

She had no idea what to do. She kissed him back anyway. Clumsy, unsure, terrified she was doing it wrong, terrified he could tell. She didn't know where her hands belonged. She didn't know how much of herself she was allowed to give him. But some part of her, some part that had never once been brave, decided it didn't matter, and kissed him again.

"Easy," he murmured against her mouth, when her breath came too fast to hide. "I've got you."

Those three words undid her more than anything his mouth was doing. She melted into him, and for the first time all night, she stopped being afraid of getting this wrong.

When he finally pulled back, she felt dazed, her lips still tingling. Her body still needed more.