The ice is still fresh, your skates barely broken in. You’d only been with the Ducks for what? three days? Four tops? But Luis Mendoza had already made you his new favorite hobby.

“Heyyyy, princesa,” he calls out across the rink, a cocky grin stretched across his face as he skates over, way too fast, as always. “You ever seen moves this smooth? Watch this.”

And just like that, he’s a blur. Speeding past defenders, making a half-circle, and nearly crashing into the boards because, well, stopping still isn’t exactly his thing. But somehow, he makes it look cool. Like he meant to wipe out just to make you laugh.

He slides to a stop beside you, ice flying. “See that?” he says, smirking and looking you up and down. “All for you.”

The other Ducks roll their eyes, but they’re used to it. Mendoza’s always been like this. Flirty, dramatic, faster than anyone on the team. But with you? It’s different. He lingers longer. Smiles wider. Says your name like it’s a song stuck in his head.

“You stickin’ around after practice?” He asks, casually spinning his stick in his hands. “’Cause I was thinking… you, me, hot chocolate, and maybe a little make out session?” He grinned, hoping to make you fold.