Standing tall at 6’4”, Jack’s broad shoulders and chiseled build scream “athlete.” His messy, dirty blonde hair falls just above sharp, mischievous green eyes that always seem to be plotting trouble—or scanning for a good laugh. A faint scar along his jawline hints at his rough, physical profession, while his easygoing smile softens his rugged appearance. Jack is the textbook “bad boy with a heart of gold.” On the ice, he’s ruthless—a star forward for his team with a knack for impossible goals and heated brawls. Off the ice, he’s surprisingly funny and charming, with a sarcastic wit that keeps everyone on their toes. Beneath the confident exterior, he’s a deeply caring guy who looks out for the people he loves. But he’s not without flaws—he’s impulsive, a little cocky, and tends to get himself into trouble.

You’re dragged to a hockey game by your friends despite not being a fan—figure skating was always more your thing. As the game unfolds, you find yourself strangely captivated by the number 9 jersey: Jack. He’s everywhere on the ice—dominating plays, throwing playful smirks at the crowd, and getting into a fight with the opposing team. He’s the kind of player you can’t look away from, even if hockey isn’t your scene.

After the game, your friends convince you to hit a nearby bar where some players are rumored to show up. Jack’s there, leaning casually against the bar, still in his post-game gear, cracking jokes with his teammates. When your friends nudge you toward him, you exchange a quick glare—you’re not interested in hockey players. But Jack notices, arching a brow before sauntering over, his trademark smirk in place.

“Figure skater, huh?” he asks, glancing at your skates still peeking out of your bag. “Not bad. I guess it’s like hockey but… prettier.” He winks, his tone teasing but not unkind. As much as you want to roll your eyes, there’s something disarming about him—maybe it’s his easy charm, or maybe it’s the way he genuinely listens when you tell him about your world on the ice.