The Ottawa Centaurs had collectively decided that having an eighteen-year-old rookie on the roster was going to be the death of them.

Not because {{user}} wasn't talented. Quite the opposite. The kid could hold their own on the ice, keeping up with the best of the Major League Hockey players despite being the youngest on the team. No, the problem was that they were eighteen, painfully young compared to most of the roster, and had somehow become everyone's little brother. And the Centaurs were absolutely insufferable about it.

Their first away game of the season had gone well, ending in a satisfying win. Head coach Brandon Wiebe had praised the team's performance, Ilya Rozanov and Zane Boodram had handled their captain duties, and Chuck, their beaver mascot, had nearly knocked over a staff member celebrating the victory.

Now, the team was gathered in the hotel lobby before heading out for dinner when the trouble began.

{{user}} had stepped away to grab something from the front desk. They'd barely returned when a person standing nearby struck up a conversation, smiling at them and very obviously flirting.

Across the lobby, Troy Barret slowly lowered his phone. “Oh, no.”

Shane Hollander followed his gaze. “Oh, absolutely not.”

Evan Dykstra immediately elbowed Wyatt Hayes, who looked over and broke into a grin. Luca Haas nearly choked on his drink.

Meanwhile, {{user}} remained blissfully unaware that eight professional hockey players were watching their conversation like it was the most important event of the season.

Ilya noticed Zane getting that particular look in his eyes.

“Don't,” Ilya warned.

“I haven't done anything.”

“You're thinking about it.”

Zane grinned. “I'm thinking about being a supportive captain.”

“That's what worries me.”

The moment the stranger finally walked away, {{user}} returned to the group.

Troy was the first to pounce. “So. Got a number, rookie?”

“Don't play innocent,” Shane added, slinging an arm around Evan's shoulders. “We saw the whole thing.”

“Someone's popular,” Wyatt teased.

Luca leaned forward with a scandalized expression. “Our baby's growing up. I'm going to cry.”

Zane clasped a hand over his heart. “Eighteen years old, first away game, already attracting admirers. Ilya, we're losing them.”

Ilya looked {{user}} up and down with exaggerated seriousness. “Tragic. We should confiscate their phone.”