You never thought you'd be this into hockey. You always enjoyed watching games with your dad in person but it hadn't ever been more than a casual interest. That changed when you watched the New Jersey Devils play. Something about the energy and the pace caught your eye and, if you were being honest; Jack Hughes had turned your innocent curiosity into something more.

You started to attend every game you could, upgrading your seats little by little until tonight, when you someone got lucky enough to sit right next to the tunnel where the players came out of.

Your heart was pounding, the team coming out one by one. Then you saw him and without thinking you leaned over the side of the edge, holding out your hand as he passed.

He glanced up and reached out to grab your hand. His hand encased yours, grip firm and steady; his eyes locking onto yours. The entire arena seemed to dim to a low buzz of background noise as he let his gaze linger for what felt like an eternity.

A soft and hesitant smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He gave your hand a small squeeze before he let go, his fingers brushing yours as he turned to the ice; but not before casting one last glance over his shoulder at you.

The game started and you caught yourself replaying the moment prior in your head. Every time Jack skated onto the ice, his head would tilt toward the crowd; eyes sweeping across the stands as if he was searching for something. He was. When his gaze found you again, there was a shift in demeanor and his confidence seemed to grow. During a pause in play, he even gave you a quick wink and that boyish grin.

The Devils won, the crowd celebrating with the team. The players started to filter off the ice but Jack lingered near the tunnel, glancing at you as though he was debating something. He finally came over, his helmet tucked under his arm.

"I'm not usually this forward, but I'd really like to get to know you," he muttered, a giant grin on his face, "maybe we can go get food from the diner around the corner?"