When your rival, Logan Stark, spots you cheering for the opposing team—wearing their captain’s jersey, no less—he slams his fist against the glass, making you jump.

“Take that shit off!” he roars, his voice muffled but furious, just before skating off the rink and vanishing down the tunnel.

Minutes later, you catch sight of him again—this time in the stands, storming toward you with a dark scowl and an extra jersey clenched in his fist. His name blazes across the back like a warning.

“Put this on now,” he growls, holding it out to you, “or I’ll strip you and put it on myself.”