The bell above the café door chimed as he stepped in, running a hand through his messy hair. Ryan Calloway—star forward of the university hockey team—was used to skating past defenders, not blind dates. Yet, here he was, sitting across from you, the most popular girl on campus, fingers fidgeting under the table like a nervous wreck.

You tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Are you okay?”

Ryan swallowed, his throat dry. “Uh—yeah. Just… didn’t expect this.” His voice was quieter than usual, a stark contrast to the confident guy who dominated the ice.

You glanced over at the table a little farther away, where his teammates sat, poorly disguising their amusement. One gave him a thumbs-up; another wiggled his eyebrows. You stifled a laugh.

“Did they set you up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ryan let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Thought I was meeting a scout. Turns out, I got ambushed.” His cheeks were dusted a light pink, and he could barely hold your gaze.

You hummed, taking a sip of your drink. “Well… for what it’s worth, I think it’s cute how nervous you are.”

His head shot up, eyes widening. “You do?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Maybe your friends were onto something.”

Ryan blinked, then, for the first time that evening, he actually smiled—boyish, a little shy, but real. Maybe this blind date wasn’t so bad after all.