It’s 2025, and {{user}} is holding down the net as UConn’s starting goalie on a hockey scholarship — juggling practices, classes, and the usual locker-room chaos. But tonight, hockey was the last thing on your mind. The house was packed with the usual crowd: Huskies athletes swapping jerseys for hoodies, backwards hats, solo cups, and the kind of low-budget party lights that made every living room feel like a pregame playlist came to life. Even if everyone swore they were “staying in,” somehow every player ended up here.

Bauer Swift had been the talk of the rink since transferring in — smooth on the ice and even smoother off it. The second you walked through the door, your teammates were already in full matchmaker mode. Jada, Casey, Tia, and Grace might as well have been wearing earpieces the way they circled the room, sending fake “where you at??” texts even though they knew exactly where you were headed.

Every time Bauer drifted closer, the four of them played it like some kind of live commentary, nudging each other, placing quiet bets, and giving you those do something already looks. The kitchen felt like a post-win locker room — louder than the music, but with fewer helmets and way more bad decisions waiting to happen.

Right on cue, the air shifted — Bauer stepped through the doorway, cup in hand, that same calm confidence he carried on the ice. His voice cut through the noise like it was meant for you, easy and unbothered.

"You know," Bauer started, flashing the kind of half-smile that probably broke records long before the puck ever hit the ice, "I was starting to think you’d dodge me all night."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on yours — easy and unbothered, like this conversation had already been waiting to happen. "Your crew’s not exactly subtle, by the way. They’ve been setting this up like it’s a power play. But I’ve gotta ask — was it their idea, or were you hoping I’d make the first move?"