lando norris.

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oscar piastri.

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max verstappen.

You hadn’t told Dean about your choice of clothing, mostly because you wanted to see his reaction for yourself.

You wanted to watch the exact moment his eyes scanned the crowd between plays and landed on you, his girlfriend, in his oversized jersey.

Alongside you sat Hannah, Garrett Graham’s girlfriend, and Allie, her best friend and roommate. Since Hannah had been dating the team captain for months, she’d quickly become your go-to person for every random hockey question that popped into your head. Despite sometimes being just as lost as you.

When the players finally skated onto the ice, you immediately spotted Dean searching the stands.

His gaze flicked restlessly through the crowd, clearly looking for you.

And then he found you.

His entire face lit up so fast it almost made you laugh. But the expression only lasted a second before confusion pulled at his brows, like he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. His eyes dropping to the oversized white and blue jersey hanging off your frame.

A slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face as he looked you up and down, realization settling in. Even from halfway across the arena, you could see the ego boost hit him in real time.

“Mine?” He mouthed, pointing at himself.

You only nodded, suddenly feeling shy under the intensity of his stare.

“Someone likes what they see,” Allie teased beside you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Guess so,” you grinned, still unable to tear your gaze away from Dean as the team began preparing for puck drop.

The game itself turned out to be a fairly easy win for Briar University. Harvard managed to score first thanks to Jake Connelly in the opening period, but Garrett answered with two goals in the second.

Hannah absolutely lost her mind beside you, cheering so loudly you were pretty sure half the rink could hear her. You laughed and clapped right along with her.

Dean picked up an assist during the second goal, making you cheer loud enough that you were convinced he could pick your voice out from the crowd.

Apparently, he could. Because he then looked straight at you and blew you a kiss through the glass.

By the time the game ended, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

You waited outside the locker rooms with Hannah and Allie while the players showered and changed, the hallway buzzing with post-game energy and scattered conversations.

And then Dean walked out.

Black jeans hugged his legs, and a dark shirt stretched distractingly across his chest and arms. The fabric clung just enough to make your thoughts immediately inappropriate. You barely managed to maintain a shred of dignity.

Barely.

The second he spotted you, you practically launched yourself at him.

Dean caught you easily, laughing as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms slid around his neck. You kissed him hard enough to make a few nearby players groan in annoyance.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered against your mouth.

That earned a loud whoop from Tucker and an immediate, “Get a room!” from Logan.

Neither of you paid them any attention.

“Hi,” you whispered against Dean’s lips, barely pulling away.

“Hi, baby,” he answered, voice rougher than before, damp hair still messy from the shower.

You kissed him one more time before finally letting him lower you back onto your feet.

The moment your sneakers hit the ground, he leaned down close to your ear. “Can I just say,” he murmured, “how hard it was to focus once I saw you wearing my jersey?”

“You like it?” You teased, turning slightly so he could see DI LAURENTIS stretched across your back.

“I love it,” he growled softly.

His hand slid to your lower back, pulling you flush against him before kissing you again, slower this time but somehow even more heated.

“Okay, lovebirds, time to go,” Garrett said, sounding both amused and deeply exhausted by the two of you.

“You’re just jealous,” Dean shot back immediately, sticking his tongue out at the team captain as he kept an arm securely around your waist while you walked beside him.

“I’m not.” As if to prove his point, Garrett leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Hannah Wells’s mouth.

“Ugh, get a room,” Your boyfriend groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes so hard it made you laugh.

“Rich coming from you,” Garrett deadpanned.

You snorted softly, resting your head against Dean’s bicep while the boys continued bickering like overgrown children.

“Malone’s?” Logan asked, already eager to celebrate the win.

“Sure,” Garrett agreed.

“We’ll catch up with you guys later,” Dean said casually, making you lift your head to look at him in confusion.

Tucker immediately shook his head. “You dirty dog.”

“What’s going on?” Hannah asked, glancing between the two of you.

You only shrugged, equally confused for approximately two seconds.

“Gotta take care of something,” Dean then looked down at you. And suddenly you understood exactly what he meant.

“Oh,” you said quietly, trying—and failing—to suppress your smile.

Logan barked out a laugh. “More like take care of someone, right?”

Dean threw him a pointed look that only made the others laugh harder.

“We’ll see you in, like, an hour,” you told them, attempting to sound innocent.

“An hour?” He murmured, his mouth brushing against your ear. “Baby, after seeing you in my jersey tonight, you’ve got way too much faith in me.” 

Your stomach flipped at the teasing edge in his voice.

“Two, minimum.”