The Jumbotron situation
A/N: This was so cute to write, I was giggling like a little schoolgirl the entire time. I could write a part two with smut maybe, if you guys are interested let me know!
Pairing: Timo Meier x fem!reader
Words: 8,5k
Warning(s): it was originally written with you/your pronouns but that didn't make any sense so I changed it halfway through, and I got very confused by you/your and she/her so there might be some mistakes!
The arena was alive with the kind of restless energy that only a packed hockey arena can hold, the air buzzing with overlapping conversations, the rumble of thousands of fans shifting in their seats, music pulsing through the speakers, and the constant sharp scrape of skates carving lines into the bright sheet of ice.
During a stoppage in play, Timo rested the blade of his stick against the ice and bent slightly at the waist while catching his breath, the fog of it briefly visible behind his visor as he glanced around the rink in that automatic way players do between whistles.
Above centre ice, the giant jumbotron had started its usual routine of scanning the crowd for reactions.
Most of the time, players barely paid attention to it. It was usually the same rotation with kids holding nachos bigger than their heads, fans jumping up and down trying to get on camera, couples suddenly panicking when they realised the kiss cam had landed on them.
Timo’s eyes drifted toward it without much thought, and then he noticed her.
The camera had landed on a group of girls sitting a few rows up in the lower bowl, all of them pressed together as they talked and laughed over the noise of the arena, clearly having a great time. One of them was wearing his jersey. Not just the team jersey. No, his jersey, the number on the sleeve was unmistakable.
For a second, he assumed she knew the camera was on her and her friends, but then he looked closer. She had absolutely no idea.
Her friends were the first ones to notice, one of them suddenly grabbing her arm and pointing dramatically upward toward the gigantic screen hanging over the ice, while another started waving both arms like she was trying to guide an aeroplane.
The girl blinked, confused at first, looking from friend to friend like she had missed a joke. Then she followed their pointing, and she saw herself on the jumbotron.
Her eyes widened instantly, and then she broke into a laugh that looked completely genuine, the kind that crinkles your eyes and makes you cover your mouth for a second because you can’t believe what’s happening. Her friends erupted beside her, waving wildly and leaning into the camera as the section around them started cheering. After a moment, she lifted both of her hands and waved too, half laughing, half embarrassed, like she couldn’t believe an entire arena was suddenly looking at her.
The jersey she was wearing was slightly too big, the sleeves falling past her wrists in that comfortable, oversized way fans liked.
Timo stared up at the screen a second longer than he probably should have. Something about the moment stuck in his head immediately. She was, without exaggeration, the cutest girl he had ever seen, and, very unfairly, the hottest.
“Hey,” one of his teammates muttered, grinning, nudging him with a glove. “That one’s yours, Meier.” Timo barely heard him.
The camera stayed on the group a few seconds longer because the crowd clearly loved their reaction, and one of the friends even turned her slightly so the name on the back of the jersey was visible to the entire arena. A ripple of cheers spread through that side of the rink.
Inside his helmet, Timo felt his ears warming in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the game. Is this what people mean when they say love at first sight?
When the jumbotron finally cut to another crowd shot, he realized he was still looking up where it had been. Cutest girl he’s ever seen.
The referee skated toward the dot for the next face off, calling both centres in.
Timo straightened, rolling his shoulders once, suddenly feeling much more awake than he had thirty seconds ago. If you were sitting up there watching the game, wearing his jersey and cheering for him then he was going to give you something worth watching.
The puck dropped.
Timo exploded forward with far more intensity than the previous shifts, snapping his stick down and winning the draw cleanly before accelerating into the offensive zone with powerful strides that sprayed ice behind him.
The pace of the play immediately lifted.
He chased the puck into the corner, fought along the boards, and managed to kick it loose to a teammate while the crowd responded to the sudden burst of energy.
From the bench, someone yelled, “Meier’s flying tonight!” And honestly, he kind of was.
The thought of the girl in his jersey sitting somewhere in the stands had planted something competitive and slightly ridiculous in his brain.
A few shifts later, he intercepted a pass in the neutral zone and took off again, building speed with long, powerful strides before cutting around a defender who clearly hadn’t expected the sudden attack.
The noise in the arena swelled.
He drove toward the net and snapped a quick shot that forced the goalie to stretch hard to make the save.
As he circled away, breathing heavier now, adrenaline buzzing through him, Timo allowed himself a quick glance toward the crowd. Realistically, there was no chance he could find her again in a sea of thousands of fans. But still, the idea was there. Somewhere up there in the arena was a girl wearing his jersey who had laughed and waved at the camera like the whole thing was the funniest surprise of her night.
And the possibility that she might be watching him play right now made him push even harder on the next shift. He was skating faster, his hits were harder and he was more determined in every rush. Because if the jumbotron found her again later, he wanted the scoreboard to give her a reason to celebrate.
The final minutes of the game felt faster and slower at the same time, the clock above the ice ticking down while the noise inside the arena kept building with every second that passed.
The New Jersey Devils were holding on to their lead, and the crowd had that restless, standing-on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of energy that spreads through an arena when everyone knows the win is close.
On the ice, Timo Meier could feel it too. Every shift was sharper. Every pass mattered.
But even while he battled along the boards and chased down loose pucks, a small, ridiculous part of his brain kept wondering the same thing.
Was she still watching? Was the girl in his jersey still somewhere up there in the stands?
The opposing team pulled their goalie. They now had six attackers on the ice and the arena got even louder if that was even possible.
Timo hopped over the boards with his line, skates digging into the ice as he joined the play. The puck bounced out toward centre, and he lunged forward, reaching with his stick to knock it away from a defender.
For a second, it slid free. He took two hard strides and fired it down the ice. The puck slid perfectly, and it went straight into the empty net.
The arena exploded. A wall of sound crashed over the ice as the red light flashed and fans jumped to their feet, shouting and clapping while music blasted through the speakers.
Timo raised his arms, grinning as his teammates rushed toward him. Their gloves thumped against his helmet. Someone grabbed him in a quick hug.
“Let’s go!” one of them yelled.
The horn finally sounded seconds later, long and loud, echoing through the building. The game was over, and the win was secured. The players tapped their sticks and skated toward each other in celebration, the crowd still roaring while the jumbotron flashed graphics across the arena.
Timo was smiling like everyone else, but then he remembered something. His head tilted upward almost automatically. The jumbotron had switched to crowd reactions again. Their fans were cheering, and people were jumping for joy. A kid spilling popcorn because he was celebrating too hard.
And then—there she was again. It was the same group of girls. The girl in his jersey was on the screen once more, and this time she definitely knew it. The girl was already standing, both hands covering her mouth in disbelief as the people around her screamed and hugged each other. One of her friends was jumping up and down, pointing at the screen and then at the ice like she was trying to prove something. The camera zoomed slightly closer. The girl laughed again, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what was happening, and then she lifted her arms and cheered along with the rest of the arena.
Timo completely forgot that cameras might also be pointed at the ice. He was just standing there, looking up. One of his teammates, Nico, followed his gaze and immediately started laughing.
“Oh my god,” he said. “You’re looking for the girl again.”
Timo didn’t even try to deny it because there she was. Still wearing his jersey, it hadn’t been a dream. She was still smiling like she was having the best night of her life. And weirdly, that made the win feel even better.
He skated slowly toward the bench, glancing up at the screen one more time before it switched away again. Now he had a new problem because suddenly, he really wanted to find her in the arena.
The cheering inside the arena still hadn’t died down. Fans were on their feet, music was blasting, and players from the New Jersey Devils were still tapping gloves and skating toward the bench while arena staff started rolling out the three stars graphics on the jumbotron.
Up above centre ice, the camera operator clearly hadn’t lost interest in the group of girls. Especially the one in the jersey. For the third time that night, the jumbotron showed her section again. She was still laughing with her friends, slightly overwhelmed by the attention now that people around them had realized she had been on the screen multiple times. Someone behind them was pointing down toward the ice and teasing her, while one of your friends dramatically fanned her like she had suddenly become famous. She hid her face for a second, smiling. The crowd loved it.
Then the camera switched, and suddenly the entire arena was looking at Timo Meier, and he had absolutely no idea it had happened. Because at that exact moment, he was still staring up at the jumbotron, still admiring her.
There was a split second where the audience collectively realized what they were seeing before he did and a ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.
On the giant screen above the ice, Timo was very clearly looking up toward where she had been on the screen seconds earlier, a soft grin still stuck on his face like he had completely forgotten about the rest of the world. Until he started to realise, his eyes flicked upward again. Except this time, he saw himself and for a full second, he froze.
The arena erupted. Thousands of people instantly understood the situation, and the noise changed into that loud, teasing roar fans make when they know something funny or adorable is happening.
On the jumbotron, Timo’s expression shifted from confusion… to realisation, and then his cheeks turned noticeably red even through the visor of his helmet. He wasn’t just a little embarrassed, no, he was full-on blushing. The kind that spread across his face while he tried, and failed, to act normal. Which made the crowd get even louder.
On the screen behind him, someone in the stands pointed toward her section again, and the camera quickly split back to her for a moment.
Now the girl saw it too. Her eyes went wide as she looked between the ice and the screen, her friends completely losing their minds beside her. One of them grabbed her shoulders and shook her like, are you seeing this?!
Back on the ice, Timo laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his glove while the entire arena watched him. Then Jack skated past and nearly doubled over laughing.
“Bro,” he said, loud enough for nearby microphones to probably pick it up. “You’re cooked.”
Timo shook his head, still smiling, but his face was absolutely still red. When an idea hit him. A very bold idea, but a great idea nonetheless.
He looked back up at the jumbotron, knowing the camera was still on him, and pointed toward the stands where she had been sitting. The arena quieted just enough to notice. Then he gestured downward toward the ice.
It was a clear invitation. Come down. For a moment, the entire building seemed to hold its breath, and then the crowd absolutely exploded when she nodded her head yes.
Long after the game had ended the arena was still buzzing. Fans were slowly filing toward the exits, still replaying the moment on their phones, still laughing about the jumbotron situation that had turned into the most unexpected highlight of the night.
Back near the tunnel that led from the ice to the locker rooms, Timo was pacing. He was still wearing his full gear, he was still sweaty, and he definitely still hadn’t showered yet. Which several of his teammates had already pointed out.
“You’re seriously waiting here like that?” one of them said while passing by, half-dressed and carrying his equipment. “At least take the helmet off. You look insane.”
Timo ignored him. Mostly because he was too busy staring toward the hallway where arena staff had said they would bring her down. His heart was beating in that weird, nervous way that somehow felt more intense than the last minutes of the game. He had just played an NHL game, he had scored, and they had won, and somehow this felt more stressful.
From down the corridor he heard voices, then he heard the footsteps. And that’s when he saw a security staff member appear… followed by her. It was her, the girl from the stands. The girl in his jersey.
For a second both of them just stopped. Seeing someone on the jumbotron was one thing. Seeing them in real life, suddenly standing a few feet away, was another.
She looked slightly overwhelmed but excited, glancing around the tunnel and then back at him like she were making sure this was actually real.
Timo realized he was still holding his stick. He quickly leaned it against the wall.
“Hi,” he said, and immediately felt like that had been the least cool greeting possible.
She laughed softly.
“Hi.” Her voice made him grin instantly, partly because she sounded just as nervous as he felt.
Up close, he noticed the jersey again. His name across the back. Still slightly oversized on you.
“So…,” she said, gesturing vaguely back toward the arena. “That was kind of crazy.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I did not plan that.”
“I figured,” she said. “My friends are losing their minds upstairs right now.”
“I believe that.”
For a moment they both laughed, the awkwardness easing a little. Timo rubbed the back of his neck again, suddenly remembering something important.
“Oh—by the way,” he said quickly. “I’m really sorry I’m still in… all this.”
He gestured at himself. Sweaty hair, full gear. He still hadn’t bothered to take off his skates or his helmet. “I kind of ran here.”
She smiled. “I noticed.”
“I was worried you’d leave,” he said honestly, the nerves still shouting through his body.
“Not after that whole arena watched it happen.”
“Fair point.”
A comfortable silence hung there for a second, the distant sounds of the arena echoing down the hallway. Then Timo shifted slightly, suddenly a bit shy again.
“I was wondering something,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Would you maybe want to wait a little while?”
She tilted her head slightly. “For what?”
He gestured toward the locker room hallway behind him.
“So, I can shower and not smell like a hockey game,” he said, smiling. “And then maybe we could go out somewhere and actually get to know each other.”
For a moment, she just looked at him, and then her smile spread wider.
“I think that sounds fair,” she said shyly, looking towards her feet when she answered him. Relief immediately crossed his face.
“Good,” he said. “Because I’ve been thinking about asking since the first second the camera showed you.”
She laughed again. “Go shower, Timo. I will wait.”
“Fastest shower of my life,” he promised. As he jogged backward toward the locker room, he glanced back once more, clearly still excited that she was actually there.
The arena was much quieter by the time Timo finally walked back out from the locker room hallway. He was now freshly showered, his hair still a little damp. Dressed quickly but neatly, like someone who had absolutely rushed through getting ready because he would rather not make someone wait too long.
He slowed when he saw her. She was sitting on a bench near the tunnel entrance, scrolling through her phone with a small smile that suggested she was probably answering a hundred messages from friends who had just watched everything happen.
When she noticed him, she looked up.
“Oh wow,” she said immediately. “You clean up pretty fast.”
He laughed. “I told you it would be fast.”
“Your teammates came by twice to check if I was real.”
“That sounds like them.”
He walked over, suddenly a little nervous again now that the adrenaline of the game had fully worn off.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “Because I realized I haven’t eaten since before warmups.”
“Very,” she said. “Arena food smells good until you’re actually around it for three hours.”
“Then we should fix that.” They left through a quieter exit used by players and staff, stepping out into the cool night air where the sounds of the arena faded behind them.
For the first few steps, they kind of laughed. Not at anything specific, but just the weirdness of the night.
“Okay,” she said. “I still can’t believe that just happened.”
“Me neither,” Timo admitted. “I was just trying to look cool on the jumbotron, and it failed immediately.”
“You were not looking cool,” she laughed.
“I know.”
“You were staring.”
He groaned, covering his face briefly.
“The entire arena noticed,” she added.
“Yeah… I heard.”
They started walking down the street together, the glow from the arena lights fading as they found a small late-night place still open nearby. Inside it was warm and smelled like burgers and fries, the kind of place that was used to post-game crowds and didn’t make a big deal when athletes walked in. They grabbed one of the booths and sat down across from each other.
For the first time all night, things slowed down. There were no cameras or a big crowd. They could have a real conversation.
“So,” he said, leaning slightly forward. “I feel like I should start by asking your name since the entire arena knows you as ‘girl in my jersey.’”
She laughed and told him. He repeated it once, smiling like he wanted to make sure he remembered it.
They talked about the game first, because it was the easiest thing, and she admitted she’d actually come with her friends mostly for fun and hadn’t expected to end up on the jumbotron three different times.
“You were cheering really hard after the empty net,” he said.
“That’s because my friends were screaming that it was you.”
“Good friends.”
“They’re also texting me nonstop right now,” she admitted.
“About me?”
“Yes.”
He pretended to think about that. “Should I be worried?”
“Depends.”
They both laughed again.
Their food arrived, and the conversation drifted into easier topics—where she was from, how long she’d been following hockey, ridiculous travel stories from his road trips, and the chaos of life inside an NHL locker room.
At one point Timo glanced at his phone, which had been buzzing across the table for the last few minutes. He sighed.
“Let me guess,” she said. “Teammates.”
“Teammates.”
He checked it and shook his head with a grin.
“They’re all going out for drinks to celebrate the win.”
“That sounds fun.”
He looked at you for a second, thinking. Then his expression brightened. “You should come with me.”
“Crash the team celebration, you mean?”
“Yeah, why not?”
She hesitated, smiling.
“I did bring friends, remember.”
He immediately nodded. “Invite them.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he said. “They’re basically part of the story at this point.”
She picked up her phone.
“I guarantee they will run here,” she laughed. Timo wished he could make her laugh more often because he so enjoyed hearing her laughter.
“I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” she teased. “Because they are going to ask you about the jumbotron for the rest of your life.”
“Worth it.” Timo laughed.
A few minutes later she looked back up from her phone. “They’re coming.”
“Perfect.” He leaned back in the booth, clearly amused. The night had started with a hockey game, and now it was turning into something a lot more fun.
By the time you arrived at the bar, the place was already loud. Not normal loud but Hockey-team-celebrating-a-win loud.
Music pulsed through the room, glasses clinked everywhere, and a large group of players from the New Jersey Devils had taken over a big section near the back. Jerseys, hoodies, and backwards hats mixed together while they laughed about plays from the game. When Timo Meier walked in beside her, a few heads turned immediately and then some more until someone yelled across the room.
“HEY! JUMBOTRON!”
The entire table erupted.
Timo groaned and laughed at the same time. “I knew this was coming.”
She was laughing too, but before she could say anything the door behind you burst open again. It was her group of friends, all of them.
They spotted her instantly, and the screaming started.
“Oh my GOD.”
“IS THAT HIM?”
“THIS IS INSANE.”
They rushed over like a wave of excitement, grabbing her shoulders, hugging her, talking over each other so fast it was almost impossible to understand them.
“You were on the screen AGAIN.”
“We literally ran here.”
“I cannot believe this is real.”
Timo stood there smiling, slightly overwhelmed but clearly amused. She turned to him.
“Timo, these are the people who almost tackled me when the camera showed me.”
He nodded seriously. “Important people then.”
Her friends suddenly remembered basic social skills and straightened a little.
Timo stuck out his hand politely. “Hi, I’m—”
“Oh, we know,” one of them said immediately.
Another nodded aggressively. “Yeah we definitely know.”
The group burst out laughing. Timo laughed too, raising his hands in surrender.
“Okay, fair.” After a second, he gestured toward the huge table of players. “Come meet everyone.”
Her friends looked like they might pass out. Walking over felt a little surreal. Players turned in their chairs, some of them already grinning because they clearly knew exactly who you were.
One of them pointed dramatically. “That’s the girl!”
Timo shook his head. “Relax.”
Then he started introducing people. They shook hands, she was trying to remember names while her friends stood there with expressions that could only be described as complete disbelief. Eventually, she reached two players who were clearly enjoying the situation more than anyone else.
“Alright,” said Nico, smiling like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “So, this is the famous jumbotron moment.”
“I’m never escaping that, am I?” she asked.
“No,” he said cheerfully.
Next to him, Jack leaned back in his chair and looked at Timo. “You were staring, man.”
“I was not—”
“You were.”
“The entire arena saw it.”
Her friends nodded aggressively. “YES.”
Timo covered his face again while everyone laughed. When the drinks appeared, the music seemed to have gotten even louder, and the night loosened up quickly after that.
Her friends were suddenly deep in conversation with players about the game, about the jumbotron moment, about how fast everything had happened. Every few minutes someone would tease Timo again, and he would just shake his head and smile.
At one point the music shifted into something louder, something with a heavy beat that pulled half the bar toward the dance floor.
Jack noticed immediately. “Oh, we’re doing this,” he said to Nico, standing up.
Within seconds several players were heading over. She was still laughing with her friends when suddenly Nico appeared beside her.
“So,” he said casually.
“Yes?”
He gently took her shoulders and turned her slightly, and directly toward Timo who had just walked over with a drink in his hand. Nico patted him on the back and stepped away like a proud matchmaker. Jack, from behind, gave Timo a shove forward.
“Go dance,” he said.
The surrounding group started cheering immediately. Timo looked at her, half embarrassed but smiling.
“I swear they’ve been planning this.”
“Your team is very subtle.”
“So subtle.”
For a second, they just laughed while the music thumped around them. Then he held out his hand.
“Want to dance?”
She took it, and the cheering behind them got louder.
Out on the dance floor the lights flashed across the crowd, music vibrating through the floor while people celebrated the win. Timo pulled her a little closer so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd.
From across the room, she could see Nico and Jack watching. Jack pointed at them like a proud coach while Nico gave an approving nod. She laughed at them. Timo followed her gaze and groaned.
“I’m never hearing the end of this,” he said into your ear, leaning more towards her.
“Probably not,” she said into his. Liking how close he was to her. He smiled anyway, and honestly, he didn’t seem to mind at all.
Eventually, the music started to fade into that end-of-night feeling where people were still laughing and talking, but the energy had softened, like everyone knew the night was wrapping up even if nobody had officially said it yet.
The group from the New Jersey Devils had slowly thinned out as players headed home, some still buzzing from the win, while others were clearly starting to feel the exhaustion from the game.
She and her group of friends were sitting together near the edge of the table again, still replaying the entire night for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Okay,” one of them said for the tenth time. “You got on the jumbotron, he stared at you in front of an entire arena, and now we’re out celebrating with the team. This is not a normal day.”
“Trust me,” she said, laughing, “I’m aware.”
Next to her, Timo was leaning back in his chair, his arm wrapped around the back of hers, watching the conversation with an amused smile like he still couldn’t believe the chain of events either. At some point, he checked the time and sat up a little.
“Alright,” he said gently. “Before this place closes, and we all get stranded here, I’m ordering rides.”
Her friends immediately protested.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“We can call—”
“It’s fine,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Consider it part of the weirdest night ever.”
A few minutes later, he looked up again.
“Okay,” he said, pointing. “Car for you guys will be here in three minutes.”
Her friends stared at him like he had just performed another miracle.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” he said.
“You’re the nicest hockey player alive.”
“I don’t know about that.”
They stood up, still buzzing with excitement, pulling her into quick hugs and whispering rapid comments in her ear.
“You HAVE to text us everything.”
“Everything.”
“We expect updates.”
Timo laughed quietly while watching the chaos.
At the door, they turned back one last time.
“Thank you!” one of them called to him.
“No problem,” he said.
Then they disappeared outside toward their ride, leaving the sudden quiet space that happens when a big group leaves all at once. For a moment, it was just the two of them again, which somehow felt different now. It was quieter and more real.
Timo looked down at his phone again and smiled slightly.
“One more ride,” he said. “For us.”
“You didn’t have to do that either.”
“I wanted to.”
A few minutes later they were both stepping outside into the cool night air, the city much calmer than the arena had been earlier. The streetlights reflected faintly off the pavement, and the distant noise of traffic hummed in the background.
The car hadn’t arrived yet. So, they stood there together on the pavement. Neither of them seemed in a rush to fill the silence.
“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he said after a moment.
“To the game?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
He laughed softly.
“I almost didn’t look up at the jumbotron, you know.”
“That would have changed the entire night.”
“Exactly.”
The car pulled up to the curb beside them. Neither of them moved immediately. Instead, they both looked at each other with that slightly shy awareness that the night was ending.
“Well,” she said quietly.
“Well,” he echoed.
For a second, he hesitated like he was deciding whether to be bold or play it safe. Then he stepped a little closer.
“Can I—”
She didn’t let him finish the sentence. Her hand lightly grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him the rest of the way in. The kiss was soft at first, a little careful, the both of them smiling into it because the whole day still felt slightly unbelievable. When they pulled apart, he was grinning in that stunned, happy way that made it obvious he had been hoping for that moment for hours.
“Best part of the night,” he said.
“Better than the win?”
He pretended to think very seriously.
“…Close.”
She laughed. The driver cleared his throat very politely from inside the car. Timo opened the door for her, still smiling like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. And as they both got in, it was pretty obvious this wasn’t the end of the story at all.
The ride across the city felt a lot calmer than the rest of the night had been. The adrenaline from the game, the bar, the music, and the constant teasing from the New Jersey Devils players had finally settled into something quieter.
Streetlights passed in soft flashes through the windows of the car while the driver moved through mostly empty streets. Beside her, Timo Meier sat a little turned toward her, one arm resting along the seat as the two of them talked more easily now.
They discussed random things, like her friends, his teammates, and the moment on the jumbotron that neither of them was ever going to escape.
“I’m serious,” he said at one point, shaking his head with a smile. “They’re going to bring that up for the rest of the season.”
“You were the one staring.”
“You waved first.”
“That is not how that happened.”
He laughed, the kind of laugh that still carried the excitement of the night.
Eventually, the car slowed and pulled up in front of her place, and for a moment, neither of them reached for the door. It was that quiet pause again. The kind that happens when a really good night is about to end and neither person is quite ready for it.
Timo got out first and walked around with her to the pavement. The city felt calmer here, the noise of the bar and arena replaced by distant traffic and the cool air of the late night. They both stood there for a second, smiling a little awkwardly.
“Tonight was… kind of crazy,” she said.
“Best kind of crazy,” he replied.
There was a brief pause before he stepped closer again, his hands resting gently on her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world now.
The second kiss felt less shy than the first one. It was much slower and lasted a little longer. Like neither of them was in a rush anymore. When they pulled apart, he didn’t step away right away. In fact, he looked like he was thinking very hard about something.
“You know,” he said softly, almost laughing at himself, “a part of me really wants to ask if I can come upstairs and keep celebrating the win.”
She raised an eyebrow playfully. “Only a part?”
“Okay… a big part.”
They both laughed, but then his expression shifted slightly, more thoughtful.
“But honestly,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar nervous habit, “I don’t want this to be just some random crazy night.”
She tilted her head. “No?”
He shook his head. “I kind of want to do this properly.”
“Properly?”
“Like… more dates,” he said. “Dinner. Hanging out. I invite you to more games. You sit somewhere slightly less dangerous than the jumbotron.”
She laughed. “That might be impossible now.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “But still.”
He looked at her again, a little shy but sincere. “I just don’t want to rush something that already feels pretty special.”
The quiet between them felt warm instead of awkward.
“That’s actually really sweet,” she said.
“Good,” he replied. “Because I was worried that sounded weird.”
“It didn’t,” she assured him.
He smiled with clear relief.
“Okay.”
Then he leaned down and kissed her one more time, quick but soft, like a promise instead of a goodbye.
“Give me your phone,” he instructed and she followed his orders. His quickly put his contact details in and texted himself.
As he stepped back toward the waiting car, he pointed at her with a grin.
“I’m texting you tomorrow.”
“You better.”
“Next game too.”
“I’ll be there.”
He opened the door, still smiling in that slightly amazed way. Because somehow a normal hockey game had turned into the start of something neither of them had planned at all.
The next morning was quiet in a way that almost felt strange after the chaos of the night before. Sunlight filtered through the windows of Timo’s place while he lay half-awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying pieces of the previous night in his head.
The game. The jumbotron. Her laughter when she realized she was on it. Him very obviously staring.
He groaned and pulled a pillow over his face.
“They are never letting that go,” he muttered to himself, already imagining the jokes waiting for him the next time he walked into the locker room of the New Jersey Devils.
But then his mind drifted to the end of the night. To the car ride, standing outside her place, the way she smiled right before she kissed him. That thought made him grin into the pillow.
After a minute, he rolled over and grabbed his phone from the night stand.
There was no practice today, no team meeting, nothing scheduled until tomorrow, which meant he had time.
His thumb hovered over the screen for a second while he thought about how to word it and then he typed.
Good morning 🙂 I just woke up and I’m still thinking about last night. I realized I don’t have practice today, which feels illegal after a win. Do you want to do something together later?
He stared at the message for a moment and then hit sent before he could overthink it.
Phone tossed back on the bed. Two seconds later, he grabbed it again. Just in case she answered fast. Which, to his surprise… She did.
His screen lit up and he opened it immediately.
Good morning! I was hoping you’d text. And yes, I’d love to do something 🙂
Timo sat up in bed, suddenly much more awake than he had been a minute earlier. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. He had suggested “doing things properly.” Which meant today technically counted as their first real date. No jumbotron and more importantly no teammates pushing them together. It would just be the two of them.
He smiled and started typing again.
Okay good, because I was going to be very disappointed if you said no. We could get coffee, walk around somewhere, maybe food later? I promise there are no arena cameras involved this time.
A moment passed. Then the typing bubble appeared again and for some reason, even after playing in front of thousands of people, that tiny typing bubble made him a little nervous.
Her answer came quickly.
Coffee sounds perfect. And I promise not to accidentally end up on any giant screens today.
Timo laughed quietly to himself when he read it.
Honestly at this point it might just happen automatically.
A little while later the two of them met outside a small coffee place that was much calmer than the arena, the bar, and everything else that had happened the night before.
For a second when they spotted each other, they both had that same small smile again—the one that said this is still kind of surreal.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” said Timo, clearly trying not to grin too hard.
“No cameras today?”
He glanced around dramatically.
“I think we’re safe.”
Inside the café it smelled like fresh coffee and pastries, the quiet background chatter of people working on laptops or talking softly making the whole place feel calm.
A very different world from a hockey arena.
He ordered drinks for the both of them and found a small table by the window, though neither of them stayed sitting very long before deciding to walk around the city instead.
The day had that crisp, cool air that made walking feel easy. Conversation came naturally now. They shared things that hadn’t come up the night before—where she grew up, stupid childhood stories, how he started playing hockey, which teammates were the most chaotic.
At one point he stopped mid-story because he started laughing.
“What?” she asked.
“I just realized something.”
“What?”
“If you come to more games,” he said, “my teammates are going to immediately look for you in the crowd.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
They would definitely tease him again in the locker room if they knew he had spent his day off like this. But honestly, he didn’t care.
Hours passed faster than either of them expected. Eventually, they ended up walking through another street lined with small shops and restaurants, the late afternoon light starting to soften around the buildings.
Timo checked the time on his phone. Then made a small disappointed face.
“You have somewhere to be?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Let me guess.”
“Early practice tomorrow,” he said. “And a game in the evening.”
She nodded. “That makes sense.”
He slowed slightly as she kept walking.
“I wish I didn’t have to go yet though.”
“Me too.”
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Then he looked at her like an idea had just formed.
“Well,” he said.
“Well?” you asked.
“You could come tonight.”
“To the game?”
“Yeah.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You just want to check if I’m wearing your jersey again.”
He laughed. “I mean… that would be nice.”
She pretended to think about it.
“I’m serious,” he added, smiling. “I kind of like looking up and seeing you there.”
That sentence came out more honest than he probably intended, but he didn’t take it back. Instead, he nudged her arm lightly.
“So?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” His face lit up immediately.
“Yeah.”
“But you have to wear the jersey,” he said.
“Oh my god.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Am I wrong?”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Fine. I’ll wear it.”
“Perfect.”
Because even though he had a full NHL game ahead of him tomorrow night… Suddenly, he was already looking forward to the moment he’d glance up at the crowd again.
That evening, the arena felt different to her now. The first time she had walked into the building, she had just been another fan in the crowd, bundled up with her friends and laughing about the chance of being caught on the jumbotron.
Now, as she stepped through the entrance again wearing the same jersey with Meier across the back, she felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves that made her heart beat a little faster. Her friends noticed immediately.
“Oh my god,” one of them said while grabbing her arm dramatically. “You are returning to the scene of the crime.”
“She’s not a normal fan anymore,” another added. “She has connections.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing.
“Relax.”
But secretly she understood why they were making a big deal out of it because the entire story still felt slightly unreal to her too.
Inside the arena the energy was already building again, warm air filled with music, announcements, and the rumble of thousands of people settling into their seats. Down below, players were starting warmups. Her eyes moved across the ice almost automatically, and there he was. Timo.
The second she spotted him skating past the boards, something in her chest tightened in that unexpected way that happens when someone suddenly matters more than they did yesterday.
As if he somehow felt it, he glanced up toward the stands. It only took him a second to spot her. Even from across the rink, she could see the grin spread across his face. He tapped his stick once against the boards in a small wave before circling back into the drill.
Her friends lost their minds.
“HE SAW YOU.”
“Yes he did.”
“Oh she’s blushing.”
“I am not.”
She absolutely was, and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. All throughout warmups, he kept glancing up every now and then, not enough to be obvious to everyone else, but enough that she noticed every single time, and every single time it made her smile.
Later, once the game started, she tried to focus like a normal fan. She really did try her best, but now there was a strange extra layer to everything.
Every shift he took. Every rush up the ice. Every time he came close to the boards on her side.
At one point he nearly scored, and she jumped halfway out of her seat along with the rest of the arena. Her friends immediately grabbed her shoulders.
“You screamed louder than everyone.”
“She’s invested now.”
“I am invested,” she admitted.
Down on the ice Timo was playing hard again. Maybe a little harder than usual. And whether he would ever fully admit it or not, he definitely knew exactly where she was sitting.
Between periods, he even caught himself glancing up toward the crowd again. Which did not go unnoticed by a certain teammate.
Jack skated past him and smirked. “Your friend’s here.”
“I know.” Timo tried to play it cool.
“You looked up there three times already.”
“Did not.”
“Don’t try to make this another Jumbotron incident!” Jack laughed and skated away.
By the third period, she had that familiar nervous energy again, the same one she had felt during the previous game. The scores were close, the plays were fast, and the arena was roaring. Every now and then she caught herself wondering if he would look up again. With only a few minutes left, he did exactly that during a stoppage in play. Their eyes met for a brief second. He smiled at her, not a big dramatic one but just a small, quick smile only meant for her. Her stomach flipped, and her friends noticed immediately.
“Oh my god it’s happening again.”
She buried her face in her hands while laughing.
“Stop.”
But she couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the game, and somewhere down on the ice, Timo felt the exact same way.
The game had already been intense. Fast shifts. Hard hits. The kind of pace that made the crowd inside the arena louder with every passing minute.
Down on the ice, Timo could feel it building. The New Jersey Devils were pushing hard, and the opposing team clearly didn’t want to make anything easy.
Late in the second period, after a whistle near the boards, players started gathering in that usual cluster that always happens after a physical play. There were shoves, gloves tapping against chests, a few words were exchanged that the referees pretended not to hear. Timo turned to skate away when one of the opposing players skated past him and laughed. Not the friendly kind, the knowing one that was followed by a few words, hoping for a response.
“Oh hey,” the guy said loudly enough for nearby players to hear. “Jumbotron Romeo.”
A couple of players nearby snorted. Timo kept skating. He’d heard the jokes from his teammates all day already, but the other player clearly wasn’t done.
“Your girlfriend in the stands tonight?” he continued. “You gonna stare at her again instead of playing?”
Those words made Timo stop, slowly he turned back. The other player smirked like he had been hoping for exactly that reaction.
“What?” Timo said.
The guy shrugged exaggeratedly.
“Just saying. Whole league saw it.”
A couple more shoves happened around them as players separated. But the comment had already landed, and something about hearing it from the opposing bench instead of his teammates hit differently.
Up in the stands, she noticed immediately that something had changed. Players were talking, they got closer together with the kind of body language that never meant anything calm.
Her friend leaned forward. “Uh oh.”
Back on the ice the player said one more thing under his breath. “Better keep your eyes on the puck tonight, lover boy.”
For Timo that was enough, he dropped his gloves. The reaction from the arena was instant. The crowd roared as the other player barely had time to react before gloves hit the ice and the referees started shouting.
“HEY HEY!”
The other guy dropped his gloves too, and suddenly, they were grabbing each other.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
“Oh my god,” one of her friends said.
The fight wasn’t long, but it was real. They were pulling at each other’s jerseys, being followed by a couple of solid punches. The crowd absolutely losing their minds because hockey fans secretly love chaos. Eventually, the linesmen rushed in and pulled them apart, dragging them backward while both players were still trying to say something over each other.
As Timo was pushed toward the penalty box, one of his teammates skated past laughing. They weren’t laughing at him but at the situation.
From the stands she could see him sit down in the box, breathing hard. For a second he looked really annoyed, then he glanced up toward the crowd towards her section. When their eyes met again, his expression shifted into a slightly sheepish grin. Like he already knew exactly what she was thinking.
Her friends were staring at her.
“Girl! Did he just fight someone because of you?”
She covered her face, half laughing and half shocked.
“I think he did.”
Down in the penalty box, Timo leaned back against the glass while the crowd kept buzzing about it around him. Across the ice, the other player sat in the opposite box. The guy was still chirping. Timo just shook his head. That was totally worth it.
By the time the game ended the arena was still buzzing about the fight. People around her kept replaying it on their phones, talking about it, laughing about it, debating who had won. Her friends, however, had only one focus. Him.
“Well,” one of them said while they were making their way down toward the tunnel again, “your hockey player just fought someone over you.”
“He did not fight someone over me. And he is not my hockey player.”
“He absolutely did and he absolutely is.”
She tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks, but it was impossible when the entire situation still felt unreal. Part of her was flattered. Another part of her was slightly worried. Because hockey fights might look fun to the crowd, but they still involved actual punches, and actual injuries.
By the time she reached the familiar hallway near the locker rooms, the noise of the arena was muffled behind concrete walls and distant echoes of celebration.
She shifted nervously from foot to foot while waiting. Her friends stood a few steps away, trying very hard to pretend they weren’t listening for every sound coming from the locker room door. Then it opened, players started filtering out in small groups. Some of them were laughing, others were talking. Clearly still hyped from the game.
And then she saw him. Timo stepped out with damp hair, wearing a hoodie and sweats, and the second he spotted her his entire face lit up the way it always seemed to when he saw her. But she immediately noticed something else.
“Oh my god,” she said as she walked straight toward him. “Your lip.”
He instinctively touched it and winced slightly. There was a small cut on his bottom lip, not huge, but definitely noticeable.
“It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
“That does not look like nothing.” Her voice had that soft worried tone that instantly made him smile. “Did he hit you hard?”
“Not that hard.”
She leaned closer without even thinking about it, gently tilting her head to look at the injury better. For a moment, the loud hallway around them faded a little. Timo looked down at her, clearly enjoying how concerned she was.
“It looks bad,” she said.
“Occupational hazard.” He shrugged.
She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”
He grinned.
Then, very casually, he said the most dangerous possible sentence.
“Well… it shouldn’t change anything.”
She blinked.
“Shouldn’t change anything about what?”
He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice just enough so only she could hear.
“It won’t affect our kisses.”
For half a second she just stared at him.
Then her entire face turned bright red while her friends behind her completely lost their composure.
“Oh my GOD.”
“Did he just—”
“I heard that!”
Timo laughed, clearly proud of himself.
“You’re impossible,” she said, trying to sound annoyed and failing miserably.
“You’re the one inspecting my injuries.”
“Because you got into a fight!” she argued.
“Important context,” he said, pointing slightly toward the arena, “I won.”
She laughed despite herself. “I’m not encouraging this behaviour.”
“Sure you aren’t.”
For a moment, they just stood there smiling at each other like two people who were still slightly surprised this whole thing had happened at all.
Then he glanced toward the exit.
“So… are you still free tonight?”
Her friends immediately stepped forward.
“Yes she is.”
She turned around. “I can speak for myself!”
Timo laughed again, gently wiping the small bit of blood from his lip with his sleeve.
“Good,” he said.
Then he looked back at her with that same soft expression he had started giving her since the jumbotron night.
“Because I’d really like to see you again.”
She smiled. “Even with the busted lip?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“I think you’ll manage.”
