My entire body ignites at her words, heat surging through my veins like wildfire, but I don’t get the chance to say or do anything else before Coach Dunaway’s whistle blares again, reminding me that there are more kids waiting for a trip around the ice.

“Hold that thought,” I tell her with a heated glance, then skate back to the line of kids.

The next hour passes in a blur of small skaters and excited faces. I do my best to give each kid a memorable experience, but my mind keeps drifting back to Hannah watching from the sidelines. Every few minutes, I steal a glance her way, catching her watching me with those gorgeous blue and green eyes that always seem to see right through me.

After half a dozen kids, my body is on autopilot—lift, skate, spin, high-five, repeat—while my thoughts remain firmly fixed on the woman wearing my jersey.

Just as I’m thinking I might be done for the evening, the crowd thins, and I realize a little boy is standing and waiting all by himself. I have no idea where his parents are until a woman with straight black hair skates up next to us. I smile at her, thinking she’s about to introduce her son to me, but instead she jabs a hand out for me to shake.

“Hi, I’m Jessica.”

I stare at her for a second, not really understanding what’s going on here. None of the other parents have introduced themselves to me like this, but I shake her hand anyway and wait for her to tell me her boy’s name. Instead, she keeps staring at me until finally I catch on to what she’s subtly hinting at. The kid isn’t here to skate—she is.

“Sorry,” I say with a bemused chuckle. “I just assumed it was the little guy who wanted to meet me.”

“Oh, we’re both big fans,” she says with a broad smile. “But he already got to skate with one your teammates, so I figured, why don’t I take a turn? I’ve always loved ice skating. And it sure doesn’t hurt that you’re so handsome.”

She bats her eyelashes a little as she says that last part, and warning lights flash in my head.

Is she one of those puck bunnies the guys warned me about?

I’ve been on the team less than a season, so I haven’t had any women throw themselves at me like this yet. Not that I’d be interested anyway—there’s only one woman I want. My jaw tightens as I shift into professional mode. I smile with practiced politeness and focus my attention back on the woman.