“That would be great, thanks.” It would pale in comparison to the hot chocolate from End of the World with Chase, but Shiv was right—the arena’s chill had seeped into my bones. Next time I was at Northview, I would have to remember to bring a blanket.

When I turned the corner to exit the women’s bathroom, I caught sight of Amelia and Jillian standing outside. Icy dread flooded my body faster than I could blink. Couldn’t escape them at home, couldn’t escape them at the arena.

They were wearing short skirts with bare legs, which struck me as highly impractical, given the venue. Heck, even my outfit wasn’t cutting it, and I was in jeans with a flannel button-up beneath my puffy coat.

Jillian’s eyes flickered over to me, and she nudged Amelia, leaning in to say something under her breath, burgundy-painted lips moving silently. I was in the process of walking around them when Amelia turned, glowering at me with heavily made-up eyes.

“You’ll be happy to know that your boyfriend injured Luke.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong. I was not broken up about Luke leaving the game.

Pivoting a quarter turn, I came to a stop and straightened my shoulders. While it may have been two on one, at least I had height on my side. Now that we were face to face, I was more perplexed than ever by their nightclub-esque makeup and outfits.

“And?” I gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Refs saw the whole thing. He’ll do his time in the sin bin for it.”

Nothing more could be done, anyway; it was too late to review the call. I supposed the Bulldogs could try to make Chase answer for it during the third period. Operative word being try. So far, they hadn’t been successful in actually hitting him—aside from a single cheap shot from behind. I was going to take that up with Derek later.

Amelia jutted her delicate chin, her dark eyes flashing with anger. “He might be out for more than just this game, thanks to Carter.”

“Oh.” I kept my tone flat, face impassive. Was I supposed to care? Luke could retire for all it mattered to me. In fact, I’d welcome it. Then I wouldn’t have to see his face at games.

My attention traveled behind them, searching for Shiv in the crowd. Maybe I could text her.

“He was gunning for Luke. It was a super dirty hit,” Jillian added, voice dripping with contempt.

Cue record screech. I’d seen a million dirty things on the ice tonight, and the majority of them had come from the Bulldogs.

I leveled them with a steely glare. “You’re joking, right? Did you see Paul take a run at Chase? The only difference between Chase’s hit and the one Paul attempted was that Paul missed.”