The arena lights had long gone out, leaving only the faint glow of the hallway emergency lamps guiding the empty corridors. The echo of earlier cheers still rang faintly in Sheila’s ears as she walked toward the locker rooms, her hockey bag hanging loosely over her shoulder.
Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to rest.
Especially after what had happened between her and Atticus lately.
The almost touches.
The stolen glances.
The second kiss that still lingered on her lips like a dangerous memory she couldn’t erase.
She pushed open the locker room door, expecting it to be empty. The team had already left for the night.
But she froze instantly.
Atticus sat alone on the bench, still in his training jersey, his elbows resting on his knees while his fingers played absentmindedly
