I'm screaming again, keeping Harper secure even as I jump to my feet. She's wide-eyed, taking in all the chaos around her.
"Yeah, you're absolutely just the nanny," Michelle says. Louder this time.
Tyler's already turned toward our section, pointing at us with both hands, his grin visible even from here. The crowd is going insane; his teammates are tackling him in celebration, and all I can think is that he scored and his first instinct was to look for us.
For me.
Third period, Falcons are up three-one, but Montreal is pushing hard. Tyler's everywhere, blocking shots, breaking up plays, defending hard. Harper is getting drowsy against my shoulder, fighting sleep.
With five minutes left, Tyler intercepts a pass in the defensive zone and turns it up ice immediately. Danny streaks down the wing, calling for it, and Tyler hits him in stride with a pass that looks choreographed.
Danny buries it. Four to one. Game over.
Final buzzer. The three stars.
Third star: Rodriguez. Second star: Danny. First star: Tyler West.
The arena erupts.
Tyler skates back out, waves to the crowd, and when his eyes find our section, I'm not prepared for what happens to my chest.
He was incredible tonight. Absolutely dominant. And seeing him out there, doing the thing he loves, being this good at it, I'm so proud I could burst.
And that's the problem.
Because I'm not supposed to feel this way. I'm supposed to be professional and detached here because it's my job to care for his daughter. But watching him point at us after his goal, watching him skate around the ice with pure joy on his face, I can't pretend anymore.
I'm not just supporting my employer.
I'm falling for him.
Not in love,not yet. But falling. Tumbling toward something that terrifies me and draws me in equally. Maybe it started that first day when he picked Harper up like she was made of glass and looked at her like he couldn't believe she was real. Maybe it was the nursery floor, or the couch, or watching him get emotional over her very first jersey. Maybe it's been building through midnight conversations and the way he calls me Red.
I don't know when it started.
I just know I can't stop it.
"You okay?" Michelle asks quietly, glancing at Harper, fully asleep against my shoulder.
"Yeah." My voice sounds strange. "That was a really good game."
She gives me a knowing look, but doesn't push, and I'm grateful.
We make our way down to the family area. Harper is heavy and warm, completely asleep. Other families gather, waiting for their players.
Tyler appears before I'm ready.
Freshly showered, hair damp, wearing jeans and his Falcons hoodie, his smile when he sees us is bright enough to power the arena.
"Did you see Daddy play, baby girl?"
He takes Harper from me gently, and she doesn't even wake, just relocates against his chest. Then he lifts her high, above his head, grinning up at her sleeping face like she hung the moon. He brings her back down safely and presses a kiss to her forehead.
"First star, Red. Did you see?"
"I saw." My voice comes out softer than I intend. "You were amazing, Ty."
His eyes lock on mine. The joy on his face shifts into something deeper, something heated, and I can't look away.