This man has no shame, acting like a love-sick idiot on the ice with twenty thousand fans watching him. But I’m a love-sick idiot too, so I somewhat discreetly make the same heart, our heart, with my hands for him to see. That smile on his lips only grows before he skates back to the bench, grabs his gloves and helmet, and refocuses on warming up. “That boy is so in love with you,” Indy states. Spoken or unspoken, I feel the exact same way.
