Stick Magic

He was my high school crush—the guy who had no clue I existed. Sure, we shared a fleeting moment in the country club closet, but he thought I was someone else. After that night, I went to college, moved to Boston to find myself, and pushed him out of my thoughts.

It worked—until he saw me performing at a local community theater. My character is bold, daring, and vivacious—everything I’m not—which makes him believe, again, that I’m someone else.

He likes what he sees, and while a hot fling with an NHL star isn’t on my bingo card, sometimes the numbers line up vertically, or horizontally—or, in my case, both.

It’s only when I find myself in his arms—and his bed—that I begin to discover who I really am and what I want. The problem? He has no idea I’m the nerdy girl from high school he never noticed.

But one thing I do know, after spending time with him and learning his fears and hopes, is that he’s everything I’ve ever wanted—and I’m everything that can destroy him.