Ruined reputations. Pressure from the top. Dark secrets. And they say rookies have no fun.
I have a problem.
People seem to care more about my life off the ice than they do about what I bring to the ice. And that's an issue.
If I'm not taken seriously, the team's not taken seriously. If the team's not taken seriously, that means we lose season ticket holders, investors, all of it.
I'm told to find a girlfriend. A girlfriend will calm everyone down, ground me into reality. Keep me from clubs, from late nights, from women.
I don't do girlfriends.
No one would believe it.
And when my sister suggests I use her friend, I shudder. Noah is my enemy, even if she looks good in those jeans and the way she bites her bottom lip makes me want to take her against the wall.
She would never want me. She hates me. And I hate her.
But maybe that's why it's so perfect. I know we won't get in over our heads.
One night together, tangled up in sweaty limbs, means absolutely nothing.
So what if I want to do it again and again?
So what if I want to learn all of her secrets - even the dark ones?
It means nothing.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
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