The Toronto Terror

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

If I had known how irrevocably my life was about to change, I would have walked the other way after talking to my coach. I should have taken any other route out of the Toronto Terror head office. But I didn’t and now–everything is different. At first I didn’t recognize the woman doing a victory dance down the hall when she thought no one was watching. Until she turned around. And that beautiful smile was aimed at me.

I’ve been secretly in love with Wilhelmina Reddi-Grinst since the third grade. I should be the one taking her to our small-town high school reunion. The prom king finally gets his chance with the valedictorian. Except she hates me. To the world, I’m a pro hockey player with a million dollar smile. To Hemi, I’m the menace who (accidentally) sank her bike to the bottom of the lake. I never thought I’d be able to right my wrongs until she took the team’s PR job. I’d hoped I was making progress, winning her over—one geriatric polka party at a time.

Two nights with her ruined me for all other women, but I never got the chance to make her mine. I’m the pinnacle of control. I protect the net, my team, and my daughter. It’s my final season and I can’t afford any distractions. Except our new assistant coach just walked in. And I would know her face anywhere. She’s the one I dream about.

Connor Grace is the league’s bad boy—and my best friend’s worst enemy. He’s the fallen prince of a famous hotel chain dynasty. Me? I’m the foster kid who grew up to be a librarian. I never thought I’d end up in a marriage of convenience to make someone’s grandma happy, but here we are. I have no plans to kiss my husband for any reason other than show. I have no plans to fall in love with the arrogant man dressed in a custom suit hiding intricate tattoos.

Things I should never, under any circumstances, ever do: ask my secret crush, aka the most notorious (reformed) playboy in pro hockey, to take my virginity. Too bad, I did. After a string of terrible dates, I did the unthinkable. I propositioned Flip Madden. Of course, he said no. It isn’t that he’s almost a decade older than me, or that I’m still in university. It’s because I’m his coach’s oldest daughter. Not to mention my dad would bludgeon him with his hockey stick if he found out. Which he won’t, because it will never happen.