Prologue
Two Years Ago
Ash
I tromp through the tunnel after the game, the blades of my skates feeling springy on the rubberized floor. Or maybe it’s the spring in my own step after extending my goal-scoring streak to five games tonight.
My shot didn’t come until the last two minutes. Rather than pass to my wing, I managed to shake my defender and get within a few feet of the goal. I faked a shot left, then did a literal pirouette on the ice, pulled the puck all the way around, and barely slid it in the right side as the goalie lunged left. Michelle Kwan would’ve been envious of the spin.
Maybe I was selfish not to pass, but I really wanted that five-game goal streak, so I held onto the puck, and it paid off. My teammates swamped me against the boards in celebration as we pulled ahead out of the tie we’d been stuck at for a period and a half.
After that, our goalie held off several desperate attempts by the other team to score in those waning moments, and we claimed victory.
I’ve already been interviewed twice out on the ice about my streak, and Coach told me to get out of my gear quickly and into the press room for some follow-up.
“Good job, Gun,” my linemate says as he claps me on the shoulder on his way to his locker. He doesn’t seem offended that I didn’t pass to him. As long as I score, he’s fine with it.
“Thanks,” I say as I fish out my cell phone. There’s a message from Grace, and I smile.
Grace
Yay! Congrats on the win and the streak! I miss you.
Ash
Thanks. Miss you too. I’ll call later. Press conference.
I put the phone away and start to pull off my kit.
I met Grace about a month ago when we were in LA for a game against the Kings. We both thought it would be a one-night stand, but she reached out to me later, and I was glad she did. I’d been thinking about her, and now we’re dating long-distance. She’s come down to Florida once since then, and I made it back out to LA a week ago for a hurried twenty hour-visit where we barely left the bed.
Grace is an actress and stunningly beautiful. She’s just my type, too, with long, light brown hair, a slim figure, and plump lips that make it look like she’s perpetually pouting.
More than that, she’s confident and driven. I have a thing for women who know what they want in their careers and go after it.
Just as long as they know I’m in charge in the bedroom.
Grace mainly does guest spots on crime procedurals, but I know she’ll make it big soon. She’s up for a small but important role in a movie that would film partly in Miami, and I’m crossing my fingers she gets it. It would put her much closer to me for at least a few months, and it would do a lot for her career.
We’re heading into the playoffs soon, and once hockey season is over, I’ll have some down time to see her. It may still be a couple months, though, since I intend to make it all the way to the Cup.
“Gunnarsson! Let’s go!” Coach calls into the locker room.
I pick up my pace as I finish taking my pads off, then sit down to remove my skates. I can leave everything else below the waist on for now until after the press conference. I can’t keep my public waiting.
They want to talk to the hottest thing on the ice right now, and I’m here for them.
Chapter 1
Present
Ash
My mouthguard goes flying as I hit the boards like they’re a concrete traffic barrier. Pain shoots through my cheek as I bite down on it, and I taste the metallic tang of blood when I swipe the cut with my tongue.
Fucking Lapointe. He’s been homing in on me tonight like he’s a heat seeking missile and my ass is on fire.
“My left ball dangles better than you, Gunnarsson,” Lapointe throws out before pushing off me to catch up with the puck.
