Chapters (24)
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Epilogue
- Preview of Back in the Burbs
- About the Author
- Discover more Amara titles…
Those fuckers. She wanted to find them now and she’d…well, she didn’t know what but something. “That’s not fair. You’re—”
“A journeyman player,” he interrupted. “I get that. I’ve made peace with it. I love the game, but I’m not going to be a Hall of Famer like my dad or a career that lasts decades like Christensen—the real recipient of the Petrov hockey talent.”
He said it as if it didn’t matter, but she wasn’t fooled. No one got to this level of play unless they wanted to be the best. Ian may not be good at lying to her, but he seemed to excel at lying to himself.
“I’ve got another year or two, and then I’ll go into coaching. I’m actually looking forward to it.” This time his grin was genuine, but it faded quickly. “Of course, that’s not the story the media will report. For them it will be all about my failures.”
“Change the narrative.” The ideas popped into her head one after the other. “You could—”
He lifted their hands, brushing his lips across her knuckles in a move that sent a sizzle of desire zinging through her.
“It’s not worth it.” He lowered their hands again. “There is nothing in the world worth opening myself up to everyone’s judgment and splashing myself all over the hockey sites.”
“Is that why you grunt so much?” she asked, lightening the mood with a teasing question.
“Maybe it’s because I don’t know what to say around you.”
She snorted in disbelief. “Like the girl with the voice of a ten-year-old is in the least bit intimidating.”
“I’m not intimidated,” he said, bringing them to a stop right at center ice and turning all of his attention to her. “I’m fascinated.”
Oh my.
Oh.
My.
His gaze dropped to her mouth as tactile as a touch that set her on fire and all she wanted was to get licked by the flames.
“We’d better get back to the hotel before curfew,” she said, fumbling to hold on to her better judgment. “Can’t break the rules.”
“Not that one anyway.”
Not any of them, because when it came to Ian Petrov, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go back again to pretending there was nothing between them.
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
This was a dumb decision.