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“He probably does that all the time,” I add with a forced chuckle, even though the thought sits wrong. “Guys like that… they don’t exactly stick around after the orgasms.”

“Damn, Kat...so basically, you dumped yourself before he had the chance. That’s a new one” Layla rolls her eyes, but I can’t meet them. Because she’s right, it wasn’t just about him. It was me. Ididn’tstay long enough to find out what he wanted. I told myself it was just sex. Just heat. Nothing more.

“Well,” she lifts a brow. “You could go back? Maybe he’s a regular and you could try running into him again. Or you might even find someone better.”I doubt I’d find anyone better, but I also don’t really want to try. Going to that sex party was a one-off experience. There was a lot that went into even getting accepted into it including blood tests and background checks. It was actually quite impressive how business-like they were about it. It went a long way into putting my mind at ease about even joining. But now, I am not so sure about going through all that again, especially with my new job. What if I inadvertently run into someone who works with me there?

“I think my window for sex parties is over, Layla,” I counter, grabbing another slice. “Besides, I have to think about work and stepping into a role that someone had for nearly four decades. That’s a lot of pressure and a huge shoe to fill.”

Layla’s eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me that part. I thought it was a brand-new position since the team is new.”

“New team, but the guy was hired because he’d worked with the new coach at another team. His reputation is pretty well known in the sports world—I hope mine can hold up to his.”

Layla puts a hand on my arm and smiles. “You know it will. You’re awesome and that’s that.” She leans back with another slice of pizza in her hand. “Now, enough about this serious shit. Let’s talk about why our mutual friend is apparently dating two brothers at the same time!”

I laugh at her scandalized voice and let myself sink into the warmth of wine, carbs, and gossip. A perfect night in.

But the peace doesn’t last long. Because later—tipsy and full—I check my phone and spot the email I’d been waiting for.

Not just a confirmation.

The Cyclones Roster—Internal Use Only.

I tap it open, scanning through names, some I barely recognize… until one jumps out like it’s been bolded.

Liam Steele.

‘Stay the hell away from that guy.’

Griffin’s voice hisses through my mind.

Liam freaking Steele. The human hazard sign Griffin couldn’t shut up about. The one name on the list that basically came with a brother-issued restraining order.

I shut the laptop.

This week just got interesting.

Chapter six

Liam

Silencefuckswithme.

It makes my thoughts too loud, too sharp.

I hunch at the edge of the Cyclones locker room bench, taping my stick like it’s the only thing keeping me from coming apart.

The air reeks of wet gear and old adrenaline—familiar and sharp, like the inside of a warzone.

The others file in, laughing, chirping, slapping tape onto blades like we didn’t just get our asses handed to us by a team with half our payroll during a pre-season scrimmage game last night. That’s the thing about Florida hockey—everyone expects sunshine and easy wins. They forget this is still the NHL. Nomatter how shiny the palm trees outside look, blood still hits the ice here.

I’m here for a fresh start. But the ghosts packed themselves into my gear bag.

“Yo, you Liam Steele?” a voice pipes up—new guy, loud voice, not a clue.

I nod without looking up.

“Coach Dawson’s prodigy, right? He ever teach you that no-look pass from the Canyon showcase reel? That shit went viral back in high school. Guy’s a legend.”

There it is. Again. Dawson. Always fucking Dawson.