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And I deserved everything that came with it.

All I had to do was get through the series, act the part, and keep my head down.

I spotted Tyler leaning against the glass near where I would be sitting, his arms crossed, his gaze sweeping over the arena like he owned the place. Maybe that was an epidemic among NHL players, being full of themselves. As far as I knew he wasn’t a huge star—that would have made Everett balk at the job for sure—so Tyler was just one of those guys full of themselves for no apparent reason except he had been born. He noticed me coming down the stairs and flashed me a smirk as I approached. “You look hot,” he mouthed.

I forced a smile in return, trying to channel my role. I’d obviously never been a devoted girlfriend, or a girlfriend at all, but swooning seemed to be a requirement for the job title, right?

I could pretend to swoon.

He lifted his chin at me and winked before pushing off the glass and skating away.

I swallowed the bile creeping up my throat and pasted on a smile, even though no one around me seemed to have noticed the interaction.

Absentmindedly scanning the ice, I blinked when I saw one of the Dallas players…staring.

Thinking he must be looking at someone else, I glanced behind me, but there was no one. When I turned around, he was still looking.

Why was he staring at me?

And then…he took off his helmet. I wasn’t prepared for the jolt of lust that hit me the moment his face came into view. The rough edge of his jawline, sharp enough to cut through ice. The mess of blond hair, damp with sweat, falling haphazardly around his forehead. His eyes—bright, intense, dark green, like the forest at dusk, dangerous and consuming. Even from my seat, I could feel the intensity behind them, like he saw through everything and everyone. Like he could see me.

I couldn’t look away.

For a split second, everything around him seemed to blur, the noise of the arena fading into the background as I took him in. His expression was serious, focused, but there was something about the way his lips tugged at the corner in a small smirk that made him impossibly hotter to me. He wasn’t just good-looking—he was gorgeous, the kind of face that made everyone else pale in comparison.

He wiped a tattooed hand across his forehead, shaking out his hair, and I realized nowIwas the one staring. Not just staring—gawking. My pulse quickened, a flutter of nerves and something else—something I didn’t want to acknowledge—rising in my chest.

I yanked my gaze away, finding Tyler on the ice skating toward me. He leaned against the glass and smirked. Pinning my practiced, plastic smile to my lips, I pretended I was madly in love as he blew me a kiss.

So much for trying to stay under the radar.

Heat rushed to my cheeks—not the good kind, but the kind that made you want to crawl under your seat and disappear.

For some reason I found myself glancing at the Dallas player again.

He was a few strides away, near the edge of the ice, his stick gripped tight in his hands. Even with the helmet on, I could see the fury radiating off him. His entire body was coiled, his jaw clenched so hard I thought he might snap his mouthguard in half. Dark green eyes burned under the shadow of his visor, locked directly on Tyler with a ferocity that made the air feel ten degrees hotter.

Well, that was interesting. He looked like he wanted to kill him.

I glanced between the two of them, trying to piece it together. I was sure I would hear about it from Tyler later.

* * *

I hadn’t been sure of what to expect for my first hockey game.

But it certainly hadn’t been this.

Hockey, it turned out, wasn’t boring at all.

I’d also found out the name of the Dallas player I’d been drooling over—Logan York—and that the glare I’d seen him give Tyler…was because they hated each other.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the crowd chanted as Tyler and Logan dropped their gloves and went after each other for what felt like the millionth time of the game. Fists were flying, bodies slamming into the boards, helmets scattering like loose change on the ice. I couldn’t stop staring, a grin sliding onto my lips as Logan landed a vicious punch that sent Tyler reeling. Blood sprayed from Tyler’s mouth, dotting the ice like red confetti. The crowd went wild. That was what I liked to see.

“Wow,” I muttered under my breath as Logan shoved Tyler into the boards once more with enough force to make the plexiglass rattle. Tyler snarled something at him—something I couldn’t hear, but could guess, judging by the murderous look on Logan’s face. The ref tried to separate them, but Logan landed one last jab before being dragged away, his eyes still locked on Tyler like he wanted to murder him in front of the entire arena.

I bit back a laugh. Tyler, sputtering and furious, skated toward the penalty box, blood dripping onto the ice. Logan followed him moments later, slamming himself onto his bench with a grin that looked downright feral.

“They’re both insane,” I whispered, half to myself, as the game resumed.