Zeke Wilshire kisses me outside a crowded party like a dare.
Our we’re-not -together pact just turned hot as hell.
My ex didn’t cheat.
He did worse––he made me lose myself.
So the plan is simple: get over him. Go out with my girls. Dance it off. Move on.
Except Zeke doesn’t stop staring.
Campus hockey star.
Jealous eyes.
Hands that remember every place I melt.
And he’s impossible–the kind of boy who swears he’ll change, then shows up at midnight anyway.
We set rules: no labels, no promises, no feelings.
Just…what we’re good at.
But one l look and I’m breaking every line I drew.
Somewhere between the parties, the late nights,...
Zeke Wilshire kisses me outside a crowded party like a dare.
Our we’re-not -together pact just turned hot as hell.
My ex didn’t cheat.
He did worse––he made me lose myself.
So the plan is simple: get over him. Go out with my girls. Dance it off. Move on.
Except Zeke doesn’t stop staring.
Campus hockey star.
Jealous eyes.
Hands that remember every place I melt.
And he’s impossible–the kind of boy who swears he’ll change, then shows up at midnight anyway.
We set rules: no labels, no promises, no feelings.
Just…what we’re good at.
But one l look and I’m breaking every line I drew.
Somewhere between the parties, the late nights, and the way he whispers he’ll be better, I stop caring about pride and plans.
We’re not back together.
We’re not over, either.
We’re only exes that puck.
I swear.
Exes That Puck is a high-angst, exes-to-lovers college hockey romance about an on-again/off-again situationship that turns into a slow repair. Expect jealous hockey boy energy, protective friends, and a heroine reclaiming her voice. No cheating. No cliffhanger. Complete standalone with guaranteed HEA.
