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MAX

I don’t want to be here. The thought creeps insidiously through all of the positive mindset junk I’ve been practicing for months, the words playing through my mind as soft and persistent as the snow falling outside the car window.

I want to be back on my home ice, not in Austria looking out at skaters winding their way around the skating paths, some zooming along, others meandering hand-in-hand as the car glides to a stop in front of a building that looks more like a palace than a hotel.

This certainly isn’t Vegas, and it sure as hell isn’t California, where I grew up. I step out of the car and breathe in the brisk air. Vienna even smells different, like snow and pine trees.

Ryan, Titanium’s manager, told me to think of this as a quick break. In and out for a long weekend while there’s an opening in our schedule. Some break. I’ve been dragged halfway across the world for a sponsorship deal I couldn’t care less about.

I know I should, but people have been judging me my whole life based on how I look, where I’m from, who my father is. The only stick people should judge me by is my hockey stick. But it doesn’t matter what I think. Ryan, my agent and the NHL think this opportunity is too good to pass up. So here I am, getting ready to turn on the charm, and rely on the fact that I won some genetic lottery instead of on the blood, sweat and tears I pour onto the ice every time I strap on my skates.

This weekend won’t be easy though. Oh, the posing and the smiling will be easy enough – and let’s face it: puck bunnies aren’t exclusive to rinks. The hard part will be ignoring the fact that she’s here.

I roll my head, loosening up the tight muscles in my neck. We played in Boston last night, and then I caught a red-eye to Montreal almost missing my connecting flight to Vienna and this “opportunity” my agent accepted before he even spoke to me.

Fuck. I’m at the prime of my career. We could have a shot at the Cup this year with Lebuchen and Gerrard as additions and my agent thinks I need to worry about sponsorship deals and preserving space for me once my career is over? I don’t need to think about that shit for another five years at least.

I’m the best.

Unless I get injured. A breeze blows the snow down the back of my neck, and I tighten my scarf, smiling at the doorman. Positive thoughts. The scent of ginger and cinnamon brushes over me as I enter the lobby.

Holy shit, this is incredible.

I blink at the opulent decorations. I mean, Vegas does Christmas big too, and those displays are incredible, but the quiet elegance, the sense of tradition, cloaks the entire hotel.

I feel like I stepped into a fairytale.

Vienna is beautiful, like a Christmas movie come to life, but as pretty as the decorations are, I’m not in the mood for Christmas.

I’m not in the mood for anything other than getting this done, getting some sleep, and getting back on the ice.

I can hold it together for one weekend. Positive thoughts.

She probably doesn’t even remember me.

“ Guten Tag, Mr. Walker,” the clerk at the desk smiles as he hands me back my passport with a room key. “Your bags will be taken to your room, and your party has been advised that you have arrived. Someone is on their way down to greet you now.”

My chest tightens. I thought that maybe with my flight being a little late, I could avoid this part. I’m here so they can dress me up and take my picture, I don’t need the whole wine and dine aspect of this deal. I don’t need?—

The sharp sound of stilettos on marble cuts through the ambient noise and my heart speeds up. There’s a chance it’s someone else. Some no-nonsense businesswoman named Brunhilda who will talk down to the dumb hockey player, secretly check out my ass during the photoshoot, and this weekend will be over before I know it.

Maybe I’ll even get a chance to break out my skates on that rink I spotted outside.

“Mr. Walker?” That voice sends a chill down my spine. It sounds like a sharp blade across ice. Like the buzzer after a win.

Too bad I can’t enjoy it.

I paint a lazy smile on my face and turn, taking in the stunning woman before me. Just like that night two years ago, I’m struck by her beauty. Her blonde hair is swept back in some fancy coil and her eyes are the color of my favorite scotch. A bright golden I could drown in. Get drunk on.

Anna J?ger.

The one woman who is completely off limits to me, given my history with her brother.

Felix J?ger – my biggest rival on the ice and the man whose made it his life mission to ruin me, both in and out of the rink.

“Anna,” I say, fighting to keep my gaze from drifting over her. Just my fucking luck that this woman who made me feel something… different , is the one I definitely can’t have.

And just like that night two years ago after discovering who I was, when she says my name, her beautiful, lush mouth twists with distaste. “Max Walker.” She folds her arms across her chest. “You actually showed up.”

I give her my best Prince Charming smile, the one that usually melts any resistance, but Anna doesn’t blink. She just stares at me, like she’s waiting for me to screw up.

Like she knows I will.

“I always show up,” I shrug a shoulder. “It’s kind of my thing.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile, but then she looks away, her expression hardening again. “This isn’t like taking a cheap shot in front of the net.” Her gaze flashes back to mine. “This weekend isn’t about you. It’s about getting this deal done. All you have to do is smile pretty for the camera and then you’re out of my hair.”

Every single muscle in my body twitches at the challenge in her tone. I never met a challenge I didn’t want to conquer.

Is that what this obsession with this woman is? Two years of pining for a woman who obviously hates me – is it just that I finally found something I couldn’t win?

I should just nod, keep my head down, and fucking leave it. By Monday night, she’ll be in my rear view, and I’ll be back on the ice.

I take a step towards her, intending to do just that, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she bites her lip and those golden eyes flicker. A second of vulnerability I would have missed if I hadn’t been watching her so closely.

I take another step, lowering my voice and deliberately brushing her arm with the wool of my coat. “Is that what you want, Anna? To watch me like you do from the sidelines?

She freezes, lifting her chin to meet my gaze head-on. “I’m not one of your rink rats, you arrogant, delusional man. I can replace you tomorrow with any other attractive athlete and not blink twice.”

“So, you admit you think I’m attractive.” I smile at the frosty glare she gives me. She’s the utmost professional, probably one of the classiest women I’ve ever met – which is saying something considering what an absolute brute her brother is – and I’d give anything to hear her internal thoughts out loud.

“I don’t think about you at all,” she says, her elegant accent clipping the words.

I know a lie when I hear one.

“It’s good to see you again, Anna.” I give up the fight and rudely let my eyes slide down her body because let’s face it, she expects the worst from me anyway. Might as well live up to my reputation.

“Hmm. Wish I could say the same.” She paints on an obviously fake, bright smile. “But for some reason, Luxx thinks you’re the best person to showcase their brand so here I am.”

Another guest in line steps around Anna, throwing me a real smile as she walks past. “If she’s not happy to see you, I bet you won’t have any trouble finding some friendly company.” She crooks an eyebrow. “I’ll be in the bar in about two hours.”

I smile back and wink. “I’ve got a work thing, but I’m sure you won’t be lonely.”

When I turn back, Anna’s scowling. She turns on her heels, with a sigh. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

I jog to catch up to her. “What are you talking about? Most people find me charming.”

But not Anna. When we met that night, two years ago, I could tell right away she wasn’t some puck bunny I could charm and ignore in the morning. At first, she didn’t even seem to notice me, but I’m not a guy who gives up, and the only option for me is winning, no matter what it takes.

And I wanted to win her over. I remember it so vividly. The second she walked in the room it was like the lights twinkled more brightly. Anna held herself with a quiet confidence, not drawing attention to herself, but her cool beauty did that anyway. I remember her simple red dress, legs for days, and her sharp, dry wit. It was clear she was smart, certainly smart enough to see through my bullshit, but I wasn’t giving up.

Slowly, I pulled a one reluctant smile from her and followed by another. Then, we discovered we shared a mutual love for Disney movies, and after she grilled me on Disney trivia, I was well on my way to assuming I had met my future wife, despite us not having exchanged names.

Until Felix sat down at our table, leveled me with an icy stare and made the formal introductions.

As Anna repeated my name, her warmth slipped away, and I knew I didn’t stand a chance a with her. Not then. Not ever.

Even knowing who she was, that weekend I couldn’t help myself, seeking her out every chance I got. She wasn’t immune to me either. Neither of us could deny the spark between us. The spark you only read about in fairytales. I felt it and it was real.

There was just something about her that hooked me hard. Something I couldn’t ignore.

Something that’s been eating at me ever since Felix made his feelings clear on the ice, with his fists and that goddamn trademark snarl every time he sees me. I’m used to his hits. Used to him chirping me. But when I waved at his sister during that exhibition game, I might as well have been waving a red flag in front of a demented bull.

I guess his message about Anna being off-limits was worth the double-minor that stuck him in the box for a full four.

The head butt should have knocked some sense into me. All it did was rachet up our long-standing vendetta a thousand percent.

But Felix isn’t here this weekend. And I’ll be spending the next few days working very closely with Anna.

If I won her over once, maybe I can do it again.