He’s a playboy hockey captain who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.

Totally not my type.

So my new job as his live-in assistant should be a breeze. Right?

Psht—please. Allow me to introduce Ronan Brighton.

Messy golden brown hair. Cheekbones cut from stone. Lips that were genetically-engineered for making out all night. And let’s not get started on his muscled-up body.

After a string of hockey losses and a bar brawl gone viral, I just got hired to be Ronan’s babysitter—erm, live-in assistant.

I’m determined to get the job done right. Because I won’t let this devilish troublemaker tear down the hockey team my...

He’s a playboy hockey captain who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.

Totally not my type.

So my new job as his live-in assistant should be a breeze. Right?

Psht—please. Allow me to introduce Ronan Brighton.

Messy golden brown hair. Cheekbones cut from stone. Lips that were genetically-engineered for making out all night. And let’s not get started on his muscled-up body.

After a string of hockey losses and a bar brawl gone viral, I just got hired to be Ronan’s babysitter—erm, live-in assistant.

I’m determined to get the job done right. Because I won’t let this devilish troublemaker tear down the hockey team my older brother just invested millions of dollars into.

So I establish a firm professional boundary with Ronan. A boundary he’s determined to cross with each glittering smile and every flirty remark.

Then he witnesses me getting brutally dumped on my birthday. And I’m forced to admit that the romance department is the one area of my life I’m struggling to figure out.

Ronan says I just need practice. A ‘study buddy’, if you will. Practice makes perfect, after all. And of course, Mr. Trouble volunteers for the part.

That’s how I become Ronan’s plaything and he becomes mine. But when the lines between ‘practice’ and ‘the real thing’ start to blur, my heart becomes involved.

And I’m beginning to realize that this thing between Ronan and me is no game at all.