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Chapter one

Riley: The Call

T he third buzz in my back pocket made the dogs flinch, and my blood pressure spike. Whatever it was, it could wait. I was elbow-deep in dog food, trying to coax a skittish terrier named Max to eat something other than the squeaky toys he kept hoarding under his bed.

The next buzz finally got to me, and I wiped my hands on my jeans before pulling it out. Ryan's name flashed on the screen. Of course. My brother only called when he needed something.

"What?" I answered, balancing the phone between my shoulder and ear as I scooped another handful of kibble.

"Riley, I need a favor." His voice was rushed, like he'd just run a marathon. "A big one."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess. You need me to dogsit again? Because I'm already at the shelter, and I'm not—"

"No, it's not that." He cut me off, and I froze. Ryan never interrupted me. Something was wrong.

"It's Colton."

The name hit me like a slap. Colton Hayes. My brother's best friend. The guy who used to crash on our couch during college breaks. The guy who always called me "sis" like he couldn't be bothered to remember my actual name.

The guy I'd spent most of high school crushing on.

I tried everything to get his attention.

I wore makeup for the first time. I learned hockey terminology.

I even stole Ryan's old jerseys to look the part.

I'd spend extra time fixing my hair before Ryan's friends came over, only to have Colton ruffle it like I was still a kid.

It was humiliating. But I kept trying, convinced that he'd eventually see me differently if I found the right way to fit into his world. And all for nothing. He'd pat me on the head like a kid and tell Ryan to keep me out of their way.

"What about him?"

"He's here in Silver Ridge. The team just assigned him to the AHL, and he's… well, he's a mess. You've seen the news, right?"

I had. It was hard to miss. Colton Hayes, the NHL's golden boy, had gone from scoring game-winning goals to making headlines for all the wrong reasons.

Party photos, late-night club scenes, and—worst of all—that scandal with the married woman.

The one that got him demoted. The one that made him a walking PR nightmare.

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling I knew where this was going.

"I need you to babysit him."

I nearly dropped the phone. "You're joking."

"I'm not. He's on thin ice with the team, and if he screws up again, he's done. I’m sending him to you."

"To me? Why me?"

"Because you're the only person I trust to keep him in line. You won't let him charm his way out of consequences. Colton needs someone who won’t tiptoe around him. And because you're the only one who’ll tell him the truth—even when he doesn’t want to hear it."

I laughed, but it came out more like a snort. "You're delusional. I'm not babysitting some washed-up hockey player who can't keep it together. I have a life, Ryan. A job. Dogs that need me."

"Come on, Ri. You've always had a soft spot for the broken ones—dogs and people."

He’d slipped right past logic and aimed straight for my soft spot. Typical.

"Riley, please." His voice softened, and I hated how effective that was. “He's my friend. And he's not a bad guy. Do you remember when Dad got sick, and Colton drove me back and forth to the hospital? He had my back then. I need you to have his now. Please."

Ugh. Why’d he have to bring that up?

Back then, I had watched Colton step up without hesitation. He used to take the late-night shifts so Mom could rest. When Ryan was overwhelmed, Colton would distract him with hockey talk. He hadn't asked for thanks—he'd just been there. And now Ryan wanted me to do the same for him.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the sound of the shelter door creaking open cut me off. I turned, and there he was.

Colton Hayes.

He looked different from what I remembered. Older, sharper, more… oh boy….everything.

His hair was still that perfect shade of blond, but it was longer now, messy in a way that looked intentional.

His jawline was sharper and his shoulders broader.

Of course, those ice-blue eyes I used to daydream about were as piercing as ever.

But there was something else in them now.

Not charm. Not swagger. Something bruised.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, sis. Reporting for duty. I have issues. You're supposed to cure me, right?"

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the phone. "Ryan, I'm going to kill you."

"Good luck," my brother said, and the line went dead.

Colton stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room like he owned the place. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides like he wasn't as confident as he wanted to seem. "So, this is where you work, huh? Cute."

I crossed my arms, refusing to let him rattle me. "What are you doing here, Colton?"

He flashed that smirk again. "Your brother didn't tell you? I'm your new project."

I hate how his smirk deepens his dimples. Great.

He stepped into the room. "Lucky you."

And just like that, the spell broke. Right—he’s still Colton.

I wanted to argue. To tell him to leave and never come back. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the way his confidence seemed too forced. Or how his eyes flickered to the dogs like he was interested.

OK, let's be honest. I am unable argue. My brain had temporarily stopped working and my traitorous heart skipped a beat when he looked at me.

"Fine," I said, though every part of me screamed not to. "But if you think I'm going to go easy on you, you're wrong."

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk still in place. "Wouldn't expect anything less, sis."

I gritted my teeth. "Don't call me that."

"What? Sis?" He took a step closer, and I caught a whiff of his cologne—something woodsy and way too expensive. "Why not? That's what you are, right? Ryan's little sister?"

I glared at him, refusing to back down. "Not anymore."

For a moment, he looked surprised. Then that smirk returned, and he leaned in just enough to make my pulse race. "Good to know."

I couldn't help but remember the last time I'd seen him.

It was the summer before my senior year of high school.

After winning a big college game, he'd shown up at our house with Ryan.

I'd spent the entire night trying to act casual.

I pretended I didn't notice how his laugh made my stomach flip.

And I tried not to see how his T-shirt clung to his shoulders after he'd gone for a run.

But he'd barely looked at me whenever we were in the same room. "Hey," he offered, barely glancing up as if I were just background noise. And just like that, my crush had been reduced to ash.

He was taller now, broader, with that same maddening smirk and a confidence that set my teeth on edge. But I wasn't some starry-eyed teenager anymore—and I wasn't here to swoon. I was here because Ryan asked. Because maybe, deep down, I believed people could change—even him.

Max let out a soft whine, and I reached through the bars without thinking, brushing his wiry fur with the back of my hand. Let Colton watch, I had more important things to do.

I had been in the middle of cleaning out Max's kennel when Ryan called. The little terrier had been through hell before he came to us. He had been abandoned, malnourished, and terrified of everything. But over the past few weeks, he'd started to trust me. He'd even let me pet him without flinching.

Moments like these reminded me why I did this job and gave up a cushy office gig to work long hours for barely enough pay to cover rent. These dogs needed someone to fight for them, and I was happy to be that person.

When Colton walked further into the room, Max immediately retreated to the corner of his kennel, his tail tucked between his legs. I shot Colton a glare. "You're scaring him."

Colton raised an eyebrow. "Me? I didn't even do anything."

"Exactly," I muttered, turning back to Max. "It's okay, buddy. He's just here to annoy us for a while. We'll survive."

Colton rested one shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "So, what's the plan, sis? Are you going to teach me how to play nice with the other kids?"

I rolled my eyes. "If by 'play nice' you mean stop getting photographed with married women, then yes. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

He winced, but it was gone in a flash, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "Ouch. Straight for the jugular, huh?"

"You brought it up," I said, returning to Max. "And don't call me sis. I'm not your sister."

"Fine. What should I call you, then? Riley? Riles? Dog Whisperer?"

I shot him a look. "How about 'the person who's about to make your life miserable'?"

He laughed, and the sound was low and warm, like the rumble of a distant thunderstorm. "I like you already."

The door creaked open again, and a tall woman stepped inside. She had perfectly styled hair and a notebook tucked under her arm. Her eyes lit up when she saw Colton, and I felt a surge of irritation I couldn't explain.

"Colton Hayes," she said, her voice smooth and practiced. "I’m Vanessa Carlisle. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Colton's smirk faltered for a moment before he turned to Vanessa. "This isn't the place for an interview. If you want to talk, I'll see if the team can set something up at the rink."

Vanessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between us. "And who's this?"

Colton opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. "Riley James. His babysitter."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. The media had circled Colton for weeks, sniffing out his next move like vultures. I shouldn't have been surprised she found him here, but its speed made my stomach twist.

"Interesting," she said, her voice dripping with curiosity. "A babysitter, huh? That's not what I've been told."

Colton stiffened, and I saw a crack in his armor for the first time. "What are you talking about?"

Vanessa smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Let's just say I have my sources. And they're very interested in what's really going on here."

Vanessa's gaze flicked between Colton and me.

As she walked away, Colton turned to me, his expression unreadable.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Colton Hayes was a walking headline. If I weren't careful, I'd end up in the middle of his mess.

But as much as I wanted to walk away, I couldn't. Not when Ryan had asked me for help. Not when Colton's smirk hid something that didn't match his attitude. Something I was going to get to the bottom of.

"Looks like we're stuck with each other," Colton said, his voice low. "Better get used to it."

He turned away before I could answer, but my pulse was already thudding in my ears.

Maybe I was imagining it, but there was something in his voice. It didn’t sound like teasing. It sounded like resignation. I’d been thinking I was the one getting stuck with a mess. Now I wasn’t so sure who felt more cornered.