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She had looked straight at him with those kind eyes and her sweetness had shot straight into his hurting soul. Then she’d put him on the spot and he’d reacted. Without thinking, he’d made a choice. Reveal this vulnerability in front of his new teammates, or crack a joke—at her expense?

Because he was a hockey player, in a room filled with other jocks, he’d chosen the latter. He’d chosen survival.

He’d made her rules and recipes the butt of a joke that had immediately solidified his image with this team as a devil-may-care rule-breaker.

He wanted a do-over.

There was something about Athena Gavras that ripped him open.

It was as though all the stuff he’d jammed inside, hidden behind concrete walls and forgotten about, tumbled out whenever she was around.

He hated that sensation of the earth sliding out from underfoot.

The balancing he had to do around her. One step too far and he’d be at her feet, raw and vulnerable.

One step in the other direction and she’d never speak to him again.

He sucked in a slow breath and forced himself to walk away from her office. He needed to find Coach Louis and explain the whole off-the-dietician’s-roster situation.

Hey, Louis, man. Yeah, this hiccup with Athena? It’s just a personality conflict. But I’m following the plan, so no big deal if I skip the appointments, right?

The problem was that once he’d made a show of giving her attitude, it had become a thing—his thing. Nobody would believe he secretly followed her nutrition guidance to a T. Not even Coach.

Athena should have cut him from her appointment book months ago.

Mullens mulled over his problem as he headed deeper into the arena, toward Louis’s office.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his agent.

“What’s Athena Gavras working on with her publisher? And how do I get in on it?”

“Pretty sure that window’s closed,” Rafard replied, unfazed by Mullens’ abruptness.

“She said I was invited.”

“Small fish. Not your thing.”

That sounded similar to something he may have parroted to Rafard. Or maybe his agent knew him well and was preemptively striking deals without telling him about them?

The man did work closely with Mullens’ business manager, and some weeks an overwhelming amount of proposals flew back and forth among the three of them. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to leave Mullens out of the loop from time to time.

“What’s it called?” he asked.

“Let me see if I can find it.” The sound of fingers dancing over a keyboard came through his phone. “Here we go. From late September. It went out to the whole team. The NHL cookbook: Eat like a Player . You said no.”

“Right. Well, I want to be on the cover. Or inside it. In the commercials. Whatever she needs.”

“This isn’t your brand.” His agent’s tone turned dismissive. “And the pay is literally peanuts. It’s not what you’re looking for in terms of financial incentive or visibility.”

“Get me on the cover.”

“Not your image,” Rafard stated curtly.

“So make the book my image.”

“It’s her project,” he replied patiently. “Not yours. And as for your image, we’ve worked really hard on it for years. It’s not going anywhere. And certainly not for some cookbook.”

Mullens pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed time with Athena. Not only because she was curvy and gorgeous and he couldn’t figure out how to get her to like him. But also because he needed her help to save his career. Possibly literally.

Showing her a little respect would probably be a good start….

“I need to play nice with her.”

“She knocked up?”

“No,” he replied sharply. Man, his business manager really had done a bang-up job of cementing Mullens’ image. For the past several years he’d loved it. At the moment, though, not so much. He sighed. “Just make it happen, Rafard.”

He hung up and rounded the last corner to the coach’s office.

What was he going to do? His usual charm didn’t work on Athena. He’d called her bluff, and she’d struck—hard.

He loved her for it, even though it created a pit of fear in his stomach. How could she, the team’s dietician, hold such important cards? And why couldn’t he have just kept his head down and his mouth shut the day they’d met? Why had he reacted like such an unstable teenaged boy?

He reached Louis’s dark office and tried the handle. Locked. Ever since Coach had moved back to Sweetheart Creek he was barely around. Rumor was he had his heart set on some chick from his past.

But Louis? The idea of him forsaking work to chase some gal was almost laughable. The whole thing about the woman was likely just that—a rumor.

Mullens’ phone rang. It was Rafard.

“That was fast.”

“Dude, don’t hang up on me.”

“Sorry.”

“I need to know what you’re willing to offer.”

“What do you mean?”

“A carrot. For the publisher. Something big to get you in on this project—assuming it hasn’t already gone to print.”

“It hasn’t.” He hoped. “Give her whatever she needs.”

Athena would see right through his ploy to get into her cookbook, but it was the best plan he had.

“And Rafard? Tell her my proceeds will go toward feeding hungry kids.”