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Chapter 1
PK
Being retired sucked. PK never wanted to retire. Well, semi-retire. He wasn’t done yet. Now that his knee was healed after the surgery that curtailed last season, there was some hope he could actually get a two-way contract in the NHL and AHL. But getting signed this late in the year was still a risk. He probably should have signed the deal to play in the Swiss league—or even the KHL—when they offered them, but he wanted to wait until he was discharged from rehab before moving to Europe. Hell, what he really wanted was to continue playing for the Cleveland Sound.
Thankfully, he was feeling stronger than ever, in part due to the program his old strength and conditioning coach had created. The surgery worked, and in addition to repairing the tears, it felt like some of the gunk that would slow him down was finally out of his knees and he could really play again. He just needed to be given a chance. He would sign anything in the NHL: a PTO (personal try-out), a league minimum contract, or a two-way deal that meant time in the AHL.
It was weird as all hell to be in Texas for the Christmas holidays. Playing the majority of his career in Cleveland, he always had a white Christmas. But the lack of snow for the holidays just felt wrong to him. He moved to Bourbon, Texas after finding out a ton of elite hockey coaches had taken up residency in the Texas area and one of his best friends, Kai, had moved into a sweet apartment complex. He decided to take the plunge and get a place in the same complex a few years ago.
He had to admit, the move to Texas had worked out great for his love of beautiful, smart, curvy girls. The hottest among them had to be his next-door neighbor, Clarissa Evans. Too bad she was also an epic pain in the ass. She basically hated everything about him.
Now that he was done with his morning workout, his major plans for the day were to fill the time while he waited until it was time to go back to the rink and then hang out with Kai and some friends at the bar afterwards. PK started with studying various brewing methods for craft beer, but he and chemistry had never really gotten along. It was probably a terrible idea to even think that he could start a brewery, but bad ideas had never stopped him before.
He needed a study break, so he sat behind one of his prized possessions: his drums. They gave him a way to decompress and just get lost in the beat. It wasn't like he wanted to start a band or anything. It was just something he did for fun, no matter what people thought. Although, he'd been occasionally filling in for a few bands in town after a very successful yet very drunk open mic night. Hell, that drunken night was the reason why Kai wanted him to provide the music for the toy charity drive that Kai and Alayna were putting on.
He paused his drumming just long enough to hear an angry pounding on the door.
He rolled his eyes, since he knew who would be on the other side of the door. The only person bold enough to actually confront him would be the lovely Clarissa.
He got up from the drums to open the door. There she was. She was wearing a little black dress that seemed to hug her beautiful curves. She could easily be a plus-size model if it wasn't for the fact that she always had a sour expression on her face. Although, he'd seen her smiling poolside when talking to that Blair girl. He loved how round Clarissa’s breasts and ass were, and hmmm, that hourglass waist would be perfect to wrap an arm around.
Trying to play it cool, he said, "Can I help you?"
"Can't you keep it down just once in your life?"
He was a little taken aback. When the hell was he supposed to play his drums? She bitched at him for playing too late in the evening, and he had to agree it was an asshole move to play them at 2 a.m. But it was just barely 1 p.m.
"Um, no. I need to practice for a gig."
She looked up to the sky and clenched her hands into fists. She was clearly annoyed. "Well, unlike you, some people have to work."
"Yeah, ‘cause working as a travel blogger is such a hard job." He knew that was a low blow, but he was pissed off. He was literally doing what was approved by law—and, most importantly, Fitzy the landlord—so he could help a charity and not sound awful.
Of course, his choice of words didn't go down well. Her nostrils flared, and her lips turned pencil thin as she controlled her anger. "Well, not everyone can have a cushy job of doing nothing all day. Not that you ever worked a real job in your life."
Yup. They knew how to push each other's buttons. He hated when people didn't understand how hard of a job it was to be a professional athlete. He couldn't be mediocre. It was about being the best. It was how he got to help both his teams win a total of three Stanley Cups.
"Sorry,” he said, “I want to sound good when I'm playing at the toy charity drive later on this month. If you have a problem with my playing, take it up with Fitzy."
He slammed the door shut. He was done talking to Clarissa. She was one of the most infuriating people on the planet. It didn't matter that she was so damn sexy.
Because he was annoyed, he sat down at his drums and started to really try to make some noise. He stopped short of turning on the mics and playing around with his amps.
Clarissa
Clarissa was livid after PK slammed the door in her face. She had a deadline for an article with Travel & Leisure magazine. They were trying her out for a monthly column in the magazine. While she had a huge following on both her social media channels and her travel blog, getting that column would be a huge feather in her cap.
Thanks to PK's constant drumming, she couldn't even think straight. He was such an ass. A very sexy ass.
God, now she was thinking about his butt. It was such a great butt. Why did hockey players always have such amazing bodies?
It was time to talk to Fitzy to see if there was something that could actually be done about PK's drumming. At least until she hit this deadline. She just needed three days of peace and quiet to write.
She went straight to the pool, since that was Fitzy's favorite hangout.
Of course, Fitzy lounged in a colorful sarong and had a margarita in her hand. Clarissa had to hand it to Fitzy, the woman was living her best life. Routine day-drinking. Living in one of the nicest complexes in Bourbon, Texas. Just being a badass. She always had a wealth of advice and didn't give a shit about hurting people's feelings. According to Blair, she also had a knack for matchmaking.
Clarissa walked straight up to Fitzy.
