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Instead, for the first time since Quinn Brennan looked me straight in the eye and told me exactly why she wants nothing to do with me, I know what I’m going to do about it.

I’m not going to convince her with another kiss.

I’m not going to flirt her into changing her mind.

And I’m definitely not going to let her keep believing I’m exactly the guy she’s already decided I am.

She doesn’t want a puck bunny kind of thing?

Good.

Neither do I.

Not with her.

I grab my stick and head for the tunnel.

Quinn Brennan wants proof there’s more to me than the player she thinks she knows.

Guess I’ll have to give it to her.

5

QUINN

Sitter Emergency

Four days. Four full days without setting foot in that building, and I've started thinking of it as a personal record, the kind of thing you'd frame if it were an actual achievement and not just me being a coward with excellent time management.

Nadia called my decision to avoid Wyatt Larkin “very healthy” in a voice that meant the opposite.

I ignored her.

Four days.

Four entire days of not running into him, not talking to him, and definitely not replaying that stupid kiss on the Ferris wheel.

Well.

Two out of three isn't bad.

The entire team is leaving for an away game today, which means I have a few glorious days ahead of me without the possibility of accidentally running into Wyatt somewhere.

No rink. No hockey players. No obnoxious Wyatt with an equally obnoxious grin.

It's a solid plan.

I'm still congratulating myself on this small miracle of self-control when my phone starts ringing on the kitchen counter.

An unfamiliar number.

I consider ignoring it, but it could be something important.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Quinn.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. I close my eyes. I recognize his voice.