There’s a monster in my pants. It won’t play nice, act soft, or be your BFF. But it will blow your mother-pucking mind.
I’m the guy who arrives with girl A and leaves with girls B and C.
A hockey rockstar. An ice-cold scoring machine.
I thought coaching the NHL’s newest team would be a walk in the park. I didn’t expect the exquisite torture that is Rae Walsh.
She’s a pocket rocket of a PR stunt, our latest recruit with a pretty mouth and tight little body to match. She’ll be the only woman in the league, which means she’s a) completely insane, and b) about to enter a world of pain.
I don’t need that kind of distraction, not when I’m yet to prove my coaching chops. But the more I resist the more I want to pin her down and prove why I’m the best in the game.
Getting together would be career suicide. I’d be risking everything to be with her, my legacy included. But sometimes the risk really is worth the reward.
Sometimes you’ve got to bet everything to score BIG.