Fresh out of a failed marriage and with an old injury threatening to resurface, I only have one priority right now: rebuild my life both in and out of the rink. At thirty-five, I know it won’t be easy, but hockey is all I have, and cutting my pro career short is not an option that I’m willing to take.
Feeling down on my luck, I conclude my best move is to focus on the positives, including the good people around me. So when a close friend approaches me with a predicament concerning his twenty-one-year-old only daughter, Billie Quinn, I figure the least I can do is help his family out. After all, they’re practically my family, too, and being a decent friend always makes me feel good.
Except, I’m not a good friend; I’m a bad one. While my initial intentions might’ve been innocent, my attraction to Billie when I see her for the first time in over three years definitely isn’t.
Is she into me too? Or am I grasping at straws, interpreting fleeting glances from a stunning younger woman as more than friendship? We’ve always had banter, although there’s nothing funny about the burning tension growing between us and especially when my ex-wife is in the same room.
My teammates are urging me to back off before it’s too late. But staying away from my best friend’s little princess is way harder than it should be … and now that she’s in my bed, there’s not a chance I’m letting Billie—or her baby girl—go.
Even if us being together makes me the worst friend in history, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.
