My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegalâwe shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again.
I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!
This fellowship is going to be the longest ten months of my life. Mr. Perfect Mistake will do anything to get back on my good side. Meanwhile, his best friend is the surly new equipment manager always riding my case. Worst of all, I've got an uncooperative goalie who thinks I can't tell he's hiding an injury!
This is my chance to prove myself, and I'm not risking it for anything. But with one unexpected night, one secret revealed, these men are ready to test all my limits. I can't fall for a player . . . let alone three. But if love is a game, these guys are playing to win.
Why You Should Read This Book
Tropes
Trigger Warnings
Pucking Around
âBy choosing you, they chose your baggage too. Thatâs how grown-up relationships work, Rach. They donât get the girl without the drama. If all three of them are sticking, and you want them to stick, you gotta let them stick, babe.â
âI want you to kiss me like youâll die if you donât. Kiss me, and Iâll go back in there. Kiss me, and Iâll do the scans.â
âWeâll call this exposure therapy. Itâs one thing for Mars to say he wants you. But he doesnât get to take you away from us. And he doesnât get a nice, sterile version of our life where the only one who touches you in his presence is him.â
âIâm a double Cancer, which means Iâm an emotional fucking wreck of a human who cares too deeply and tries too hard. Maybe they shouldnât let double Cancers go to med school. But I did, and Iâm here, and I stand by my choices. I would make them again.â
âBut I think you might just see me for all that I hide. Youâre in this, Cay. With me. With us. Be my devil. Come dance with me in the dark.â
âOn your knees, Hurricane. Whores who like to get fucked get on their knees and beg for it.â
âAnd I donât just mean that I get to fuck you and hold you and orbit you like a satellite. I mean that youâre all fucking mine. Youâre my Seattle Girl. Wear my jersey, you better be ready to wear my ring and my name, because thatâs where this is going for me. Donât fucking tease me again unless youâre all the way there too.â
âItâs not fair. Heâs got all the smarts, and that weird surfer vampire vibe, and a kinky ribbed cock. Howâs a guy supposed to compete with a surfing, sun-kissed Edward Cullen?â
âDonât you fucking dare. Youâre staying right here, Hurricane. We want both our boys to see you just like this.â
âYou know I love you too, right? Iâm theirs. Theyâve claimed me and thereâs no letting go. But youâre mine. I claim you, Ilmari. No letting go.â
âPlace yourself in our care, and we will never stop fighting for you. We will never stray, never waver. We will seek no exit. Love us and watch how we love you in return. One family. One unit. Unbreakable.â
âIâm not giving up on us, Seattle. Weâre inevitable.â
âYour girl likes to be shared, Cay. She likes to be fucked. Separately, together. She wants you both to devour her.â
âYou really think I could forget my Seattle Girl? Baby, youâre all I think about.â
âImagine your cock buried to the hilt inside my cunt, Mars. Then Caleb slides in with his pierced dick, edging you to the point of euphoria. Thatâs when my pussy will strangle you both, and we all come together in a shaking, sweating pile of arms and legs and dripping cum. Thatâs DVP.â
âBecause, if she leaves us, she didnât love us enough to stay, respect us enough to let us make our own decisions, or want us enough to fight through this storm. My Hurricane is the fucking storm. When she remembers that fact, sheâll come down those stairs and stir us all up.â
âI want you so goddamn much. I need you, Seattle. Miss you. Need to fuck you. Now.â
âYou want to know where this is going. You donât care about whatever vague visions of the future we saw for ourselves with some faceless hot wife and bratty kids. You want to know whether we see you. Whether we see thisâŠwhatever this is.â
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