A DEAL WITH THE HOCKEY CAPTAIN 🏒

The lights were too bright, the music too loud, and the laughter downstairs too fake for Eden to breathe properly. Her eighteenth birthday wasn’t supposed to feel like this. She stood in front of the upstairs bathroom mirror, alone, trembling, her fingers nervously adjusting the thin strap of the baby-pink silk dress hugging her soft curves. The fabric clung to her hips like a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. Her lips, painted a shy cherry red, trembled around the words she’d practiced all week. “I saved myself for you.” Her eyes closed. “I kept it for you, Liam…” She whispered it again and again until her voice cracked. He was downstairs. Somewhere. Laughing, drinking, maybe flirting with another girl in a tight dress and too much lip gloss. She had waited all night for a moment alone with him. She had planned it perfectly—her makeup, her dress, her gift, her confession. The boy she’d loved since she was fourteen. The same boy who still didn’t know. And now, four hours into her own birthday party, she knew. He wasn’t coming for her. Not the way she hoped. She blinked at her reflection, throat tight. Maybe she was never meant to be one of those girls—confident, touchable, desirable. Maybe Liam only saw her as sweet Eden. Innocent Eden. His best friend's little sister. Not the woman she had become. The woman willing to give him everything. A sound behind her made her freeze. The bathroom door hadn’t clicked shut all the way. Slow, heavy footsteps padded over the carpet. Her stomach dropped as she turned. And then it dropped even further when she saw him leaning casually against the doorframe. Hunter Cross. Captain of the university hockey team. Six-foot-four of cold-blooded swagger. Tattoos on his arms, smirk on his lips, and danger in his every breath. Her brother’s rival. Every girl’s reckless fantasy. And the last man she ever wanted to see her like this. His eyes dragged down the length of her body, taking in every inch of exposed thigh, every shiver in her breath, every trace of heartbreak she hadn’t managed to wipe off her face. “Nice dress,” he said, his voice dark and lazy. “Is that for me?” Eden turned away too fast, cheeks burning. “What are you doing up here?” He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a solid click. “Avoiding people. Same as you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not meeting his gaze. “I’m fine.” “No, you’re not.” He said it too casually, like he saw through her soul and didn’t care that it hurt. She swallowed. “Don’t you have a girl to screw tonight?” “Maybe I already did.” She flinched. He laughed softly and leaned against the vanity, arms folded. “Let me guess. You dressed up to finally tell Golden Boy Liam how much you love him. Planned the whole night out. He looked in the mirror ten times, picked the right lipstick, and tried to walk like one of those girls he likes to grab at parties.” Eden’s fingers curled into fists. “Bet you were gonna tell him you’ve never been touched. That you saved yourself for him like some fairytale fantasy.” Her heart stopped. He tilted his head. “How close am I?” She didn’t say a word. “You poor, stupid girl,” he murmured. “You really thought that would work on a guy like Liam?” “I’m not stupid,” she whispered, shaking. “No,” he said, pushing off the sink and stepping toward her. “You’re just too sweet for your own good. And you’re going to get your heart shredded if you keep chasing him with nothing but wide eyes and virgin lips.” “I just wanted to feel like I was enough,” she said softly. Hunter stopped in front of her, towering over her. “Then maybe it’s time you learned how to become enough.” She blinked up at him. “Let me teach you.” Her throat dried. “What?” “You want to make Liam want you? Fine. But you need to learn how to flirt. How to move. How to kiss. How to talk like a woman who can make a man’s head spin just by looking at him.” Her heart pounded. “You’re not serious.” “I am. Let me turn you into his fantasy.” “Why would you do that?” Hunter smiled, wicked and low. “Because I want to know what it’s like to touch a girl who’s still soft. Still honest. Still clean.” She stepped back. He followed. “And because if I’m going to teach you…” He leaned in, his voice lowering to a dangerous purr, “…you’re going to learn on me.” She swallowed hard. “W-What does that mean?” “It means for the next thirty days, you’re mine. Do you want to learn how to seduce him? You’ll practice every move with me. Every kiss, every touch. Everything he gets later—I get first.” Her legs weakened. “You’re insane.” “No,” he said, eyes burning into hers. “I’m offering you a deal.” He leaned close, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Say yes, and I’ll make you unforgettable.”

Eden stared at her reflection in the locker room mirror, hands braced against the cold ceramic sink. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips still slightly parted, and her thighs… Still trembling. She hadn’t touched herself. Not even once. Even though she’d wanted to. Even though her body was screaming for it. Because it wasn’t just lust anymore. It was him. It was always him. She looked down at the faint red marks on her neck, the ghost of Hunter’s mouth—and her stomach twisted with both shame and something dangerously close to longing. And still… he wasn’t hers. Not really. Because he didn’t know her secret. No one did. Not the girls in class who gossiped about him. Not the coaches who watched him skate like a god. Not even her closest friend. Eden had been in love with Hunter Grayson since she was fifteen years old. She’d hidden it like a sin, buried it under years of silence. But when he offered to “train” her—when he’d whispered promises of touch and fire and power—she thought, maybe