Chapter 3

Kellan’s Pov

Her words felt like a physical slap across my face. “You could be the last man on earth, Kellan West, and I still wouldn't date you.”

I stood frozen in the middle of the crowded hotel ballroom, watching Sasha's back as she stormed out the glass doors.

For the first time in my entire life, a woman had rejected me, walked away, and left me completely speechless. Usually, girls laughed at my jokes, smiled at my winks, and practically tripped over themselves just to get a text back.

But Sasha Reed? She looked at me like I had a bad smell, and no matter what I did, I could not charm my way past her walls.

"Whoa, man. You look like you just got hit by a truck," Marcus said, dropping a heavy hand onto my shoulder.

I blinked, pulling myself out of my daze, and turned to look at my teammates. Marcus, our alternate captain, was grinning from ear to ear, holding a glass of sparkling water.

Behind him, three other guys from the team—Luke, Tyler, and Noah—were watching me with massive grins on their faces. They had seen the whole thing.

"Shut up, Marcus," I muttered, shaking his hand off my shoulder and grabbing a fresh drink from a passing waiter's tray. I downed it in one gulp, trying to cool the sudden fire burning in my chest.

"No, seriously, Kellan, look at you!" Luke laughed, leaning against the marble pillar. "For two weeks, you have been chasing around that little photographer like a lost puppy. And every single time, she shoots you down like a fighter jet. I have never seen anyone talk to the great Kellan West that way."

"She is just playing hard to get," Tyler chimed in, crossing his arms. "They all do that. She wants to see if you will throw a bigger party or buy her an expensive purse."

"No, she doesn't," I snapped, my voice rising a little sharper than I intended. The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a knowing grin. "Oh? So you admit she's different? Admit it, Kellan. Little Miss Photographer has finally gotten right under your skin."

"She hasn't gotten under my skin," I lied instantly, though my pulse raced at the sound of her name. "She is just annoying. She thinks she knows everything about me. She thinks my whole life was handed to me on a silver platter just because of my last name."

"Well, to be fair, bro..." Noah chuckled, pointing a finger at me. "You “are” rich, you “are” famous, and you “are” the captain of the best hockey team in the country. Girls don't look at you for your charming personality. They look at your bank account and your face on the billboards."

That hit a raw nerve. It was the exact same thing Sasha had accused me of. For years, I hated wondering if people only liked me because I was a West or because I played professional hockey. I always wanted someone to like me for “me”, not for my money or my fame. Hearing my own teammates say it out loud made my blood boil.

"That is not true," I argued, stepping closer to them. "I could make any woman fall for me. And I could do it without a single dollar, without my fame, and without my last name."

Marcus let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. "Oh, really? Is that a challenge? Because I would love to see you try. Prove it, then."

"What do you mean, prove it?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

Marcus stepped right up to me, his competitive streak kicking in. "I mean, let us make a bet. A real billionaire bet. You think you can charm any woman without your money or your celebrity status? Let us see you try it with the one woman who hates your guts."

I stared at him. "Who?"

Marcus grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sasha Reed."

The whole group went silent for a second. Then Luke burst out laughing. "Oh man, Sasha? That is brutal. She would literally rather chew glass than go on a date with Kellan!"

"Are you crazy?" I stared at Marcus, shaking my head. "She hates my guts! She told me five minutes ago that she would not date me if I were the last man on earth!"

"Exactly," Marcus said, raising his glass like he was making a toast. "Which makes it the ultimate test. Three months, Kellan. You have three months to make Sasha Reed genuinely fall in love with you. But here are the rules: no expensive gifts, no fancy cars, no showing off your wealth, and no using your hockey celebrity status. You have to win her heart completely on your own, as a normal guy."

I stared at him, my mind racing. Three months? Make Sasha fall for me without any of my usual tricks? It sounded completely impossible. She was stubborn, fierce, and allergic to anything related to wealthy hockey players.

"And if you win?" Tyler asked, leaning in. "We pay you a massive amount of cash, and we admit you are the greatest player of all time. But if you lose…”

"If I lose?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

"You have to admit in front of the entire team that Sasha was the one woman in the world you could not win over," Marcus said with a wide grin. "And you have to buy dinner for the whole locker room for a month."

My pride flared up instantly. Me? Lose a challenge? Especially when it came to a girl who looked at me like I was a pest? No way. I had never backed down from a challenge on the ice, and I was not about to start off the ice either.

"You're on," I said firmly, holding out my hand.

Marcus looked surprised that I actually agreed, but he quickly shook my hand to seal the deal.

"Three months, Kellan. Clock starts tomorrow."

The rest of the night dragged on, but my mind was completely scrambled. As soon as the party ended, I grabbed my jacket and drove back to my apartment.

The city streets were dark and quiet. I walked into my empty living room, tossed my keys onto the counter, and collapsed onto the couch.

I pulled out my phone, unlocking the screen.

My wallpaper was still the team photo from earlier that week, but I swiped through my camera roll until I found a candid picture I had secretly snapped of Sasha on my phone during our first day at the rink.

In the photo, she wasn't smiling. She was standing behind her camera tripod, her dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, glaring straight at the lens with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked angry, beautiful, fierce, and completely real.

I stared at her face on the bright screen, a slow, confident smile spreading across my lips.

Everyone thought I was going to fail. They thought Sasha was impossible. But looking at her fierce green eyes, I realized something important: she wasn't like all the other girls who just rolled over for me.

Winning her over wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in a long time, something in my life actually felt exciting.

I traced my thumb over the screen, whispering softly into the quiet room.

"Game on, Sasha."