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Chapter 1 (Valentina's POV)

"Yes, Watson. I know the first game is tomorrow. I will be there. Like I always am."

That's how every winter started for me. With my boss making sure I don't miss the beginning of hockey season.

Let me tell you a little secret. I hate hockey.

Well, honestly it's not really hockey I hate. It's the hockey players. They are a bunch of arrogant self-entitled idiots who think they are better than the rest of the world.

And that's my experience with them for the last 10 years of working in this line of work.

So anyone trying to change my mind would need to try really hard. And still, I doubt it would work.

Sure they were good eye candy but that's it.

And to their defense, I can say they were mostly smart guys actually. But what I don't understand is that they refuse to use that smartness. They rather play the dumb athlete cards.

Which is why we never get along well.

I refuse to act shy or dumb because I am anything but that. I am smart and am not afraid to show that. One of my best qualities is also that I hardly ever stay without a comeback. So you could pretty much say I don't stay quiet when something disturbs me.

Of course, people find me annoying and call me a bitch many times, either to my face or once I turn around. But I don't care.

So back to the topic at hand. 

I had to get myself together before tomorrow night and be on my best behavior for the game.

So far I managed to accomplish just that every year, but this year it would be a bit different.

The team that was assigned to me for observing and writing about is getting a new player.

And new players were never good news for a reporter like me.

You see in the winter I had nothing else on my agenda but to follow the Hawks, that's my assigned team. Mostly they were nice to me, so they made my hell a bit more bearable, but seeing them with others especially with the female population immediately ruined what good points they got in my books.

So pretty much they were ok to be friends with, but I would never fall in love or into bed with any of them.

My first rule was always that my career comes first and I managed to stick to that rule so far perfectly. 

My dating life was pretty much non-existent and my boyfriend existed only in my dreams.

Who would want to date a workaholic after all? Especially during winter seasons when I had to follow around a bunch of guys. A bunch of hot guys to be specific.

So no. No dating for me.

As I was getting things ready for the next day, meaning my notebook, a bunch of pens in case one fails me, a dictaphone for the interviews afterward…I caught myself wondering what the new player would be like.

Yes of course I did thorough research on him already. I am not dumb! 

But there was no dirt on this man.

His name was Nathaniel Madox, he was from Canada, which means he was born with a hockey stick.

But why he was coming to Europe was a mystery to me.

Well, if I thought about it a bit better it actually made sense. In Europe, good hockey players were hard to find. Sure we had many hockey players and they were not bad players, but neither were they excellent. They were…average. And statistics on this Madox guy were actually amazing. So even if I hated hockey, I could still admire good players when I spotted them. And he was an excellent player judging by his statistics.

What was lacking though was a social life. There were no pictures of him in any social events, no girlfriend, no pets, no interviews…nothing!

So I was determined to find out as much as I could once I met him.

This interview could help me get the job I so desperately wanted for years. I wanted to become a journalist for national television. Even though I liked my job here at this little news station, I always tried to go bigger and better. And I could feel, that this interview would get me what I wanted.

So there was no backing down, no quitting, just pure determination to achieve my goal.

And yes I do realize I said I hate hockey players, hockey, and everything related to them and that statement still stands, but I also wanted to prove myself and get that job on national television.

So I had no other option but to swallow my pride, grit my teeth, and go for it. 

Still, I couldn't stop thinking about this Madox guy. He was hot even for a hockey player. I was kind of used to being around hot guys since I dealt with them on a daily basis, in summers I even saw more bare-chested men than most women saw on the beach. But something about Nathaniel just pulled me in. And somehow I had a feeling it wasn't just the interview I wanted from him. There was something else.

He had the most intense green eyes I have ever seen. If you looked closer, it felt like he was looking into your soul.

And I could feel that through pictures, so you can understand I wondered if it felt the same in person.

I should probably hate him just on instinct because he was a hockey player, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to hate him like I hated every other player.

And I hated myself because I couldn't hate him.

Damn you Nataniel Madox! 

I hope you turn out to be the biggest asshole in the world so I have an excuse to hate you!

A girl can hope, right? 

Nothing wrong with having wishful thoughts.

So I convinced myself that yes. He would most likely prove to me that he was just another idiot, who was completely self-centered and egoistic, who didn't think about anything else but playing hockey, partying, and following those puck bunnies around like a lost puppy.

You guessed correctly. That was my definition for mostly every hockey player.

There were just a few exceptions, and those were good friends of mine and we made a pact to never cross that line.

Well, no point in getting a headache because of a dumb hockey player.

Better get some sleep and tomorrow will be a new day.

A better day.

Right?