Cold Friction
Crystal Myronthe hockey star's remorsewooed back by the hockey stari fell into the game with instant killafter a one night stand, the hockey alpha wants me
JULIAN
The ambient temperature of the university ice rink was kept at a strict forty-two degrees, but as I stepped out of the tunnel at five in the morning, it wasn’t cold enough. I needed it colder. I needed the chill to sink through my thermal base layer, pierce my muscle tissue, and freeze the marrow in my bones.
I needed it to extinguish the heat of Kael Sterling’s wet, gear-clad body pressing me into the shower tiles.
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