Ottawa Regents Series by Ruby Rana

Landon. So much for being the golden boy. Once-fawning press called me the rising star of the NHL. Now they get their rocks off on the viral snap shot of my buck-naked ass mashed up against my penthouse window and between an attention-hungry woman's legs. Goodbye, post-season winning streak. Goodbye, Stanley Cup. Goodbye, dating - not that I was doing much of that before . My agent promises to make the rumors disappear by hiring the best lawyer in Ottawa... moreLandon. So much for being the golden boy. Once-fawning press called me the rising star of the NHL. Now they get their rocks off on the viral snap shot of my buck-naked ass mashed up against my penthouse window and between an attention-hungry woman's legs. Goodbye, post-season winning streak. Goodbye, Stanley Cup. Goodbye, dating - not that I was doing much of that before . My agent promises to make the rumors disappear by hiring the best lawyer in Ottawa. But Indira Davé's no longer the quiet, gawky goalie I played with in grade seven. She's all confidence and drive-you-insane curves. And that smart mouth of hers has me thinking about a thousand ways I could shut it up. Or have it scream my name. She doesn’t trust me, but I can't unsee the real Indi. And if she lets me in, I'll never let her go. Indi. Nope. There's no way I still have that pubescent crush on Landon Radek. So what if he's outrageously good-looking? I won’t fall for his charm or dimpled smile this time. I'm his lawyer. He's my lying-through-his-teeth client. And I hate him. For reasons I’d rather leave in the past. A half-bottle of red wine has me blurting a precious secret and Landon comes up with a filthy proposition. If I accept it - BIG if with a capital I - I have strict rules. Feelings are an absolute no-go. Both of our careers hinge on the utmost discretion. But the more he proves he’s still the boy I adored many years ago, the less control I have over my well-protected heart. less

Wade. I’ve been pissing off Gabe Finch since her first NHL press conference. The snarky sportscaster hates my guts—hungry kisses and an unforgettable night don’t change that—and I can’t get her out of my head. When her cheating ex-fiancé won’t leave her alone, a protective instinct possesses me to butt in and pretend to be her boyfriend. Big mistake. Paparazzi capture our exit from the crowded club, and now, our PR teams want us to fake-date for clout. Should be easy. I can do fake... moreWade. I’ve been pissing off Gabe Finch since her first NHL press conference. The snarky sportscaster hates my guts—hungry kisses and an unforgettable night don’t change that—and I can’t get her out of my head. When her cheating ex-fiancé won’t leave her alone, a protective instinct possesses me to butt in and pretend to be her boyfriend. Big mistake. Paparazzi capture our exit from the crowded club, and now, our PR teams want us to fake-date for clout. Should be easy. I can do fake. I’ve faked who I am for years. But with Gabe, everything feels too real, and the façade quickly crumbles despite my usual safeguards. Maybe for her, I want it to. Gabe. Wade Boehner is a decent goalie, but wholly unserious and far too arrogant. Plus his frontal lobe only reached maturity, like, yesterday. I probably need my brain scanned, too. My impulse control short-circuits whenever the handsome idiot struts around. One angry New Year’s Eve kiss, one night together last summer, and one whiskey-fueled performance as his girlfriend top the list of my poor decisions. Our bosses want to take advantage of the situation, so for the next four months, Wade & I have to play the happy couple without killing each other. Totally doable, if he could keep his yapper shut and grubby paws to himself. But no, the annoying show-off wants hand-holding and lovey-dovey gestures broadcast on the Jumbotron. Worst of all? When we’re alone, he slips me glimpses of the real Wade, and I’m afraid of what I’ll feel if I let myself believe he’s more than a brainless, carefree jock. less

Fletcher. Nine years as a center on the Ottawa Regents and I’ve got nearly nothing to show for it. Sure, we won a few championships, but not recently. My teammates don’t seem to be bothered by the fear that we’ve peaked. They’re still leaders in the league and off the ice and have adoring wives and beautiful children to come home to. Me? I’m a failure to launch in both my career and love life. These days, all I’m good at is getting lost in a book and admiring Behraz Irani from afar... moreFletcher. Nine years as a center on the Ottawa Regents and I’ve got nearly nothing to show for it. Sure, we won a few championships, but not recently. My teammates don’t seem to be bothered by the fear that we’ve peaked. They’re still leaders in the league and off the ice and have adoring wives and beautiful children to come home to. Me? I’m a failure to launch in both my career and love life. These days, all I’m good at is getting lost in a book and admiring Behraz Irani from afar. She’s a perfect, unreachable fantasy, a social butterfly with pure joy sparking in her bright eyes. Our paths often cross through mutual friends and the thought of speaking to her gives me heart palpitations. But when she runs into me with her bike, it stops my heart entirely. Behraz. Life seems to enjoy taking me for a joy ride after my family moves abroad. It’s bad enough that I drain my savings only to fail the bar exam three times, but discovering my academic woes are likely due to a newly diagnosed learning disability and ADHD, then getting evicted from my latest sublease is an unexpected double-whammy. Then I go and maim the hottest player on my hometown’s NHL team: Fletcher Donovan. I’ve given him a severe concussion and somehow, I’m the only adult available during his recovery. This isn’t how I imagined spending time with the man of my dreams, but desperate times call for desperate temporary housing, and living together is far from the worst thing that could happen. In fact, it might be the best choice I’ve ever made. less