FU HOCKEY

They say age doesn't matter. I could argue that it does. The ten years separating Stella Cruz and I matter a whole hell of a lot. She has a year of college left—two entire semesters to enjoy being the star pitcher of Fulton University—and I have another Cup to win. Hockey leaves no room for anything else, not even someone as incredible as Stella. So, I left her in my bed. Out of sight, out of . . . sight. Because I damn sure can't get her out of my mind.

Everyone says time heals all wounds. That's a lie. Six months ago, Jason Dagger left me in Boston after one of the best weekends of my life. Shut me down when I tried to reach out. He didn't call, didn't text, didn't even wave at the camera when it panned over to him during one of his hockey games. Nothing . . . until he shows up at my job one night demanding and sexy. Jason's back and he's not making anything easy for me. I don't know if I'm happy or mad about it.