William Graham wasn’t the regular type of athlete. Not the cocky, self-absorbed kind who strutted around campus like they owned the place. He didn’t need to.

He was smarter than people expected—quieter, too. Off the ice, he was all polished manners and easy charm, the kind of guy who could hold a conversation about politics with a professor and then turn around and spend an hour teaching a freshman how to perfect their slapshot. On the ice? He was something else entirely. Fast, ruthless, focused.

And, as if he wasn’t already the perfect catch, he was also the senator’s son.

So, really, could I blame anyone for wanting him?

It wasn’t even jealousy, not exactly. It was just a fact. I saw the way people looked at him. The way girls straightened their backs and lowered their voices when he passed by, like they were subconsciously angling for his attention. The way guys gravitated toward him, hoping some of his effortless cool would rub off.

And then there was me. The girl who had him. The girl who, by some ridiculous twist of fate, he actually wanted.

"Hey, i'm so damn sorry," his voice broke through my thoughts, worried but soft.

I blinked, realizing too late that I hadn't answered him for longer than was probably normal. We were right outside of the rink arena his team had just played —and won –another game. Unlike my boyfriend, i wasn't the most competitive person in the planet, so when a river of girls and fans flooded through the doors and pushed me away, i didn’t fight it.

William had only managed to find me now, twenty minutes later.