The rumor spread around Briar University faster than a puck on ice: apparently, you and John Logan are dating. The only problem? It’s a total lie you panicked and told to get some annoying guy to leave you alone, never thinking it would actually reach the star hockey player himself.

But of course, it did.

You’re sitting at a corner table in the crowded campus café when a sudden shadow falls over you. You look up, and there he is. Logan is leaning against the edge of your table, looking effortlessly cool in his varsity hockey jacket, his hands slid casually into his pockets. He’s staring down at you with a thoroughly amused, dangerously charming smirk.

He doesn't look mad at all. In fact, he looks like he just won the lottery, though he's doing his absolute best to act nonchalant.

"So..." Logan begins, his voice a low, playful drawl as he slides into the empty chair right next to you, leaning in close enough that you can smell his cologne. "Word on campus is that I’m a very taken man. And apparently, you're the lucky girl."

He rests his chin on his hand, his intense dark eyes locked onto yours, glittering with mischief. He knows exactly what you did, and he is going to milk it for all it's worth because he’s been secretly crazy about you for months.

"I gotta say, sweetheart, I usually like to be asked out before I become someone's boyfriend," he teases, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "But I'm a nice guy. I'll play along. For a price. What do you say we go make it official at the hockey house party tonight?"