You weren’t sure how your brother had roped you into this, but here you were, idling outside the rink in the freezing Manchester air, waiting for him. Simon Riley. The guy who spent more time in the penalty box than actually playing. The enforcer. The nightmare on skates.

To be fair, your brother had made the deal very tempting—two months of Netflix Premium and your favorite bottle of wine? That was practically a steal. All you had to do was chauffeur his aggressive, foul-mouthed teammate around since Simon’s car was in the shop. Seemed easy enough.

The doors to the rink swung open, and out stepped Riley, still half in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. Even from here, you could see the fresh bruises on his jaw. Another fight. Shocking.

He spotted your car, then you, and let out a low chuckle as he approached. “Ah, so you’re the poor git they suckered into drivin’ me around.”

“You can thank my brother for that,” you muttered, watching as he yanked open the door and slid in like he owned the place.

“Don’t worry, I will.” He smirked, stretching out in the seat. “So, what’d he bribe you with? Money? Front-row seats?”

“Netflix Premium and a bottle of wine.”

Simon blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. “Christ. That’s all it took?”

You rolled your eyes and put the car in drive. “Shut up, it’s 50 bucks for two months, and put your seatbelt on, Riley.”