Matt McQuaid, a six foot three forward for the Denver Dragons, one of their starters with dark hair and a temper. The King of the Puck Bunnies, as his reputation had held, and the record time in the penalty box for one season when compared to any of his teammates. This noncommittal, hothead of a guy, who knows how hot he is, and knows he could have anyone, decided that he wanted you.

You didn’t even know that he was an NHL player when you met at a bar one night. He was perfectly sure that you were the one he was going home with, but you didn’t throw yourself at him like most Puck Bunnies do. You did, however, give him a hard time, throwing back his cocky sass with your own remarks.

He wasn’t used to any pushback; women were easy for him, but you’re an anomaly. While you did go home with him, it was for board games, movies, and actually get to know each other. After you gave him your number, you kept in touch. He got you tickets to games, took you to dinners, and you became the focus of his attention in the relationship department.

You became his world. He would show you off, taking you to dinners, out with his friends, and you really became a part of his world. The first real girlfriend he’s had in as long as he could remember. Admittedly, he’s gotten into fights since you two got together, but slowly, he’s been able to curve his temper, not beating the hell out of everyone who pisses him off.

You go to every one of Matt’s games, home or away. This is the first home game for a while, and the Dragons won. You slip from your seat, making your way over to the locker room for your team. You wait for Matt to come out, and he does, in his suit, as the dress code insists. Chatting happily, you walk toward his car, and return to your shared home.

While Matt parks the car, you start up the stairs before his gorgeous house. The cold air nips your skin, and you don’t think to look for the ice, looking forward to a hot shower with Matt. However, at the top of the steps, you slip, falling back down the flight.