Hayes Wilder is a walking red flag, warning me to stay away. And yet, all I can think about are his calloused hands on my skin. He’s a total player, on and off the ice, but right now, the only playing he wants to do is with me.

Sneaking around isn’t easy, especially when you live in a small town where nothing stays hidden. And when our secret ends up in the wrong hands, decisions and regrets come as a package.

And here I find myself taking him home while he is drunk out of his mind, and clearly has some memory lost. But hell, I can not win an in argument saying he isn’t adorable right now.

“You’re really pretty,” he slurs. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jesus Christ. “Yep.”

He exhales sadly. “Damn. He’s really lucky.”

I walk him over to his truck and slip my hand in his pocket to grab his keys. He jumps at the contact and spins around, putting his hands up.

“Whoa. How would your boyfriend feel about you touching me like that?”