Mother-freaking hockey players. My friends found their happily-ever-afters with a couple of sweet, doting, over-the-top, in-love athletes. They got nicknames like Kitten and Sugar. But me? I got stuck with a dickhead who riles me up on purpose and calls me Banshee. Yeah, he might have a voice made explicitly for wet dreams. And he might have a body and face carved by the gods. And he might have a level of Alpha-hole that gets me all hot and bothered...

There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement. Or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game because, apparently, he’s a professional athlete. Or how to handle it when you get to the game and realize he’s freaking famous since half of the 20,000 people in the stands are wearing his jersey.