When Aria Monroe lands her dream job as the new photographer for Los Angeles's professional hockey team, the last thing she expects is to work with the cocky, arrogant center Connor Holden who rocked her world five years ago during a one-night stand...
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I got called into Brian's office the following morning, unsurprisingly.
Flipping off the most elite member of the team surely didn't make the best first impression, and I would bet my entire paycheck that Connor ran right upstairs to complain and get me fired.
Was I supposed to ignore how conceited he was? God, he was infuriating. Thinking I took this job to get a second chance at sleeping with him? A part of me is grateful he assumes I'm some money-hungry puck bunny. It means he truly doesn't know me, and I want to keep it that way.
"Aria," Brian greets with a...smile? "Please, take a seat."
I fully expected to come into a room to a brooding, miserable Brian—a version of him I'm thankful to have only experienced once. Esme and I had snuck out to a party during high school, and when we returned, Brian had been waiting patiently in a chair for us in the hallway. I'll never forget the hard lines of his face, his mouth set into a frown.
But now, he's fully relaxed, sitting behind a large mahogany desk with his hands folded on his stomach. If he weren't the team's general manager, I'd assume he was a player himself back in the day. Tall, broad-shouldered, and a kind of chiseled face you take one look at and know not to mess with. He used to have chestnut hair back in the day, but specs of gray have long since peppered the brown. I've always liked him better with the gray, anyway. It makes him more distinguished.
I'm not sure how I make it to the seat across from him, but suddenly, I'm sitting down. Brian must notice the perplexed expression on my face when he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Hm?" I snap out of my thoughts, bringing my eyes to his. "Yeah. I mean, yes. Sorry, I just..." Well, I can't exactly tell him I flipped off his most prized player yesterday. Clearly, Connor didn't say anything, and I'm not sure what to think about that. "Not much sleep last night," I admit.
Brian's eyes soften, causing guilt to eat me alive. "You still have the nightmares?"
"Sometimes," I say in a voice quieter than I recognize. It's not a lie. The vivid dreams of that night often haunt me and stir me awake with a jolt or a scream, depending on how long they last.
Brian has been like a second father to me, and his questions are just him being concerned. Maybe that's why I decide to be honest. "I thought you asked me to come in because I was in trouble."
He arches a brow. "Trouble? Why? Should you already be in trouble, Aria?" When I don't respond right away, he releases a hearty chuckle. "Don't think I've forgotten your high school years with my daughter. You were often her worst influence."
God, that feels like forever ago. I was a different person then before everything changed. Before my stupid, adventurous personality and spur-of-the-moment ideas turned my entire world upside down.
"Is there something you need me to do?" I ask.
Realizing I need a subject change, he dips his chin in acknowledgment. "I just wanted to see how yesterday with the boys went. They can be..."
