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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
On the rare occasion I have the day off, I normally spend it alone binge watching whatever television show captures my attention. I don't have any friends outside of my teammates, and being around my family can be exhausting. I've always preferred to spend my free time by myself. Today, however, I plan on spending it a very different way.
At my first stop of the day, my phone goes off. I almost roll my eyes when I scroll through the family group chat.
Mom: You're telling me you won't be joining us for Thanksgiving the weekend before??? What changed? You've never missed a holiday with us.
Iz: I can think of a reason why...
Dickhead Ev: Does it start and end with an A by any chance?
Mason: If so, it's about time.
Dad: It's none of our business. If you need to skip out on this year, we'll understand.
Em: Stop hounding him! Whatever reason he has is valid enough.
Dickhead Ev: If you're missing Thanksgiving just to be with her, can you at least make things official and introduce us? PROPERLY this time?
God, I hate Everett.
***
"Connor?" Aria peeks her head through her front door, surprised to see me. "What are you doing here?"
I lean my arm against the door with a cocky grin—one I know she can't refuse. "We both have the day off, right? I thought we could spend it together."
"But we're supposed to be keeping this a secret. We can't go out."
"I didn't say we were." Lifting the bag in my hands, I arch a brow. "Is it alright if I come in?"
Aria tentatively steps away from the door, allowing me inside. She's in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, and her straightened hair is held back by a bandana. Bare-faced with no makeup, she's fucking perfect.
"No more sling?" I ask, pointing to her bare arm.
I glance over my shoulder when she turns the doorknob three times, then checks the deadbolt three more times. "Habit," she says in a rushed voice. "And I got the all clear from my doctor this morning. Anyway, welcome to my home."
"I've been here before," I reply. "Remember? When I helped you move?"
"Right, but I've decorated since then."
Not really. Her townhome is bare, lacking any sense of home. I don't spot a single picture of her family on any of the walls. There's a couch, a television, a dining room table, but it doesn't feel like a home. It just looks like a house that's being staged for sale.
There are a lot of secrets to be learned about Aria's past, so there's probably a reason she doesn't have pictures of her family up. Rather than comment on it, I head into the kitchen and place the bag on top of the island. "We're having a movie day," I announce.
