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Tyler Griffin is gorgeous, ruthless, and arrogant.
He’s also one of the best hockey players in the National Hockey League.
Not known to be a fighter on the ice, he has no problem dropping the gloves at the same time.
The sweet side of Tyler: he has a twin sister that he would do anything for, including disregarding any rules if they mean he can’t protect who he loves.

I know all of this about Tyler because I know him.
We grew up in neighboring towns.
He played against my brothers and ironically, he still does because my brothers are also NHL franchise stars.
The rivalry was in high school.
We’re all adults now.
That means certain grudges should be forgotten…

Wrong.

The rivalry is very much alive.
The hatred is visceral between my brothers and Tyler.
As for myself, I have my own complicated relationship with my brothers.
But things are about to get heated because the NHL team that I recently accepted a position to work for just traded for a certain star player: Tyler Griffin.

He’s the enemy to both of my brothers, but he’s also mine.

A/N: This is a 111k word standalone. New characters. This book does discuss suicide and suicidal ideation. 

“Rain!”
My phone started ringing.
I snatched it up, trying to save the rum and the bottle. My couch was going to be drunk.
I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
But the phone was still ringing.
It was the hotel landline. Well, that wasn’t good.
I tossed my cell on the table and grabbed the cordless phone as I went over to the door. I opened it and answered the phone at the same time. “Hello?”
“Ms. Connors, this is the front desk—”
Tyler had lifted his hand to continue pounding. He dropped it now, his face furious as he shoved his way into the room.
I focused on what the front desk was saying, “—a disturbance.” They stopped talking.
I stared at Tyler, my brain working hard to process it all. “Oh,” I said. “I’m okay. That was an asshole at my door, but I opened it.”
There was quiet for a beat on the other end. “Are you in need of security, Ms. Connors?”
I stared at Tyler, whose gaze had fallen to my rum. He took it from my hand and tipped it back, taking a good swallow. “No. He’s inside now.”
“I’m aware, Ms. Connors. I’m asking if you would like us to send security to your room.”
“Why?”
“For your safety. Do you feel safe, Ms. Connors?”
“Not emotionally.”
Tyler wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, glaring at me as he took another drink. “What the fuck are they saying?”
“They’re asking if I feel safe.”
He rolled his eyes upward and turned away from me, going into the bedroom with my rum.
“Ms. Connors?”
“I’m fine. I don’t need security, but if you know a good couch cleaner on staff?” I looked over at the piece of furniture. Too much of that bottle had leaked out. I’d gotten home, started drinking, and probably passed out after two swigs. Lightweight.
“What was that?” the front desk asked sharply.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

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