He wanted to fuck you.

Where is your self-respect?

Closing her eyes, she shook her head.

You are a professional, Brie Soledad. You’ve got this. Ignore him.

But even she knew she was lying to herself. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Hey.”

But she ignored him, looking to Travis. “Are we ready?”

“Two seconds.”

Damn it.

“So you’re going to ignore me?”

She only looked at the camera, but she could feel his gaze on her.

“You look good.”

Biting her lip, she kept her mouth shut. She wouldn’t give him an inch. Nothing.

“Like, really good. I love your ass in that skirt.”

Shaking her head, she yelled out, “Can you guys get your shit together and let’s do this?”

Travis and everyone else looked over at her, their eyes wide, and she just glared. “We are, Brie. Damn, something is up with the cord.”

“Then get another one!”

She was being a bitch, overreacting, but damn it, she couldn’t handle Vaughn. He was killing her. Literally killing her. As everyone jumped into gear to do something—and, really, they were on a time crunch, it only made sense that they hurried the hell up—she heard Vaughn say, “So, how are you?

When he realized she wasn’t going to answer him, he said, “I went and saw Rod. He looks great. I know Trish is staying with him. I was worried you would have pulled him.”

She bit into her lip so hard, she tasted the blood on her tongue as she stared a hole into the camera.

“Brie.” When she felt his hand on her, she snapped her head toward him.

“Do not touch me.”

His eyes widened with hurt. Before she looked away, he said, “I miss you.”

Pulling her gaze from his, she swallowed hard as Travis called out, “Okay, let’s do this. In five, four, three, two—”

When he pointed to Brie, she put on a bright grin even though her heart hurt so bad she couldn’t breathe. “I’m Brie Soledad, here with Vaughn Johansson. Johansson, great goal tonight after a call that had you pretty upset—”

“I mean, we both know it was a fair call, but I had to fight. I fight for what I want.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits as he held her gaze. She would not let him get the upper hand here. “Oh, that’s good that you fight for things, that you want some things, but not others. I’m so glad one of those things is hockey and scoring goals for the Assassins.”

“That’s my job.”

“Oh, it’s so good that you do the things you say you’re going to do on the ice.”

News flash, Brie was going off the deep end. Not wanting to be that reporter, she reeled it back in as she tore her gaze from his and met the camera where Travis was gesturing with his hand, moving her along. “Not everyone knows this, but I played hockey for the Syracuse Orange my whole college career. I have the record for the most goals scored for the school from my time there. But I think Miranda Bishop might surpass me with her superb playing this season. But because of this, we here at the Assassins thought it would be fun to put the Assassins’ leading scoring against the ’Cuse Orange’s best. Which is me.” She added in a laugh to make it seem like she was just pleased as punch about this and didn’t hate everyone at that moment. “So, Johansson, do you take the challenge to go one-on-one with me?”

She didn’t want to turn, she didn’t want to look at him, but she knew she had to. When she did, she wished like hell she hadn’t. His eyes were full of dark and sinful promises but also a bit of hurt as he took a step toward her, holding her gaze. “I would love to go one-on-one with you, Brie Soledad. Any day, any time.”

She wanted to smack that smug smile off his face, tell him to fuck off so bad. Instead, she turned to the camera and grinned. “Well, there you have it, folks. Stay tuned.”

“And we’re off.”

Stepping off her box, she didn’t look back as she handed the mic to Travis. Because she knew if she did look, she wouldn’t be walking away.

She would punch Vaughn square in the jaw instead.

Or fall into his arms.

Like a dumbass.

But all she could hear was his voice, so low, over and over again:

I miss you.

“Hello, I’m Brie Soledad.”

“And I’m Vaughn Johansson.”

This was a clusterfuck.

Brie’s blood had been boiling since the moment she stepped onto the ice with him. It had been three days since she’d learned about their fateful meeting at the rink, and she was still not happy. Especially since they had an audience for their little competition. Not only was the whole film crew there, but almost all the guys from the Assassins, including Jensen, who was leaning against the boards, a goofy grin on his face.

Since walking out of the hallway after their interview, she had done well ignoring Vaughn. Well, she didn’t leave her apartment except to go see Rodney, but it was the same thing. She was pretty sure Vaughn was trying to catch her outside, because no one walked their dog in snow. But apparently, he was subjecting Tricksie to that. When she saw him outside walking, she noticed he had put a jacket and boots on his dog. At least he cared about that dog since he couldn’t care about anything else. Lord, he infuriated her. Yet, as she stared into the camera, she was all smiles while she held her helmet in one hand and her stick in the other. She just had to get through this, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with him until their next meeting, which she prayed wasn’t for a long time.

She needed more time.

Because even though she was livid at him, just seeing him made her breath catch.

God, she was an idiot.

Like, at that moment, as he stood beside her in full Assassins’ gear. A little grin was on his face and his hair was back, wet from where he had wanted it to stay in place. He smelled fantastic, and she hated that she was still attracted to him. It made her want to smack him with her stick, and that made her question her sanity.

Maybe she was violent?

Shit, did she need help for that?

With wide eyes, she looked at the camera, ignoring her crazy thoughts as she said, “We are here for a fun, one-on-one competition. Are you ready, Johansson?”

“I am, Soledad.”

“Great, I’m so excited,” she said so sticky-sweet she was pretty sure she saw some of the guys laughing. “Rules are easy. Hit the post, get a point, but it can’t be anywhere past the line that has been drawn on the ice. Gotta keep it fair. First to three wins. Ready to lose?”