2
Lexi
He’d insisted we share a car back to the apartments.
Before I could argue, the cab was pulling up to our hotel.
Then I suggested he let me off a block away so that nobody would see us coming back at the same time—together.
Trey had looked at me dead in the eye, and said, “Sweetheart, the cat’s out of the bag. They already know.”
Whenever he looked at me like that, it made my heart flutter.
Like I was a stupid, hormonal teenager or something—mooning over a hot, hockey star who I’d idolized my entire life.
A hockey star whose posters currently wallpapered my bedroom walls back home.
A hockey star who—since I was a young girl, I’d out and out sworn to my parents that I’d marry one day.
A hockey star who I married two nights ago in a drunken, crazy night of fun.
Oh my gosh.
I married my girlhood crush.
This wasn’t like, the boy next door kind of crush.
This was like, a superstar, hockey player kind of crush.
The completely unobtainable kind.
The kind of crush you daydreamed—and especially night dreamed—about.
Not the kind of crush where I finally met him in real life, and he brushed me off with a smile and a nod.
Nope.
The kind of crush where he took one look at me—and gave me the most handsome, devilish grin.
Then he eyed me up like I was the biggest, juiciest hamburger.
And he hadn’t eaten in days.
I’d been Trey’s juicy hamburger for two nights, and two days.
For that, I’d be forever grateful.
But, I knew it couldn’t last.
First of all, it wasn’t allowed.
The men’s team and the women’s team were strictly forbidden to—mingle.
No one could know about this.
Except us.
It was one night.