Never Settle (Next Gen #1)

Chapter One

Sophia

“Really?” I groaned. “That’s the guy I have to interview?

” I gestured to the half-naked idiot jumping out a second story window in the Student Village.

The hockey player landed on the ground carefully and stood in his boxers, not even bothering to cover himself.

He just waited for his clothes to fly down after him.

He caught them against his impressive chest and started walking toward us without putting them on.

“Leo Harrison?” my roommate Alyssa asked, her mouth agape at the gorgeous man who still seemed unfazed at being mostly naked.

Why isn’t he at least pulling on his sweatpants? It’s fifty fucking degrees.

“You’re interviewing Leo Harrison for the paper?

” She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, but, then again, this was an interesting spectacle.

Despite the situation, it was hard to ignore those abs.

The man was the star forward on the Boston University hockey team, and he’d clearly been training all his life for his position.

There were few other explanations for a body that well-defined.

I took a deep breath through my nose. “That’s right. I get to sit down with him over coffee and find out what the beautiful fuckboy plans to do when he graduates. It’s riveting news, apparently.”

Alyssa chuckled. “Well, I suspect a lot of people will be interested in this article if there’ll be a photo. Particularly one where he poses like a Calvin Klein underwear model.”

I rolled my eyes as the topic of our conversation waved at us.

“Morning, ladies,” he said with a cocky smirk as he passed.

I didn’t know what was more infuriating: the fact that he was as gorgeous as he and everyone else on this campus seemed to think, or that I couldn’t help myself from checking out his ass as he passed.

Damn, it’s as well-defined as the rest of his body.

“Come on, Soph. That man is fine. And those dimples?” Alyssa sighed, still craning her neck to watch him as he swiped his ID card to let himself into another dorm building.

“You’re gay,” I reminded her.

“Yep. And I still know a good-looking guy when I see one,” she said, shaking her head appreciatively.

“He is currently half-naked and scurrying away from an obvious hookup, Lys. His dick has probably been in so many different women that he can’t even tell who he’s putting it in most nights.”

Alyssa laughed and turned to face me, her dark red hair shining in the sun as she gestured to a bench for us to sit on.

She’d gotten me an iced vanilla latte from my favorite local spot, Ackerson’s Coffee and Wine Bar, since she knew I was dreading a hockey-focused assignment.

It would be hard for her not to know how I felt since I’d been complaining for days.

I was an English major, intending to write romance novels professionally after graduation in the spring.

I’d only signed up to write for the school newspaper this year because I thought it would be a good experience to strengthen my writing skills.

And I’d been rewarded by being asked to interview a hockey player.

How is interviewing this guy ever going to help me write better?

I took a long sip of my latte and pulled my coat tighter around me. Blame it on the fact that I was born and raised in Hawaii, but I still couldn’t get over Leo running across campus in his boxer briefs. I was in jeans, a long-sleeve top, and a full winter peacoat and I was still freezing.

No, it is not the iced latte’s fault.

Alyssa and our other roommate, Jia, were always giving me a hard time for basically living in winter clothes. I would have been a lot more comfortable if school in Boston ran through the summer instead of winter.

“Maybe you’ll be one of Leo’s next hookups after this interview,” Alyssa said with a smile. “You could use the action. Do you have any idea how hockey players move between the sheets?”

“No, I do not,” I said proudly. “Do you?”

“No, but Jia speaks highly of the experience,” Alyssa said with a chuckle.

“Well, even if she’s right, I have no intention of learning from him.”

My love life was certainly not one to brag about.

I’d dated a guy named Connor my junior and senior year of high school.

We’d tried to stay together our freshman year of college, but since he was at school in Seattle, the distance had been too much.

Honestly, we were good friends who thought we were in love once but there was never a huge spark of attraction like I saw in the relationships around me at home.

Seeing how much my mom and dad loved their respective partners had given me a pretty good idea of what love could be like.

My relationship with Connor was never the real thing.

I’d had a few short-term flings on campus but nothing that had led to much in the bedroom worth discussing.

Connor and I’d had such a lackluster sex life that I was pretty sure I sucked at all things in the bedroom.

Given Leo Harrison’s reputation for having slept with a significant portion of the female student body, I knew we were opposites in experience and prowess.

One night with him and I’d look like I had a neon sign around my neck that said: No, I don’t know how to give a good blow job.

It would be humiliating and further drive my confidence into the gutter when he inevitably pretended to be into it like Connor had done.

“You know, he could be just what you need,” Alyssa said, resting an arm on the back of the bench and around my shoulders before lifting her coffee to her lips with the other. “I’ve heard nothing but good things from girls who have hooked up with him. Apparently, he’s very attentive.”

I scoffed. “I’m sure he is. And I bet he calls them all baby and sweetie the whole time to make them feel special and to cover up the fact that he can’t remember their name. Then when the sun comes up, he jumps out their window and sprints across campus.”

“He was casually strolling, Soph.”

I took another long sip of my latte, goose bumps rising on my skin. “Even better. He has zero shame for his actions.”

Alyssa shook her head, looking smug. “Well, they all know what they’re getting into. He might have a reputation for being a fuckboy, Soph, but from the sounds of it, he’s kind of a sweet fuckboy. The hockey star apparently always sets clear boundaries up front.”

A fuckboy with a conscience? One who respects women while working his way through them one by one? Unlikely.

“I find the very statement sweet fuckboy to be a contradiction. Besides, the way everyone worships the hockey players around here is weird.”

She laughed. “Trust me, if they’re as good as Jia says, I bet you’d sing a different tune, girl. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

I pulled out my phone to check my email. I was supposed to interview Leo in two hours but given what I’d just witnessed, I figured it was safe to assume he’d cancel on me at the last minute. Sure enough, I had an email from him.

Hey,

Any chance we can move our interview to Harrison’s Bar and Pub? It’s the only time I’m going to have to eat a meal today. We can grab lunch. The food there is great. I eat for free, so your meal is on the house too.

Let me know,

Leo

I groaned again and showed Alyssa the phone.

“He eats for free at restaurants? Come on now. Is this because he’s a future Bruin?

” In addition to Leo’s legendary bedroom prowess, everyone—and I mean everyone—on campus knew he’d been drafted by the Bruins at eighteen and was set to sign a contract with them at the end of this season.

“Probably.” Alyssa shrugged. “Look, I’ve gotta run to class. The interview will be fine and now you’re getting free lunch! At least enjoy the view while you sit across from him.”

“It’s going to be hard to do that when I’m so distracted by the giant pedestal under his ass.”

Alyssa said goodbye and bounced off toward her class while I returned his email.

Leo,

I can meet you there. I enjoy their food, but I’ll pay for my own lunch.

Sophia

I sent the email and decided to head to the gym to do my daily workout.

My uncle was a retired Navy SEAL who’d started working out with me when I was in high school, and I’d kept up the lifting and endurance training he’d taught me since coming to college.

I’d never been interested in organized sports, but I was an avid surfer when I was home in Hawaii and had always kept up a strict exercise regime.

I enjoyed the challenge of beating my own records and watching myself get stronger.

What kind of regime does someone like Leo need to maintain to play hockey the way he does? I bet it’s intense too.

Perhaps the guy’s dedication was a positive character trait. I wasn’t sure how much more this interview would reveal in his favor, but I could at least go into it with an open mind.

After I finished up at the gym I stopped at Ackerson’s for another iced vanilla latte on my way to Harrison’s Bar and Pub.

I knew it wasn’t great to show up at one restaurant with food and beverages from another, but I’d done it without thinking once and the woman behind the bar had told me not to worry about it since the two places had the same owners.

If I was going to show up with coffee from somewhere else, it was a good thing my two favorite spots in Boston were owned by the same people—though nothing could compare to my stepmom’s café in Oahu.

I pulled open the door to Harrison’s and nearly pinched myself to see if I was in a dream. There was Leo Harrison, sitting in a booth and scrolling on this phone—I looked at my watch—ten minutes early.

Well, this is an unexpected development.

Damn it, he really is ridiculously attractive—not to mention the appeal of his punctuality.

I took a moment to admire him before I walked over to his table.

He had a light complexion with dark hair that had a bed-tousled look and made him look deliciously fuckable.

And his ridiculous biceps? He looked like he could smash a watermelon with his bare hands.

Men with biceps like that should be forbidden from getting tattoos.

He only had one that I could see on his right arm—an infinity symbol with words in it that I couldn’t make out—but the dark ink wrapped around his bulging muscle in a way that felt sinful.

He turned toward me. This close, I realized what it really was about him that made women melt: it was the dimples surrounding the smile he gave me, paired with blue-gray eyes that stood out against his dark brown hair.

This fuckboy is gorgeous. I have to get through this interview before I become one of his bedroom prizes.

When he stood up to greet me, I was pretty sure I wanted to be just that—not that I’d ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know.