Chapter One
Avery stared at the building from where she was stopped at the traffic light, her jaw on the floor. It was impressive. And not a little intimidating.
Dragon Stadium, also known as The Lair, was constructed of black steel, with panels that overlapped to look like real dragon scales. It was shaped in such a way that it felt like, at any moment, it was some sort of beast that was going to rise from the ground and terrorize the city.
The street-level entrance across the front plaza was shaped in a way to make it seem like patrons were stepping through an open jaw.
She knew from television shots during the evening games that there were red lights that glowed through the seams in the panels when it was dark, and steam billowed out of the top of the building, like a dragon getting ready to breathe fire.
The architect who designed it was truly a master of their craft.
The car behind her honked. The light had changed while she’d been gawking. She waved at them in acknowledgement and pressed on the gas.
She drove around the block—the arena was impressive and intimidating from all angles—unsure of where she was supposed to be going.
No one had said specifically where she supposed to meet Tyler McKinnon, they’d just said ‘at the practice rink’ and had given her a time.
Did they practice in the main arena or was she supposed to be somewhere else?
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Which she was now half on hour late for. She attempted to call Mr. McKinnon a couple of times when she was back a the hotel to let him know she was running behind, but he hadn’t answered and it had said his voicemail was full.
On her second trip around the block, she noticed a sign that said administration and had an arrow pointing in the direction of a cluster of low-rise buildings across the street from the arena.
She got in the correct lane and pulled into the administration parking lot. There was a guard and guard booth to get inside. She stopped and rolled down the window.
“How can I help you, miss?” The man had to be in his seventies, if he was a day.
“I’m supposed to be meeting someone at the Dragon’s practice rink, but I must admit, I’m terribly lost.”
He smiled at her. “Not so terribly lost. You’re in the right place, just not in the right lot.
” He pointed back the way she came. “Just go out here and turn right at the next light over. You’ll see the public lot on the right hand side.
Arena is behind these buildings.” He indicated the admin buildings with a wave of his hand.
“Thank you, so much.” She rolled up the window and pulled a u-turn to get back on the road.
Just like he’d said, the community parking lot was on the other side of the block. She pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. But she didn't get out of the car. She just stared at the large building, aptly named, The Dragon Community Sportsplex.
People hurried in and out of the front doors of the arena complex.
This was the stupidest idea Dahlia, her friend and agent, had ever come up with.
One of Dahlia’s assistants had a cousin whose friend or niece or brother-in-law or something worked on the Dragon’s PR team.
Dahlia had set it up so Avery could come out here to Denver and spend a couple of days with one of the players, get a feel for what it was like to play in the league, as research for her next book series.
The fact that she’d agreed to this whole thing, well, that made her an idiot.
With a sigh, she snatched up her bag and got out of the rental car. Huge mistake. As a born and raised southern California girl, she wasn't used to the freezing Denver temperatures, and a huge shiver slid through her, goosebumps breaking out on her skin.
She yanked the ridiculously expensive parka she'd been forced to buy at the airport out of the back seat of the rental car and slipped it on. It was one of those puffy coats, filled with down and, while warm and toasty, also completely unflattering.
She cupped her hands and blew into them, trying to warm up her fingers. She probably should have brought gloves. Or bought some. The last time she'd worn them was when her family had spent one miserable Christmas break in a cabin in the mountains.
The plumbing had frozen on their second night, and they'd spent the rest of the week without any running water.
The fact that the cabin didn't have any working electricity had just added to the ridiculousness of the situation.
Her poor dad had tried to make the best of it, but with five surly teenagers, and a not so happy wife, it had been a disaster.
She shook her head to dispel the memory. Now was not the time. She had other, more important, things to be anxious about.
Reaching into her bag, she fumbled around for her phone.
Maybe this time, Mr. McKinnon would answer so she could let him know she’d finally arrived.
What she really wanted to do was get back into her rental car, drive back to the hotel, and bury herself under the covers until her return flight in a few days.
Her fingers came up empty, no phone or phone shaped items found.
She yanked her bag closer and flung it open.
Her phone had fallen out of the inside pocket she normally kept it in, right?
She dug through her bag, silently cursing at herself for carrying so much crap around with her. Her phone was nowhere in sight.
She blew out a breath and glanced back at the rental car.
Going back to the hotel to grab it would take too long, especially considering how late she already was.
Maybe just going back to the hotel and staying there was a better plan.
Clearly, the universe was trying to tell her this whole thing was a dumb idea.
She'd just have to beg for Dahlia’s forgiveness and maybe send Tyler McKinnon an apology fruit basket for wasting his time.
But she could do that, because she was a grown-up. With grown-up responsibilities. Like keeping appointments even if she thought they were stupid.
She hurried over to the door of the complex. Hopefully, someone inside would be able to assist her in at least finding Tyler McKinnon. She had a vague idea of what he looked like, but she would never be able to pick him out of a police lineup or anything.
A gentleman coming out held the door open for her. She gave him a smile and scurried inside.
And ran smack into a brick wall.
Okay, so it wasn’t a brick wall. It was a very tall man.
He turned at the contact, and her heart stopped beating, right there in her chest. She'd know him anywhere.
Logan Keller. The man who'd played a role in plenty of her teenaged fantasies.
While she'd not been a puck bunny by any means, hockey had been a big in the periphery of her childhood since her dad and four brothers were big fans of the game. Her not so much.
Except for Logan Keller. He’d been the exception. For more than a year when she was fifteen, she'd devoured everything she could about him. Read every article, watched every interview, pored over every stat, deal, and rumor.
His dark hair was swept back from his face, highlighting his killer cheekbones. His nose was slightly crooked—from the numerous times it had been broken over the years. Although he was slightly older than the poster that had hung on her walls as a teenager, he was still incredibly swoon worthy.
She let her gaze drift over him. He was dressed in an impeccable navy blue suit, the kind that looked like it was made specifically for him. Definitely not off the rack.
“You okay?” He tipped his head to the side and studied her.
She stood there staring, frozen to the ground like the concrete floor had wrapped itself around her boots. Somewhere inside her, her fifteen-year-old self was swooning.
Either that or throwing up. Jury was still out on what her current self was going to do.
Although upchucking on him was probably not the best way to introduce herself.
She just needed to convince her stomach to stop rolling like a snowball headed downhill.
She was kind of glad she hadn't stopped for that hot chocolate she’d been craving earlier.
He stepped closer. "Are you okay, miss?"
She tipped her head back to stare at him. She'd known he was tall—his physical stats were easy enough to find online—but somehow, she hadn't realized how tall six foot five was in the real world. It made her feel petite, which was a feat given that she was five foot eight.
"Do you need me to call someone?" He cocked his head, genuine concern sliding into his gaze.
Oh, God. She'd been staring at him for a really long time. Her cheeks exploded, hot enough to melt even the highest snow covered peak in the distance.
"Hi, no, sorry, I’m good." She sounded like such a fool. “I’m actually looking for someone…” She turned and scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tyler.
“I seemed to have left my phone back at the hotel, and I'm supposed to be meeting Tyler McKinnon for an...
" Her voice faltered. What exactly was she doing here?
At this point, she had no idea. Other than embarrassing herself.
He raised one of his dark eyebrows at her, clearly waiting for her to continue.
Her cheeks and the tips of her ears burned hot enough to melt the ice in the rink beside her. She licked her lips, or at least tried to. Her tongue and mouth felt like they were coated in paste. "I promise, I'm not some weird fan or a stalker or anything."
His other eyebrow joined the first one. She was really not making a strong case for herself. As if a stalker would actually come out and say it directly. This was why she wasn't a public speaker. "That came out wrong."
"Okay." There was an edge to his voice that told her he wasn't so sure he believed her. Not that she blamed him.