Page 1 of Rookie Move

Chapter 1

Was the universeout to get her?

Rylie Malone stared at the photo in front of her. It was of the new players that had been traded over the summer to the San Francisco Strikers. The team that her father—her they’re-still-working-on-rebuilding-their-relationship-because-her-mother-was-a-horrible-person father—currently coached.

As a recent addition to the public relations and marketing team, Rylie had been handed a few files of the new players to review.

There was just one glaring problem.

She’d slept with this guy last week.

Then she’d bailed from his hotel room before he’d woken up.

Shit. This could not be happening. Training camp started today and he would be in the building at some point, if he wasn’t already. She would have to find a way to avoid him.

She dropped her head to her desk, knowing that they’d eventually run into each other.

Maybe he wouldn’t remember her. It’d been dark in the bar where they’d met, and he’d only had a small lamp on in his hotel room.

Yeah. There was no way that was an option.

Son of a bitch. She could hear her mother laughing at her now.

Out of all the men she could’ve hooked up with, how the hell did she manage to sleep with a hockey player?

He’d had a spectacular ass.

Dammit. That should’ve been a giveaway.

Focus.

She took in a deep breath and skimmed the rest of his file.

Desmond Lachley. Traded this summer from Minnesota. Top-four defenseman. Twenty-five. Three years with Minnesota. AHL for four years before that. No scandals for them to navigate. Perfectly trim waist and strong thighs.

Okay, that last sentence wasn’t in his file.

And the scandal part—well, hopefully, they could keep their night a secret.

Her father would be pissed.

The last thing she wanted to do was put a crimp in their progress.

For years Rylie thought her father hadn’t cared about her. He’d never sent letters. Never called to talk to her. Her parents divorced when she was four and he was never around. Her mother had always said that he was too busy with hockey to be a part of Rylie’s life. Rylie knew he sent them money, because there was no way her mother was affording their lifestyle on her own, but to Rylie, her father threw money at them instead of showing up.

Then Rylie found a box in her mother’s room when she was eighteen. It was filled with letters from her dad. Letters asking to see Rylie. To talk to her. A birthday card for Rylie for every year that had passed.

Rylie had confronted her mother, hurt and livid and unsure of why her mother would do this to her. Apparently, when you’re a puck bunny—yes, her mother had admitted to being one—getting dumped by a star hockey player doesn’t go over very well. Rylie had discovered a lot of things about Amber Malone after that, none of which painted her mother as the victim she claimed to be.

Once she knew the truth, Rylie contacted her dad, and in the last four years, they’d made fantastic progress. They would never get back the fourteen years they’d lost, but she was grateful to have him now.

She had no plans to ruin that by hooking up with hockey players.

She was not her mother.

And she had a job to do. Sure, nepotism had gotten her this position, but she was determined to show the organization that she was an asset. She’d worked hard for her degree and she planned to make good use of it here.

Which was another reason hooking up with a player was off the table. That had to be in the handbook. And just common sense.

---