by Melanie Ting
The End
Acknowledgments
Thank you for choosing this book. Please check out my other hockey romances at www.melanieting.com and sign up for my mailing list here.
I would like to thank Mary de Guzman for beta reading and ensuring that all the Philippine culture was authentic. Thanks to all the beta readers on this book: Kate Willoughby, Jaymee Jacobs, and Elle Rush. All are accomplished romance writers that you should check out.
Thanks as always to Daisy for reading and encouraging.
About the Author
Melanie Ting lives in beautiful Vancouver, B.C. with two rescue cats of her own. They bring her chewed up catnip mice but never any hulking hockey players. She will not be held responsible for the relationships of any men who use the dating advice in this novella.
For more information:
www.melanieting.com
[email protected]
Also by Melanie Ting
The Vancouver Vice Series
This hockey romance series follows an AHL team slowly making its way out of the league’s basement.
The Tao of Hockey
After being selected in the first round of the NHL draft, Eric Fairburn was in a car accident that destroyed his career. Now, five years later, he’s getting one last chance. If he can make the Vancouver Vice of the AHL, it could be the first step to making his hockey dreams come true. There are only two things standing in his way—the coach from hell and his own self-destructive ways.
The one talent he hasn’t lost is his way with women. So he’s surprised to be turned down by a mysterious woman he meets in a bar. Eric finds himself pursuing her when he should be focusing on hockey. Yet he’s drawn to her confidence and independence, believing that might be the key to fixing his own on-ice issues.
Can she help Eric overcome his past and make the team?
This is the first book in the Vancouver Vice hockey series.
An Irresistible Force
When Amanda Richardson was a teenager, she had a huge crush on NHL hockey superstar, Chris Luczak. Now, over a decade later, she walks into a boardroom and there he is—looking as hunky and confident as ever. But working with Chris is the least of her problems, since her family’s AHL hockey team is in crisis mode.
Chris Luczak hated retiring from his one true love: playing hockey. He’s been going through the motions at head office, but now he’s got a real challenge. All he has to do is persuade the ownership of the Vancouver Vice that—given their current problems—their best option is to sell the team.
At first, all they do is argue. Amanda has a million reasons not to trust Chris, beginning with his reputation as a womanizing playboy. But she needs all the hockey knowledge inside that sculpted, muscular body—not that she’s noticed, of course. And Chris realizes that the longer he puts off this deal, the more time he’ll get to spend with this fiery woman.
Can they work together to save the Vancouver Vice?
This is book two in the Vancouver Vice series but can be read as a freestanding novel.
Second Round
She hasn’t been on a date in over a decade.
Jackie Wagner is better now, thanks. Her divorce is final, she’s taken up painting to relax, and best of all—her kids are doing fine. But when her ex-husband announces it’s time to sell the house, Jackie scrambles to find enough money so her kids can stay in the same neighbourhood they’ve grown up in. The problem is that her résumé is pretty dusty, and she has zero job skills other than being a wife and mother. Then a plum job falls in her lap—furnishing an apartment for the new coach of the Vancouver Vice. Making a nice home is one thing she’s good at, and the job has potential. Then the coach walks in. He’s confident, good-looking and, oh dear God, wearing nothing but a towel. He’s the first guy she’s been attracted to in forever.
… and he doesn’t do relationships.
Leo Gauthier is driven. Becoming the new head coach of the AHL Vancouver Vice is the next step in his life plan. He’s on the fast track to becoming an NHL coach, as long as he keeps winning. So he lives and breathes hockey for seventy hours a week. Everything comes second to his career except his young daughter. After a painful divorce, he prefers not to let the women in his life get too close, especially not a hot single mother.
But beyond the physical attraction, Jackie’s vulnerability pulls at him, making him question his arm’s length policy. Can two people with complicated pasts find a future together?
This is book three in the Vancouver Vice series, but can be read as a freestanding novel.
Other Hockey Romances
How The Cookie Crumbles
She’s champagne and cupcakes. He’s beer and burgers.
Frankie Taylor has a perfectly organized life—including a checklist for her ideal man. When her dream boyfriend dumps her, she impulsively flees across the country. She lands in a small town where her only romantic prospect is unshaven, unsophisticated, and definitely not her type.
Jake Cookson likes living large. After the grind of playing hockey eight months of the year, he wants to party in the off-season. And he’s more than willing to have a summer fling with the curvy brunette who’s new in town. To his surprise, she’s unimpressed by his NHL fame, money, and athletic prowess.
Can Frankie throw away her plans for the future and appreciate what’s in front of her now? And can Jake even pronounce the word relationship?
Hockey Is My Boyfriend, Part One
What happens when ice meets heat?
Kelly Tanaka has only one goal for her last year of high school: get onto a top university hockey team. Then a handsome blond hockey player skates into her life and flips her priorities upside down.
Phil Davidson is tall, dark, and determined. He’s been Kelly’s best friend since they laced up skates together as kids. And the end of high school means his last chance to break out of the friend zone and win the girl he’s liked for years.
They’ve scored many goals together, but can Kelly and Phil find chemistry off the ice as well?
This book contains adult scenes and language, and is suitable for ages 18+. While this is the first book in a trilogy, it can be read as a standalone.
Hockey Is My Boyfriend, Part Two
Can a summer fling turn into true love?
Kelly Tanaka is fearless when she plays hockey, but when it comes to love, she's running scared. Luckily, a job at a summer hockey camp is the last place she would expect to meet Mr. Right. Sure enough, from an overconfident ladies man to a tongue-tied nerd, all the guys here are Mr. Wrong. And there's no way she could be interested in a tall, muscular centreman who looks young and acts even younger.
James Frechette has just been selected near the top of the NHL draft. He's completely confident about his hockey abilities, but when it comes to women, he's wiping out. The summer is his chance to hone his social skills. The problem is that there's only one girl at his hockey camp, and he really likes her—but so does every other instructor there. Can he overcome his awkwardness and convince Kelly to take a chance on him?
This is the second book in the Hockey Is My Boyfriend series.
Hockey Is My Boyfriend, Part Three
What if you had only loved two guys in your life—and then you got to choose?
It’s crunch time for Kelly Tanaka. Now that she’s graduated from university, her life in competitive hockey is over. All she wants is a career that’s related to hockey. She’s starting at the bottom, but before she can climb the first rung of the corporate ladder, her love life explodes.
James Frechette is playing in the NHL now. He has money, great teammates, and his choice of willing women. But all he really wants is the one who got away.
Phil Davidson has also graduated and wants to get his life in order. Travel, check. Good job, check. Now he can focus on a reunion with the one woman he’s loved his whole life.
Now, Kelly has to make the biggest decision of her life.
Hockey Is My Boyfriend, The Complete Tr
ilogy
Three complete novels at one special price, this box set includes all the books in the Hockey Is My Boyfriend series—as well as the two short stories, French Kiss and Happy Birthday Kelly, which connect the novels.
Excerpt from Better
Are you ready for the next book in the Vancouver Vice series? If you’ve enjoyed Mr. November, there are some very familiar characters. Here’s the first unedited, un-beta read chapter of Better.
Being naked and handcuffed to a bed was probably not the best time to decide to break up with someone. But Camille Salang was never a person to plan ahead.
“Bill,” she said. “Tomato.”
Her pale and freckled boyfriend jerked his head around. He was sitting at the foot of the bed and pulling off his jeans. “The safe word? But I just cuffed you. Does it hurt or something?”
He shuffled closer, his pants still bunched around his knees. He looked ridiculous, which only confirmed the fact that she needed to break up with him. He finally stepped out of the jeans and now he was wearing only sock and the blue plaid boxers she hated. How come guys always expected women to wear lingerie but they didn’t bother to fix themselves up? Women were visual too.
“Take the handcuffs off,” she commanded. He had to go back and find the key. He searched every pocket of his jeans before he realized it was in his shirt pocket. Camille shook her head. At first, Bill had seemed like a decent boyfriend. He had a good-paying job at an IT company, a nice car, and he was cute. But he turned out to be so boring. Even his fantasies were completely average—bondage and fake rape. She had to pretend she was afraid that his big penis was going to hurt her, squeal when it went in, and then end up enjoying everything. Bill practically scripted their sex. And his dick wasn’t even that big.
“Aww, Camille. We haven’t even done it yet,” he whined. He looked down at her, his eyes going up and down her naked body. Then his cock tented out of his boxers. It was like cause and effect, so predictable. “And you look hot right now.”
“I always look hot.” She jangled her wrists, and he finally unlocked the right cuff. There was a clanging as the metal part of the cuffs hit the wrought iron of the headboard. She flipped her wrist around to get the circulation going. Camille had wanted to buy the fuzzy cuffs in hot pink, but Bill insisted they looked too much like toys. They had compromised on leather and metal ones, which were no picnic to wear for any length of time, especially when she had to pretend to be struggling.
He leaned over her body to do the other side. As his body hovered over hers, she could smell his expensive cologne. The tobacco scent reminded her of overflowing ashtrays. She couldn’t help but recoil a little.
“Is something wrong?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, I don’t think this is working out,” she replied.
“What?” He sounded shocked. He sat back on his heels. “Camille, what are you talking about? We’re so good together. You’re the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. I introduced you to my mother!”
Bringing up that event wasn’t making his case. Mrs. Fletcher had been a total snob who let Camille know exactly how lucky she was to be with Bill.
“I don’t know. I just don’t think we’re compatible,” she replied. As in, I’m fun and you’re not, she thought, but didn’t say. That was the problem, she always got attracted to guys who had qualities she felt were important, but she lacked. And most of those qualities were boring in the long run.
“We talked about living together…” Bill’s voice was taking on that whiny, screechy tone he got when he was getting upset. “In fact, we talked about it yesterday!”
Camille tried to sit up, but failed. “Look, just undo me and we can talk about it. We can’t talk about this now, like this.”
“If I undo you, you’ll just go.” He scowled and his lower lip jutted out. “I’m going to go have a snack. And then we can talk about this whole deal. I don’t want to break up, Cammy.”
“Bill, noooo!” she screeched. But he plodded out and the last thing she saw was his blue plaid butt. She heard him opening the fridge. He was a stress-eater, and whenever he got upset he ate ice cream. She could hear him going into the living room and turning on the T.V. like she wasn’t even here.
Damn it. If she had only waited five more seconds, at least she would have been uncuffed and free to get dressed and get out of here. Now she had to lie here until he finished stuffing his face and came back. And even then, she was pretty sure he’d keep whining and pleading before he released her. That would be a torture worse than whips and chains. When things were over for her, they were over.
Camille tested the cuff a few times. There was no way to wriggle her wrist out, his headboard was made of wrought iron, and the chain wasn’t breaking. She pulled hard again, but that only made her wrist sore.
“Why does it always look so easy in the movies?” she muttered. She raised her head and spied a pile of her clothing lying by the side of the bed. The slight bulge in her jeans reminded her that her phone was in the pocket.
Camille stretched out her leg towards the jeans. Just a little out of reach. She rolled her body so that every part of her was closer to her clothes. She extended her leg as far as it would go and wished—not for the first time—that she were model-tall. Shay Mitchell would already be dressed and zooming away in her sports car. Not that Shay Mitchell would ever have dated Bill. Or agreed to this stupid bondage thing.
By yanking on her wrist until her whole arm ached, she managed to get her big toe on the top of her jeans. Then with painstaking slowness, she dragged the jeans closer and closer. Finally they were close enough for her to reach down and grab her iPhone.
Camille exhaled happily and dialled her sister. But the phone went right to messaging. “Ugh. What a time to need privacy!” Elaine was the one who was soooooo responsible, so why would she do that? Then Camille remembered that the two of them had concocted a complicated lie so they could both sleep over at their boyfriends’ places without their mother knowing. She insisted that men didn’t respect women who slept with them before commitment. Like women didn’t have desires of their own.
Mom had no clue what it was like to be young and dating in the 21st century. Women were equal to men, and that included the freedom to hook up. Camille did a mental eye roll as she dialled Marty, Elaine’s boyfriend. Unfortunately, he didn’t answer either. He was probably too busy respecting the heck out of her sister. She exhaled and then in desperation dialled a last resort.
A cheerful voice answered. “Is this a booty call, Camille? Did you finally come to your senses and decide you want to do me?” Marty’s roommate, Nate Jones, was ridiculously persistent, but he was the last person she’d ever go out with.
Camille thought she heard Bill moving around in the living room and dropped her voice to a whisper. “No, Nate. I’m trying to get a hold of my sister and she’s not answering. Can you go in there and tell her it’s an emergency?”
“Uh, well, I’m not actually at home. I’m playing poker at Lionel’s place. Marty asked for a little privacy tonight. Did you know your sister is a screamer.”
“Oh God, don’t tell me stuff like that. I can’t unhear it. What am I going to do?”
“Do about what? Why are you whispering? Is something wrong?”
“Yes. My boyfriend won’t let me leave. He knows I’m going to break up with him, so….” Camille didn’t want to explain all this.
“Are you kidding me? Is he hurting you? What a sick fuck. I’ll be right over to get you,” Nate declared and then hung up.
She did her second eye-roll of the night and turned her phone to mute. One minute later, her cell vibrated.
“Uh, Camille. Where are you?”
“Look, Nate, he’s not hurting me. We were doing this bondage thing, and I’m cuffed to the bed. I mentioned breaking up at the wrong time, so now he wants to talk me out of it.”
“Oh.” Nate thought this over. “So, where is he?”
“He’s eating ice cream in the living
room.”
Nate began to laugh. “Y’know, I can’t believe you won’t go out with me, but you’ve been dating this complete loser.”
“Stop it. Unit 34. 2140 Beta Street.” There was no point telling off the guy who was rescuing her from this stupid predicament. “Bill Fletcher is the name on the buzzer.”
“Is this going to get weird?” Nate asked. “He doesn’t have a gun or anything, does he?”
“Not unless you count the controller for his PS4,” she replied. “You could take him easily. You are a hockey player.”
“Okay. Sit tight.” Nate snickered. “Like you can do anything else. Hey, are you naked? Or are you wearing one of those leather and metal outfits?”
Camille hung up. But his remark reminded her that it was one thing to be naked in front of Bill, but another to be naked in front of another guy. Especially a horndog like Nate. If Nate found her naked and chained to a bed, he was definitely the kind of guy who would have sex first and ask questions later. That idea turned her on. The trouble with Bill was that even when he was trying to be dominant, he was too safe and predictable. She began worming her way into her jeans, but with only one hand it was tough. They were tight ones. Too bad she wasn’t wearing her boyfriend jeans. She was sweating by the time she got them on. She had just done up the zipper when Bill came back in and sat on the bed beside her.
“How did you get into your jeans?” he asked, looking down with confusion.
“With difficulty,” she said. “Now will you undo me?”
He shook his head. “Not until we talk. Is this about commitment, Camille? I know that women want more commitment than men, but it’s too soon for a ring. We’ve only been dating for two months. There are stages for these things. You declare your feelings for each other around three months, then discuss living together—we jumped the gun on that already.”
