A sexy, second chance, forbidden love, hockey romance, by USA Today Best-Selling Author, MJ Fields

She chose her family. He chose their dream. Now fate is giving them a second shot…

Five years ago, Nalani pushed me to take an offer from Lincoln University for a full ride, giving me a better shot at playing professional hockey. She promised to make the move with me then bailed at the last minute, breaking her promise and my heart.

Now she’s in my city, in my space, vying for a job in the Bears organization, and trying to get my attention. But all I’m giving her is my back.

The old saying, “Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice, shame on me,” rings in my head, but not as loudly as the memory of how hot we were together.

An Enemies to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Small Town Second Chance, Sports Romance.

Leland Locke is everything I always knew he would be.

Professional baseball player and F-boy extraordinaire, Locke's the kind of man that no woman would ever give up a chance to call him theirs, even if for one night.

He's just that good, and I hate that about him.

On the first day of my sophomore year of high school, I saw her and knew she was it.

That same night, I broke up with my girlfriend, Shelby Shutter, and Gwendolyn York became my girl, and I became her player. We were best friends and each other's first everything.

She's the last girl I loved, and I'm still the guy she hates.

Now, she and her partner are on a case involving my neighbor, and I will not stop until I get the answer to the one question I still have: how did we manage to mess up something as good as us?

Jillian

My whole life, I've been a planner. Every aspiration I've ever had was on a spreadsheet, chart, or graph that flowed from one step to the next, all leading to my goal. I, Jillian Hart, younger sister of two professional athletes, would be the first in my family to hold a Doctorate.

After graduating with honors in both of my majors, I was sure I'd soar to the top of all the acceptance lists of my dream colleges. When I received my first acceptance letter to Montana University, my safety school, I knew it wouldn't be the last. I was wrong. I'd been waitlisted at the two universities I wanted the most.

Feeling a quarter-life crisis closing in, I felt the need to have a focus. So, I decided I was going to conduct a little research project of my own.

My thesis is built around the need to understand why so many girls I grew up with —who chased a boy instead of dreams— are happier than me.

My hypothesis: it's sex, not love.

Set on proving I'm right, I now have a new goal to achieve, and my crisis will be averted.

Step one: lose my V-card in the name of research.

Nour

My batting average was one of the top in our league in the minors; since moving to the majors, it's drastically declined.

No matter how many times I've tried to approach it logically, all things point to the fact I'm not getting any action off the field. Don't get me wrong; I could have so much I'd drown in it, but I've read the cautionary tales of men in my position and do not plan on adding my name to a chapter in that book.

The answer: FlingShot, a hookup app.

It's all fun and games until someone ends up catching feels.

?A steamy, forbidden one-night stand, ex's sister, football romance?

Before starting my NFL career, I flew into the city closest to the town I'd call home. I booked a room, went out to grab a bite, and ended up talking football with the locals, who had no clue who I was. Oh yeah, and I had a few too many drinks.

As the night wore on, everything became a little bit blurry. Deciding to use the men's room before grabbing a ride back to the hotel to catch some ZZZs, the door to the stall behind me swung open and a chick with an SU ball cap on, barely containing her wild, dark locks, stepped out, glanced down at my junk, and said, “That will work.”

My response? “You sure about that?”

It worked. Of course, it worked. I've never had a problem making it … work.

Even after finding out she was related to the owners of the New York Knights, there wasn't a problem. We agreed it was no big deal. I didn't even take offense to what that could have meant south of the border, either.

The problem arose when I met her sister.

They look alike, but they couldnt be any different. And no, it's not what you're thinking. I don't have a sisters fantasy or anything like that, and I've never been, and never will be, the guy who falls in love. My heart just doesn't work that way.

The minute I met her fiancé, I knew he wasn't the kind of guy who deserves to marry a girl like Riley Mae Brooks. Everyone around her knows it, too, but they're not doing a damn thing to stop it. So, why do I feel like I have to?