3. Cassidy

I cringeas I stare up at one of the flat-screens hanging on the wall, watching again as Hayden Vaughn smashes Alexei Kovalenko into the boards with an illegal check.

What a dick.

The replays haven't stopped.

Still... sending him that message on Instagram wasn't one of my finer moments. That"s what a few too many drinks and a long night at my hockey bar will do to you. I don"t normally go around insulting NHL players, especially ones as stupidly hot as Hayden. But something about him just rubs me the wrong way.

Maybe it"s his reputation for being an asshole, or maybe it"s the way he seems to think he can get away with anything on the ice with no consequences. Or maybe it's not even him and it's a general hatred for hockey players after my cheating shitbag of an ex.

Either way, I"m feeling like a total idiot for saying anything to him, even if it was behind a screen. Besides, I"m sure he gets thousands of messages and probably didn"t even see mine.

Probably.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, a notification pops up on my phone and I freeze, setting down the glass I was drying with a shaky hand. It's probably just Uncle Todd checking in. Now that he's retired, and the trust handed the bar over to me, he likes to make sure I'm good running this place on my own.

But somehow I know it's not him. I brush the hair out of my face as my heart goes from calm to Jesus fuck, I'm about to explode in the blink of an eye. Yup, it"s from Instagram, and when I open the app, there"s a message waiting for me from him.

Hayden Vaughn. The Hitman himself.

Shit.

I bite my lip and stare at it for a long time before clicking in. My heart"s beating so fast I think I might stroke out.

hayv29: You"re Cassidy Bennett.

Of course he wouldn't respond like a normal person.

hayv29: You live in Seattle

My blood runs cold as I realize that this guy somehow figured out who I am and where to find me, despite purposefully keeping my Insta account vague. This guy with access to nearly unlimited money, sticks and blades he's an expert at wielding, and who knows how to fight better than some MMA fighters.

Awesome.

It"s the last line that really gets to me, though.

hayv29: And now I do, too

I swallow hard, trying not to panic as I read the message over and over again. This can"t be real. There"s no way Hayden Vaughn is in Seattle because of me.

I glance up at the TV screen again, not really seeing it until a red bar flashes across the bottom of the NHL Network feed.

Breaking News: Hayden ‘The Hitman' Vaughn Traded to Seattle.

Goosebumps break out over my entire body, and my stomach hits the floor. Before I can think about it too long, my phone buzzes as another message pops up from him.

hayv29: Meet me tomorrow tonight

I stare at the message for a long time before replying with shaking fingers.

iceprincessxo: Not happening

His response is instant.

hayv29: Don't make me come find you.

Shit.

I"m so screwed.

I don"t know what to say back to him, but I"m terrified he'll show up here at my bar or worse—at my apartment. He already found out who I am. Getting my address will be a piece of cake.

This can"t just be about my message, can it? What else could he possibly want?

As I try to figure out what to do, my phone buzzes again and I see that he"s sent me his phone number.

hayv29: Text me your address

iceprincessxo: Fuck off and die

iceprincessxo: Or, you know, just leave me alone

hayv29: You started this, princess

hayv29: Now I"m gonna finish it

Double shit.

I should just block him. That"d be the smart thing to do, right?

So what the hell"s wrong with me that I don"t? That some part of me wants him to message me again. To call him out and see what he does.

I don"t know why I"m like this, but I can"t deny the way my pulse goes absolutely wild as I read his messages. It"s like there"s something inside of me that wants to push back against him, to challenge him and see what happens.

I"m just about to block his number and delete his message (yeah, right) when another one comes in from him.

hayv29: Admit you want me to find you.

hayv29: You like the chase as much as I do, don't you, princess?

My heart skips a beat at his words, and I can"t help but wonder if maybe he"s right. Maybe I do want him to... No. No, this is crazy.

But then I remember who he is and what he did on the ice a couple of nights ago. The Hitman isn"t someone you want to mess with. He"s dangerous.

Still, I can"t deny the way my teeth dig into my lip until it hurts as I type back,

iceprincessxo: Never

He responds with a smirking emoji and I laugh out loud despite myself. This guy is psychologically unwell. And I"m even crazier for talking to him like this.

But as I turn back to my bar and the rowdy group of hockey fans that just piled through the door after another Anchors loss tonight, I can"t stop thinking about him and wondering what would happen if he showed up here. He's going to be in my city. It wouldn't be hard, especially with the Anchors players using my place as their regular after-game meet up spot.

Would I let him find me? Or would I run as far away as possible from the NHL"s most ruthless player?

Lila eyes me over the drink she"s mixing for one of the guys at the bar and raises an eyebrow. "What"s got you so twisted up?"

I try to act normal, but I know she can see right through me. "Nothing."

She smirks. "Uh huh."

"Really," I say, trying to sound convincing as I grab a bottle of Blue Moon and pop off the top. But inside, my stomach is churning with a mixture of fear and excitement as I think about what could happen if Hayden Vaughn actually shows up at my bar—or at my apartment.

And that scares me more than anything, because I don't think I'd be able to tell him to go away.

It"s late when I finally get home after closing down The Sin Bin. Yet another night gone that I've failed to fulfill my dad's wish for this place—to add a restaurant so families can come and celebrate their love of hockey together. Some nights it feels like it'll never happen.

The Anchors went into overtime and the last regular didn't leave until almost two. Lila offered to stay and help, but I told her to go home. She"s got a baby to take care of and I don"t want her to feel like she has to babysit me all the time, too. Besides, her girlfriend deserves a breather from baby duties once in a while.

As I unlock my door and step into my apartment, my shoulders drop and I let out a long exhale. It"s been a long day and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for a week.

But as I turn on the light in the kitchen, I freeze and a mixture of a gasp and squeak pops out of my mouth at what's sitting on the counter.

It"s flowers. A huge arrangement of dark red dahlias that must have cost a fortune. They're the color of blood.

I stare at it for a long moment before looking around my apartment, feeling like someone could be hiding in the shadows, ready to jump out at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up like I'm being watched. But there"s no one here. Just me and this insanely expensive bouquet.

I don't think his flower choice was by accident. They mean something. A quick search on my phone tells me it's love and romance, but also perseverance. Nope, that's not unsettling at all.

I swallow hard as I approach them, wondering if they're from Hayden and, if so, how he managed to get into my apartment while I was gone. There"s no sign of forced entry and nothing seems out of place, but knowing he was here, in my apartment… I don't know how to feel.

Still, I can"t shake the idea that this is all some kind of twisted game he"s playing with me. I pissed him off and now he's going to play with me the way a cat plays with a mouse before he eats it.

I pick up the card attached to the flowers and open it, my heart pounding as I read the words written inside, the ones that confirm my suspicions.

"Hope you"re ready to play, Princess."