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PLAYOFFS: BREAKING THE ICE
THE LINE BETWEEN WANTING TO PUNCH HIM AND WANTING TO KISS HIM WASN'T JUST THIN ANYMORE. IT HAD COMPLETELY DISAPPEARED.
Jamie Campbell
Yelling with Brandon O'Connell was useless. Seriously, it was like trying to argue with a wall of ice and muscle. But there we were, in the middle of the fucking cold arena parking lot, the smoke from our breath mingling in the air like a declaration of war. He was close. Too close. The heat radiating off his body contrasted violently with the murderous chill in his gray eyes. I hated his control. Hated his calculated calm. Most of all, I hated the way my body, that traitorous son of a bitch, reacted to his proximity. To his smell – sweat, winter, and something darkly masculine that made me dizzy.
"You don't get it, do you?!" I practically spat the words, my chest heaving with rage. "Hockey isn't just following the fucking playbook! It's instinct! It's passion! Something you know nothing about!"
He didn't move. Just stood there, his jaw locked, the statue of the perfect and infuriating captain. My eyes, against my will, dropped to his mouth for a second. A firm mouth, rarely seen smiling, and one I had an insane, suicidal urge to find out if it was just as controlled up close. Shit. Focus, Jamie.
"Passion doesn't raise trophies, Campbell," his voice was a low growl, vibrating in the tiny space between us. "Discipline does. Control does. Things you have no fucking idea what they are."
He took a step. Closer. The thick fabric of his coat brushed against mine. My heart hammered, slamming against my ribs. The line. That fucking line between wanting to punch his perfect face and wanting to grab him by the collar of his shirt and shut that mouth with mine... it was getting dangerously thin. And from the dark spark that flashed in his eyes for an instant, I knew. He felt it too. And hate had never felt so goddamn exciting. The storm was just beginning. And I had a feeling we were going to drown in it.
GET READY FOR AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS THAT WILL LEAVE YOU BREATHLESS. THE CHEMISTRY IS EXPLOSIVE, THE FIGHTS ARE FOREPLAY, AND EVERY TOUCH IS A PROMISE OF SIN. WILL THE ICE FINALLY MELT UNDER SO MUCH HEAT? AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HATE TURNS INTO THE MOST INTENSE DESIRE OF THEIR LIVES? HOLD ON TIGHT, THE TEMPERATURE IS ABOUT TO RISE. 🔥🏒💦
Jamie Campbell
Yelling with Brandon O'Connell was useless. Seriously, it was like trying to argue with a wall of ice and muscle. But there we were, in the middle of the fucking cold arena parking lot, the smoke from our breath mingling in the air like a declaration of war. He was close. Too close. The heat radiating off his body contrasted violently with the murderous chill in his gray eyes. I hated his control. Hated his calculated calm. Most of all, I hated the way my body, that traitorous son of a bitch, reacted to his proximity. To his smell – sweat, winter, and something darkly masculine that made me dizzy.
"You don't get it, do you?!" I practically spat the words, my chest heaving with rage. "Hockey isn't just following the fucking playbook! It's instinct! It's passion! Something you know nothing about!"
He didn't move. Just stood there, his jaw locked, the statue of the perfect and infuriating captain. My eyes, against my will, dropped to his mouth for a second. A firm mouth, rarely seen smiling, and one I had an insane, suicidal urge to find out if it was just as controlled up close. Shit. Focus, Jamie.
"Passion doesn't raise trophies, Campbell," his voice was a low growl, vibrating in the tiny space between us. "Discipline does. Control does. Things you have no fucking idea what they are."
He took a step. Closer. The thick fabric of his coat brushed against mine. My heart hammered, slamming against my ribs. The line. That fucking line between wanting to punch his perfect face and wanting to grab him by the collar of his shirt and shut that mouth with mine... it was getting dangerously thin. And from the dark spark that flashed in his eyes for an instant, I knew. He felt it too. And hate had never felt so goddamn exciting. The storm was just beginning. And I had a feeling we were going to drown in it.
GET READY FOR AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS THAT WILL LEAVE YOU BREATHLESS. THE CHEMISTRY IS EXPLOSIVE, THE FIGHTS ARE FOREPLAY, AND EVERY TOUCH IS A PROMISE OF SIN. WILL THE ICE FINALLY MELT UNDER SO MUCH HEAT? AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HATE TURNS INTO THE MOST INTENSE DESIRE OF THEIR LIVES? HOLD ON TIGHT, THE TEMPERATURE IS ABOUT TO RISE. 🔥🏒💦
326 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 28, 2025
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