I’d wanted her from the first moment I’d seen her.
But Billie Rose hadn’t liked me. Not that I could blame her—I’d just been another of the annoying hockey players seemingly out to ruin her town. Thankfully, I’d finally gotten her to see me. To want me. But Billie was the most together person I’d ever met, and she regularly took on fixer-uppers of both the human and inanimate variety. I didn’t want her to see me as a project. I wanted her to see me as me. As the man she wanted. As the man she loved.
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