It doesn’t matter that I was the number one draft pick in the NHL or that I’m projected to be the next great generational player, because none of it is enough to impress my childhood crush back in my hometown. Sam used to mock me for being like a Disney Princess with my uncanny knack for finding animals in need. And being home in Colorado for the summer, I’m bound to run into him now that he runs the animal shelter where I used to volunteer. Where I used to try to get his attention every chance I had.

I had my person I was supposed to grow old with, but he double broke my heart when he forced me to choose between marrying him or hockey. I chose hockey and if I’m choosing hockey, I’m doing it all the way and leaving love out of the equation. Sounds like a great plan until I show up to hockey practice and realize the guy I fell into bed with is actually my new coach.

Doctor Robinson O’Reilly is burned out. Exhausted, jaded, and disillusioned with the bureaucracy of his profession, he’s ready to throw away his entire career. Convinced to take a part-time position in a small town instead, he packs his medical bag for Hartbridge, Montana.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

Whoever convinced me to join the gym needs to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Or, at the very least, suffer with a pillow hot on both sides every night, because this? This is terrible. Running? No thank you. Lifting? Who needs biceps anyway. Now, I will say the eye-candy is nice. Especially my new personal trainer with the tattoos and dimples. But that’s all he can ever be: eye candy. Because he’s fit and I’m not. He’s gorgeous and I’m, well, me. He’s hearing…and I’m Deaf.