Never Say Never: An Enemies-to-Lovers Secret Identity New Adult Sports Romance (Western Wildcats Hockey Book 4)

I stare at the book sprawled out on the table where I’m working at The Roasted Bean, a coffee house on campus that caters to the student population. I love popping in, grabbing a cappuccino and studying. It’s cozy and I’m usually able to get a lot done.

That, unfortunately, isn’t the case this afternoon. I’ve been here for more than an hour and have barely plowed my way through one assignment.

Focus is definitely not my friend at the moment.

It’s been that way since I returned from Vegas a few days ago. Even worse than that, I’ve taken to skulking around campus, so I don’t run into the hot hockey player.

It’s a pain in the ass.

My brain keeps tumbling back to the weekend.

I still can’t believe I married Colby McNichols.

Colby!

McNichols!

Mr. Manwhore Extraordinaire.

The baby-faced assassin.

How could I have allowed this to happen?

I’ve racked my brain, trying to dredge up as much as I can about that night, but the memories remain frustratingly murky.

There were shots—of course.

A ton of laughter.

And then sex.

A lot of really good sex.

I’ll say one thing about the guy—he knows exactly what he’s doing in that department. A shiver dances down the length of my spine at the memories that bloom to life before settling in my core.

And the first night…

When he’d pressed me against the glass and had his wicked way?

Yeah…that experience is singed into my brain for all eternity.

At some point, we’ll have to sit down and discuss the situation and how we go about dissolving our sham of a marriage.

I just need to work up the courage to face him. It’s not like Colby wants to be married to me any more than I want to be tied to him. The guy is probably freaking the fuck out right now.

Hell, maybe he’s already set the wheels in motion.

Although, he hadn’t lost his shit when he’d realized what we’d done.

Nope. He’d been cool, calm, and collected.

I’m the one who’d freaked out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and release a steady puff of air from my lips. In the past, if there were situations I wasn’t able to tackle on my own, I’d enlist the assistance of my family. Mom would swoop in and take over. It’s what Sharon does best. Within a matter of days, the circumstance would be resolved.

Given the status of our relationship, that doesn’t feel like an option. If I reach out for help, she’ll descend, and I’ll be forced to return to LA. I’m nowhere near ready to do that.

Uncle Sully pops into my head. I chew my lower lip and contemplate turning to him for help. Over the previous months, we’ve grown even closer than before.

It’s been really nice.

The last thing I want to do is cause problems between him and my mother. He’s already keeping it a secret that I’m here, living in the same city.

So, he’s not an option.

Which means I need to figure this out on my own.

I’d like to think it’ll prove to my family I’m a mature adult who’s more than capable of handling her own life, but it’s doubtful anyone who marries a stranger in Vegas while drunk can use this scenario as proof of adulting.

It takes effort to shove those thoughts from my head and refocus my attention on my textbook. I have a test coming up in a few days and if I don’t wrap my brain around the terminology and concepts, I’ll end up failing.

Just as I congratulate myself for reaching the end of one page and flipping to the next, someone drops down across from me. The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck prickle with awareness. I don’t have to glance up to know who I’ll find.

Even though a few feet separate us, the woodsy scent of his cologne slips around me, cocooning me in familiarity. Arousal explodes in the pit of my belly as my mind tumbles back to what it felt like to wake up beside him, our bare legs tangled together.

With a shaky exhale, I steel everything inside me before forcing my gaze to his.

Staring at his male beauty is like having the air knocked from my lungs.

It’s not like I didn’t realize that he was handsome, but after days of absence, the memories have dulled. Maybe it was even purposeful on my part. A self-protective mechanism. With him seated across from me, looking all broody and irritated, I don’t have any other choice but to acknowledge it.

When I remain silent, unsure how to open the dialogue, his scowl deepens as he crosses his brawny arms over his chest. As unaffected as I want to remain, that’s impossible under the intensity of his scrutiny.

This isn’t how I imagined our reunion playing out.

“Well, hello…wifey.”

His deep voice crashes over me like a tidal wave before threatening to drag me out to sea.

My tongue darts out to moisten parched lips.

I have no idea how to respond. My brain misfires, drawing blanks.

All the times I’ve caught sight of Colby on campus or even at Slap Shotz, he’s been surrounded by groupies, his expression a perpetual smirk as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

His appearance is a direct contrast to that.

“I have to admit that you’ve been rather difficult to track down.” He cocks his head. “Almost as if you’ve been hiding from me. Your husband. Can you imagine that?”

I throw a quick glance around the café, hoping no one is paying attention to our conversation. The last thing I want is for this to get out. All it would take is one spark to ignite and suddenly, the entire joint is burning to the ground.

He might not understand that, but I do.

From a few tables away, a handful of girls stare at him with hungry eyes.

It’s tempting to roll mine.

The guy certainly draws attention like flies to shit.

It’s just another reason I need to nip this…whatever the hell this is in the bud and end things before it spirals any further out of control.

Although granted, it seems a little late for that.

The last thing I want to do is jeopardize the life I’ve created for myself at Western.

Catching sight of Axel in Vegas was a close call.

Way too close.

It only drove home the realization of what I have to lose. For the first time in years, I have a group of girlfriends. I’m living an ordinary life and attending classes. All the things I missed out on as a teenager. And my creativity is finally flowing.

I refuse to give it up.

Maybe hiding out isn’t a long-term solution, but for now, I want to hold onto it for as long as possible.

“Keep your voice down,” I mutter, still trying to get all my out-of-control emotions back under submission. “I am not your wife.”

He raises a brow. It’s thick and sculpted, fitting his profile perfectly. Although, it would be a challenge to find any imperfections in Colby’s appearance. He’s too damn handsome for his own good.

And mine.

“Well, that’s interesting, because I have paperwork that claims otherwise.”

My eyes widen at that bit of news. “You do?”

“Yup. Found it in my pants pocket the morning you took off.” His eyes resemble chips of blue ice. “I have to say,” he muses, “girls usually run toward my dick. Not away from it.”

Heat scalds my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Something came up and I had to leave.”

Even though he nods as if accepting the lie, the curl of his upper lip says otherwise. “Right.”

I straighten on the couch and attempt to work up some indignation. “What? It’s true.” Not wanting to argue, I shift and change the subject. “So…about this, um, you know…”

“Marriage? Is that the word you’re searching for?”

“Yeah.” I don’t understand why he’s making this convo awkward. We should be on the same page.

When his lips quirk, my gaze dips to them, and a burst of heat explodes in my core as memories of what they felt like coasting over my body crash over me. It’s enough to leave me shifting on the couch.

When he tugs his bottom lip between sharp white teeth, a groan nearly escapes.

Ugh…how embarrassing would that be?

I force my gaze to his, only to find that an answering heat has sparked to life within his blue depths.

Muscles coiled tight, he leans forward, closing some of the distance between us. “Is there a particular memory from the weekend that you’d care to share? Because I have several.”

“No,” I squeak, mortified that he can read me with so much ease.

Or reduce me to a puddle of goo.

It’s demoralizing.

All right…so maybe I do understand. They don’t call him the baby-faced assassin for nothing.

Clearly, the nickname has been well earned.

Heat suffuses my cheeks. “Shouldn’t you be looking for a way out of this?” There’s a beat of silence before I add, “From what I’ve heard, you don’t even date. Or probably sleep with a girl more than once.”

Humor ignites in his eyes as he sits back again, lounging as if he’s a king on his throne. “So, you’ve been asking around about your new husband? Guess you’re not nearly as indifferent as you’d like me to believe.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You know what?”

I press my lips together. The question seems more rhetorical in nature than anything else.

“I kind of like being an old married man.”

My face scrunches. “Now that’s highly doubtful. Wouldn’t it crimp your overactive social life?”

He flashes a knowing grin before lifting his arms and stacking his hands behind his head. The movement makes his biceps pop beneath the sweatshirt he’s wearing. “Interested in that too, are we?”

This man’s cockiness knows no bounds.

If it weren’t aggravating, it would almost be impressive.

“No, I’m not.” I shift and force out the rest, wanting the comment to come across as nonchalant. “I’m just saying that married men don’t sleep with groupies.”

“Some do.”

My mouth tumbles open.

Before I can blast him into next week, he tacks on, “But you don’t have anything to worry about.” He gives me a wink. “I’m all yours.”

I release the air trapped in my lungs, unsure why we’re having this pointless conversation.

Although, that doesn’t stop me from firing back a few questions of my own. “Really? The guy who can’t keep his dick in his pants isn’t going to roam? Is that really what you’re telling me?”

His eyes glitter as he cocks his head. “Now why would I do that when I have a beautiful wife waiting for me at home?”

The heated expression sets off a chain reaction deep in my belly until it feels like I’m on the verge of incineration.

“We don’t live together.”

“Yet.”

The way he drops that little word feels more like a bomb that rocks my world to the very core.

“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, sounding as if I’m being choked from the inside out.

His arms drop to his sides as he scoots to the edge of his chair and leans forward, hinging at the waist as if seconds away from pouncing. “Does it really look like I’m joking?”

That’s the scary part.

The one that doesn’t make any sense.

The man looks dead serious.

It’s enough to have my mouth turning parched.

It takes effort to shake myself out of the spell he’s woven around me in the ten minutes we’ve been conversing. All I can say is that Colby McNichols is more dangerous to my well-being and sanity than I gave him credit for.

I hold up a hand, surprised to find it trembling. “I’ve done a little research about what we need to do to dissolve this marriage. It’s not difficult⁠—”

“I did the same, and an annulment is out of the question.”

“Why?”

He raises a brow as a slow smile spreads across his face. I’m pretty sure the girl seated at the table behind us just gasped. “Maybe you don’t remember consummating our marriage the night of, but we certainly did the morning after.” There’s a beat of silence before he adds, “Right before you skipped town.”

“Stop saying that. We’re not married,” I growl, ignoring the dig.

“The great state of Nevada would claim differently.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

“Unless we want it to.”

His words rob the air from my lungs as we stare at each other for a strained beat of silence. “What?”

It’s carefully that he repeats, “We can stay married if we want to.”

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head in confusion. “Is that what you want?”

He settles back on the chair again before shrugging.

The gesture might seem casual.

The look on his face is anything but.