Chatsworth, a prestigious university in Upstate New York.
Here, where ice hockey is practically a religion, the reigning god is Tristan Lockwood, the hockey team captain.
'They say he's a walking powerball. Meeting him is a ticket to changing your life.'
On the other end of the spectrum is Cora, who had to give up her dream of becoming a figure skater due to poverty.
If these two have anything in common, it's that:
First, they both shine brightest on the ice rink.
Second, they both hate losing more than death itself.
When Tristan shows up at the pub where she works and starts picking a fight, Cora snaps back.
"Want a little real-life advice?"
"Sure."
"It’s never a good idea to annoy the person making your drink, Captain."
Who knows what I might put in it?
Catching her drift, Tristan bursts into hearty laughter.
His blue-gray eyes swirl with a strange mix of excitement and amusement, like a devil who just found a fun new toy.
Perhaps that's when it all started.
Suspiciously often, far too often to be a coincidence, their paths begin to cross...
To make matters worse, when Cora ends up partnered with Tristan for a group project, she has no choice but to text him first.
And yet, what kind of trick is this? His reply includes a cute picture of a cat.
「My cat.」
「Even cuter in person.」
「Wanna come see?」
Cora's eyes narrow as she looks at the text.
'Wanna come see?' in the middle of the night? Isn't this the ultimate booty call?
Surely he isn't using a cat as bait to pick up women, is it?
'That foxy bastard... This is dangerous.'
Despite her firm resolve to never get involved with Tristan, Cora ends up spending a night with him...
***
"Hey, beautiful."
At the moment their bodies collide over the rink.
He grabs both of her wrists and gently pins them against the ice.
"Don't we have something to talk about?"
"......"
"Just how long were you planning to act like nothing happened?"
His gaze is scorching hot—so hot it feels like the ice on the rink might actually melt.
Illustration: Moot
