I gave him a fake name, and he looked for me anyway.

For two years.

One night in Vegas. We didn't even sleep together—just talked until 4 a.m., argued about whether The Princess Bride is a romance, shared French toast in our clothes on a hotel bed. I left before it could mean something.

I took his hoodie. I never threw it away.

Now Zac Torres is standing at my press conference, and the man who spent two years searching for "Rebecca" just found Brynn Callahan.

He's the NHL defenseman everyone calls a locker room cancer—six-foot-four of silence and bad reputation. My editor wants a two-week profile. Redemption arc or villain confirmation.

But Zac's not the villain. He blew the whistle on Chicago's front office, and they destroyed him for it. I have the sources to prove it.

Publishing saves him. It also ends me.

Two weeks with a man who looks at me like I'm already his. A story that could detonate my entire career. And the terrifying possibility that staying might be worth the wreckage.

I've been running my whole life. I'm not sure I know how to stop.

Second chance. Forced proximity. Some people are worth staying for.

Mics and Misconduct is a steamy standalone in the Minnesota Mammoths series.