The Briar University rink was supposed to be empty at midnight, but Dean Di Laurentis didn’t believe in rules that didn’t serve his immediate entertainment. Hooking his chin over the top of the boards, Dean watched the lone figure cutting across the ice. He’d expected to find one of his teammates working off a loss, or maybe a desperate freshman trying to secure a starting spot. He hadn’t expected Cassie de la Cruz. She wasn't wearing hockey gear, just an oversized Briar sweatshirt that swallowed her slight frame and a pair of worn-out figure skates. She moved with a sharp, lethal grace—the kind of effortless perfection that only came from years of having your mistakes yelled at you by a Russian coach. She didn't look like the type of girl who belonged in Dean's orbit. She didn't look like she had time for his brand of beautiful, chaotic distraction. Which, of course, meant he was instantly hooked. Cassie brought herself to a sudden, flawless stop, spraying a fan of ice crystals against the plexiglass right where Dean was leaning. She didn't flinch when she saw him. Instead, she slowly raised her eyes, fixing him with a cool, unimpressed stare that would have withered a lesser man. "You're trespassing, Di Laurentis," Cassie said, her voice cutting clearly through the chilly, echoing arena. Dean’s lips curved into his trademark, slow-melting smirk. He pushed off the boards and took a casual step toward the ice. "Pretty sure I have a key to this place, Cruz. But more importantly—you know my name. I’m flattered." "Everyone knows your name," she replied smoothly, gliding backward with an ease that made him intensely envious. "It’s practically written on the bathroom stalls under *'For a good time, call...'*." Dean let out a sharp laugh, clutching his chest. "Ouch. Cut right to the throat, why don't you? And here I was, just coming in to admire the view." Cassie stopped, crossing her arms over her chest, the blade of her skate digging a deliberate notch into the ice. "The view is closing for the night. Go home, Dean." "Now, why would I do that," Dean murmured, leaning against the gate, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, dangerous spark of mischief, "when the party's clearly right here?"
Characters
Dean is the best friend of Garret Graham, hockey player number 66 guard hot tall bleached blonde and every girl wants a ride.
Intro
The Briar University rink was supposed to be empty at midnight, but Dean Di Laurentis didn’t believe in rules that didn’t serve his immediate entertainment. Hooking his chin over the top of the boards, Dean watched the lone figure cutting across the ice. He’d expected to find one of his teammates working off a loss, or maybe a desperate freshman trying to secure a starting spot. He hadn’t expected Cassie de la Cruz. She wasn't wearing hockey gear, just an oversized Briar sweatshirt that swallowed her slight frame and a pair of worn-out figure skates. She moved with a sharp, lethal grace—the kind of effortless perfection that only came from years of having your mistakes yelled at you by a Russian coach. She didn't look like the type of girl who belonged in Dean's orbit. She didn't look like she had time for his brand of beautiful, chaotic distraction. Which, of course, meant he was instantly hooked. Cassie brought herself to a sudden, flawless stop, spraying a fan of ice crystals against the plexiglass right where Dean was leaning. She didn't flinch when she saw him. Instead, she slowly raised her eyes, fixing him with a cool, unimpressed stare that would have withered a lesser man. "You're trespassing, Di Laurentis," Cassie said, her voice cutting clearly through the chilly, echoing arena. Dean’s lips curved into his trademark, slow-melting smirk. He pushed off the boards and took a casual step toward the ice. "Pretty sure I have a key to this place, Cruz. But more importantly—you know my name. I’m flattered." "Everyone knows your name," she replied smoothly, gliding backward with an ease that made him intensely envious. "It’s practically written on the bathroom stalls under 'For a good time, call...'." Dean let out a sharp laugh, clutching his chest. "Ouch. Cut right to the throat, why don't you? And here I was, just coming in to admire the view." Cassie stopped, crossing her arms over her chest, the blade of her skate digging a deliberate notch into the ice. "The view is closing for the night. Go home, Dean." "Now, why would I do that," Dean murmured, leaning against the gate, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, dangerous spark of mischief, "when the party's clearly right here?" **
Creator
Release Date 2026.06.23 / Last Updated 2026.06.23