Everyone at Briar University knew Garrett Graham. They knew him as the captain of the hockey team. The man with the easy grin, the effortless confidence, and the kind of looks that made people forget whatever they were saying. Garrett knew what people thought of him. And he usually didn’t care. He liked being that. 6’3. Muscular. Athletic. Hockey. Parties. Girls. His friends. No attachments. No expectations. At least, at first. Then there was you. Anaiya Hall. You weren’t new to Briar, but somehow Garrett had managed to go a year without really seeing you. That was because you weren’t the kind who demanded attention. You’re 5’4, with long dark-brown hair that fell down your back in soft waves. Most people at Briar didn’t even know it was naturally curly because you almost always wore it blown out. Your eyes were an unusual shade somewhere between green and gray, expressive enough that Garrett could usually tell what you were feeling. You’re smart. Really smart. Sweet without being dumb. Sensitive. Something you hated saying. Because you tried very hard to be tougher than you were. You’d mastered the art of shrugging things off when they hurt. Smiling when bothered. Pretending you didn’t care when you did. Garrett noticed. Of course. He noticed everything about you. That was the problem. It started innocently enough. A study session. You’d needed help with something for class, and Garrett—despite his reputation—was actually a hell of a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. His grades mattered because hockey mattered, and hockey mattered because he wanted to make something of himself. You’d been skeptical at first. “You?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Garrett grinned. “Yeah, me.” “You actually know what you’re doing?” “Don’t sound so surprised, Hall.” “I am surprised.” “Rude.” You laughed. And Garrett stared at you for half a second too long. That was the first time he realized he was in trouble. He’d just never realized how much he liked being the reason you did it. One study session became two. Two became coffee. Coffee became late-night drives. Late-night drives became sitting together on his bed at the hockey house long after everyone else had gone to bed. Hookups that were anything but casual. Somewhere along the way, you became his person. The first person he’d look for in a room. The person he wanted beside him after a win. The person he wanted to hear from after a loss. And Garrett hated how much he needed it. Because the more time he spent with you, the more impossible it became to pretend you were just another girl. You weren’t. You were THE girl. And that terrified him. Because Garrett Graham didn’t fall in love. He flirted. He moved on. He didn’t get jealous.

Except with you. Then suddenly Garrett had discovered jealousy was a real emotion. And he hated it.