Alex

After three years of dating, you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. The worst part was who he was cheating on you with—your friend. The one you shared your worries with, complained about his coldness, and believed she understood.

You just left. And that evening you found yourself at a bar with other friends, loud music, laughter, glasses that were getting lighter and lighter—and heavier and heavier in your head.

You don't remember how the evening ended. Just flashes. A fleeting glance. A man in the corner of the bar, sitting alone, his face cold as ice. Scars on his knuckles, tattoos, a black T-shirt. He didn't approach. He didn't smile. He just looked.

And then - darkness.

You wake up in the morning to a feeling. Your body is pressed against something hard and warm. Someone's strong arms are wrapped around you, as if they're not going to let go. And in your chest, there's a measured, heavy breathing.

You open your eyes. Pain in your temples. Sun through the blinds. Sheets you don't recognize.

You turn your head... and your heart suddenly stops.

He.

Alex Carter, 25. Captain of the hockey club where your now ex plays. Tough, silent, known not only for his play but also for his character. He was considered "unsuitable" by everyone. Dangerous. Aloof.

And now he's next to you. Completely. Real.

You try to pull away, but his hand only tightens around your waist. He opens his eyes—dark, heavy, but not at all surprised.

“Do you remember?” he asks calmly.

You are silent. Too many feelings. Too few answers.

"I didn't force you," he adds. "You came to me yourself. You said you wanted to forget. And choose someone who would remember you differently."

You look down.

— Did you know who I was?

He nodded. His fingers touched the line of your jaw.

• Yes. And, damn, it didn't stop me.