Defenders Diaries

Finn O’Reilly doesn’t follow rules. But even he knows you don’t hook up with the coach’s daughter. She was a one-night mistake he’d make a thousand times over. He knew she’d bolt. He just didn’t expect her to ghost him completely. And he definitely didn’t expect her to show up again…pregnant. Jessica Novak doesn’t lose control. Not in the boardroom. Not on the ice. And definitely not with a grinning, cocky forward who specializes in bad decisions and worse timing. But one night in Montreal, she let go—and let him in. Now he’s back in her orbit.

Nate Russo is the New York Defenders’ grumpy, brick-wall goalie—one bad stretch from losing his season. Enter Eden Carver, the physical therapist brought in to save his career…and the one girl who’s always lived under his skin.

Getting engaged wasn’t on my Santa list. I wanted cocoa, fuzzy socks, maybe eight hours of sleep. Not a fake fiancé with forearms that have their own fan base and a smile that ruins common sense. My grandmother’s will says: “engaged by New Year’s or lose the twelve-million-dollar trust.” So I do what any not-panicking, rational woman would: I proposition my coworker.

She's the definition of don’t even think about it. Look up off-limits in the dictionary, and not only is her name there—it’s underlined, bolded, and signed by her dad. And yet, here I am. Kissing my coach’s daughter against a wall where anyone could see us. Easily the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Starting a fight on the ice? Sure. Taking a slapshot to the ribs and playing through it? Not my brightest moment. But this? It’s the kind of mistake that could end me. And the craziest part? I’d do it again. Because if Sophie Novak is a mistake… She’s the only one I ever want to make.

Dmitri Sokolov doesn't lose control. Until his daughter’s nanny quits days before playoffs—and Erin O’Connor steps in to help. The Captain's baby sister. Too young. Too tempting. Too damn off-limits. But now she's in his home—close, distracting, and turning his world upside down.

It was supposed to be simple. Fake date campus hockey royalty to make my long-time crush look my way. Enter Kieran O’Connor—star winger and campus legend. Devastating good looks. Cocky dialed to eleven. The kind of guy who always gets what he wants. He needs help passing a class. I need a fake boyfriend. We make a deal. I write the rules in permanent marker: no touching, no kissing, no feelings. But Kieran O’Connor doesn’t do rules. His grin is a blade. His hands? Pure trouble. Somewhere between late-night problem sets and his number stretched across my shoulders, I forget we’re pretending.