Misconduct
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WpMetadataNoticeZuletzt aktualisiert Di., Juni 30, 2026
Logan Romano didn't just enter the NHL. He tore through it. Dark. Brooding. Untouchable. With brutal talent and a reputation as cold as the New York winter, Logan dominates both the ice and every room he walks into. He doesn't lose. He doesn't bend. And he certainly doesn't fall in love. Not after the last time. Not until November Levine crashes into his life like a beam of sunlight he never asked for. She's warmth where he's storm clouds. She's soft where he's jagged edges. A walking contradiction to everything Logan swore he needed. When a deal forces the polar opposites under one roof, tensions ignite fast. Teasing turns to feuds. Feuds turn into something dangerously close to desire. And Logan is forced to confront the one promise he's never broken. Because once you step into the light- it's impossible to return. ✩ Grumpy x sunshine • forced proximity • slow burn Will the hockey captain cross that line? ✩ "Nova." I whisper, my voice low and hoarse against her neck. "Stop it." "Stop what." She whimpers back innocently as her thighs tighten around my hips. My teeth nip at the skin on her jaw in warning. "Either stop teasing, or put me out of my fucking misery." November pulls her head back from mine, resting it against the wall, and bats her lashes up at me. "Say please."
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There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

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