Cruel Summer - A. Matthews, M. Knies

Cruel Summer - A. Matthews, M. Knies

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"I just mean... there's something about you that I can't get out of my head. I've never felt like this before, and I have my fair share of experience." // "I still love you. I never stopped, and I can't keep pretending like I don't." - AVERY HART is freshly 21, an aspiring fashion designer living in Scottsdale, Arizona, just trying to get by some of the toughest years in her life. One uneventful summer, she finds herself unexpectedly drawn to her best friend's cousin, who also happens to be the star centre of the Toronto Maple Leafs; But, this budding romance is suddenly complicated by a ghost from Avery's past - who happens to be that centre's winger. - #3 in nhl - 02/23/2024 #3 in leafs - 03/29/2024 #1 in mapleleafs - 03/30/2024 #19 in austonmatthews- 05/29/2024 - Chat I lowkey hate this fic now but I'm keeping it up because I put a lot of time into it. Check out my other stuff it's better
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BRENDAN The first on-ice time after a rest is always when I realize, anew, that I feel simply better with my skates on: more alive, more myself. It's like someone wiped away the dust over the glass I see the world trough: everything is more vivid. ... The Coach calls me and talks directly my duty: "We already know Jesperi is able to play with us." He says. I translate 'he is able' in: 'we need him desperately', but I don't say a word and the coach goes on: "But I doubt Weiner can stand the pressure." I ask the next question even if I already know the answer, because you know, it's first day and the two guys are so new: "You want me just to verbal stress them, or do I get physical?" The coach looks at me, bored: "Am I breathing?" He asks. I grin. SERENA I keep walking, but the blond guy remark stings. Of course I'm not his type. I bet he likes petite blondes showing thin floss-between-ass-cheeks selfies on social and thinner sense of humor. He's not my type, either. I'd rather tall men with dangerous look. I've never been on pretty blond guys with boyish grin. I like the Jason Momoa type and if I had to break my no-date rule it would be with someone like... Ok. Who am I lying to? In my rules book, number zero is about no sex... aaand.... I'm not going there. ... I freeze. I'm doing the math: hot guys, broad shoulders, necks large as jaws, broken noses, big egos... I turn around and stare at the office entrance just while the black-haired, angel-faced guy pushes the glass door and enter the office reception. BEFORE YOU GET STARTED: Sex scenes are explicit. If you're under eighteen or too sensitive, please don't read. English is not my native language, I improved it by writing this fanfic, please let me know where I got it wrong and please, comment, so I will improve! I had fun writing, I hope you'll have fun too!

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