Blue Line Fever. Quinn Hughes

Quinn Hughes has the world watching him and no one actually seeing him.

New captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Golden boy on the surface. But behind the press conferences and perfectly tailored suits is a man unraveling slowly, quietly. The kind of man who smiles like it hurts and doesn't let anyone close enough to see.

Until her.

She barely remember the night. But he's spent every night since remembering only her.

Michigan. A country festival. She walked wearing denim shorts and a don't-fuck-with-me smile, smelling spicy. She didn't give him her name. She barely gave him a second look. But Quinn? He's been building fantasies around her ever since. All-consuming ones.

Elizabeth Woods.
Pediatric intern. Raised in the shadows of a mother who loved like a loaded gun. She's gentle in a way that feels dangerous, like she's trying to undo years of damage with one soft look and steady hands. She's the kind of woman who tucks blankets around strangers but doesn't flinch when someone screams.

She's standing across from him, stunned, breathless, just as fucking shocked.
Because this city's too big. Too full. And still, somehow they found each other again.

She thought he was a bartender. A finance guy. A pretty face with a sharp jaw and nothing behind the eyes. She had no idea he was him. The name on every screen. The jersey hanging in every bar.

And now he's in her orbit again, asking questions with his eyes, tugging at threads she's spent years trying to stitch shut.

She carries her past like a diagnosis, incurable. And Quinn sees her. He wants her in a way that has nothing to do with love. This is concussion-level craving.
A full-body, penalty-box, scream-into-the-wall obsession. She's the one thing that makes him forget the rules.

But the closer he gets, the more the past starts bleeding into the present. She's not just a girl he can't forget.

She's the trigger to everything he's spent years burying.

"You don't even remember me."
"Bullshit. You ruined me."