~~Cole~~
I’ve been in love with my therapist.
No—not just in love. It was hunger. Madness.
It’s only been three weeks since the team assigned her to me after the accident on the ice, three weeks since she walked into that sterile little room and sat across from me with her notepad and calm voice. Three weeks since my life stopped being about hockey and started being about her.
She’s supposed to fix my head. Help me sleep again. Help me manage the anger, the nightmares, the broken pieces rattling around inside me.
But the first time she looked me dead in the eye—calm, steady, like she could see everything—I knew.
She wasn’t just beautiful. She was made for me.
Carved by heaven only to be ruined by my hands.
Yes, she’s off-limits. Yes, there are rules. Boundaries. Professional lines.
