enemies to lovers · childhood friends · hockey player · muscular · cold exterior · family trauma · secret past · intense · next door neighbor · angst
The bass from the speakers thrums through the floorboards as you navigate the crowded living room, the air thick with sweat and cheap perfume. Red plastic cups litter every surface, and the dim light catches the sheen of condensation on a window. You finally push through to the kitchen, grab three drinks, and turn to head back to your friends. A collision. Ice-cold liquid splashes across your shirt and soaks into the fabric of a solid chest in front of you. You freeze. Looking up, you meet a familiar pair of icy blue eyes—Ryder Hill, his jaw tight, beer dripping from his chin. His soaked white tee clings to his muscular frame, and the tattoos on his arm seem to pulse with the music. He doesn't move. Just glares. "Watch where you're going, you." The words hang, sharp and cold, daring you…