Home > Risk on Ice (Boys of Winter #11)

Risk on Ice (Boys of Winter #11)
Author: S.R. Grey

Table of Contents

Title Page

Books by S.R. Grey

Chapter One: Against My Better Judgment

Chapter Two: A New Start

Chapter Three: Fallout

Chapter Four: Yes, He’s Hot, but He’s Clearly Trouble

Chapter Five: New Living Arrangements

Chapter Six: Surprise!

Chapter Seven: Off-Limits

Chapter Eight: Caught With my Pants Off

Chapter Nine: I Am So F*cked

Chapter Ten: Catching Some Rays and Some Feels

Chapter Eleven: It’s Getting Hot Out Here

Chapter Twelve: Are We Busted?

Chapter Thirteen: Highs and Lows

Chapter Fourteen: Truce

Chapter Fifteen: Dinner

Chapter Sixteen: Feeling Feisty

Chapter Seventeen: Flirty as F*ck

Chapter Eighteen: Taking A Chance

Chapter Nineteen: All Through the Night

Chapter Twenty: Brutal Honesty

Chapter Twenty-One: Growing Closer

Chapter Twenty-Two: Laid Bare

Chapter Twenty-Three: Did I Really Just Text That?

Chapter Twenty-Four: Here We Go

Chapter Twenty-Five: Just Don’t Hurt Her

Chapter Twenty-Six: A House of Cards

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Something Is Up

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tying Up Loose Ends

Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Decision Made

Chapter Thirty: I Didn’t See That One Coming

Chapter Thirty-One: Why Not?

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Next Move

Epilogue: Our Best Life


Destiny on Ice




Boys of Winter series

Destiny on Ice

Resistance on Ice

Complications on Ice

Caution on Ice

Player on Ice

Vows on Ice

Illusion on Ice

Forbidden on Ice

Bet on Ice

Dare on Ice


Men of Fall series

Forward Progress

Fair Catch

Eligible Receiver

Down by Contact

Hard Count


Judge Me Not series

I Stand Before You

Never Doubt Me

Just Let Me Love You

The After of Us


Inevitability duology

Inevitable Detour

Inevitable Circumstances


Promises series

Tomorrow’s Lies

Today’s Promises


A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy

Harbour Falls

Willow Point

Wickingham Way


Laid Bare novella series

Exposed: Laid Bare 1

Unveiled: Laid Bare 2

Spellbound: Laid Bare 3

Sacrifice: Laid Bare 4



Against My Better Judgment



“Just one little selfie with us?” Viv whines as she flips her long, shimmery platinum hair over one shoulder. “Please, Alex, please. This may be the last one for a while.”

Hmm, she’s got that right. I was just traded from the Florida Panthers hockey team to the Las Vegas Wolves. They need a good, solid defenseman who can score, and I am that.

Anyway, I found out only a day ago. Training camp had just wrapped up when the news came through. I was in the locker room when my agent called, and my teammates, listening in when I switched over to speakerphone so they’d know what was going on, insisted afterward that we go out for one final night of partying.

So here I am, in a private room in the back of an upscale bar in downtown Fort Lauderdale, seated at a table with two very busty, very blonde puck bunny twins who I may or may not have had flings with once upon a time.

Hey, I plead the fifth.

No sense in dwelling on the past, right?


At twenty-five, my wild days are behind me.

Well, mostly.

With that in mind and to keep my ass on the straight and narrow this fine night, I decide I should probably hit the road.

Not only do I have an early flight to Las Vegas tomorrow, but the guys who were here with me earlier left a while ago.

I would’ve taken off, too, and I was about to. But then I detoured to the restrooms to take a leak before leaving and I ran into the twins.

They insisted I spend some time with them, especially since I’m leaving Florida for good.

So back to the private party room we strode.

And here we are.

Sighing, I survey the large round table, strewn with empty beer bottles and an assortment of shot glasses.

Man, what a fun time tonight was.

I’m going to miss my teammates, but at least I know one guy on my new team—Sebastian Alderman. We played together with the Panthers till he was traded last season.

We’ve kept in touch, and I already have plans to have dinner over at his house tomorrow night.

That’ll be good.

Catching up in person is always nice, and I’ll finally get to meet his girlfriend, Bettina. She just recently moved in with him.

Man, I can’t believe Sebastian found love in just a few short months.

Some guys have all the luck.

Shaking my head, I take a quick sip from my glass of ginger ale. Yeah, that’s all I’ve been drinking tonight.

I’m with the Wolves now, and I want to start out on the right foot with my new team. Word is they don’t take too kindly to bad behavior. Hell, they assigned a life coach to their star player, Brent Oliver, his first season.

Talk about tough!

With their hard stance on partying like a rock star forefront in my mind, I turn to Viv and state firmly, “No selfies. Not tonight.”

Her twin sister, Vee, seated on the other side of me, huffs and murmurs something indecipherable. Still, I catch the disappointment in her tone.

Twisting in my chair to face her, I say, “Come again?”

Batting her sad blue eyes and puffing her plump lips out to a full-blown pout, she says, “I was just saying, Alexander Hartwell, that you’re no fun anymore.”

“Sure I am,” I protest. “But, guys, come on.” I wave my hand at their phones on the table. “You two post everything on social media, multiple platforms even. I can’t risk my reputation like that. Not anymore.”

“What does that even mean?” Viv snaps.

She’s clearly offended, but I have an answer. “It’s simple, ladies. I can’t have pictures out there circulating of me seated at a table covered in empty beer bottles and shot glasses.” I nod to their voluptuous bodies, clad in matching low-cut bubblegum-pink halters that leave almost nothing to the imagination, not to mention the white micro minis they have on. Scoffing, I add, “Worse yet, a selfie of me posing in some risqué way with the two of you would not go over well with my new team.”

“Our selfie won’t be risqué,” Vee retorts, scrunching her pert nose in distaste. “We’ll keep it clean.”

I snort. “Ha! Like you have with all our other photos from the past?”

I shudder at the thought of some of the images these two have captured.

Reaching over, Viv smacks my jean-clad thigh. “Oh, stop,” she says. “Those pics were taken a long, long time ago. I’m sure they’ve been forgotten.”

Vee, leaning in close to me, chimes in, “Yeah, and we took all those images down when you asked, dear Alex.”

“Pfft, after the damage was done,” I mumble.

As I rake my fingers through my messy, coppery brown hair and scoot my chair out a bit so they’ll stop crowding me, I plead with my green eyes for the twins to just let this go.

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