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I got pucked . . .
Never in a million years did I think that I’d have to become a babysitter in order to secure my place as the publicist for the local NHL team, the Rovers.
Yet here I am, organizing events to help rebuild the public image of their MVP, Mason Raker.
The man may be hot, but his list of issues is longer than the hockey season.
He can’t stay out of trouble to save his life, but he will on my watch. Unless, of course, he’d like to wear a diaper and pacifier to our next event. If you think I’m joking, you’ve got another think coming.
I got saddled with Satan, but I get my revenge with every new costume I force him to wear and every new event he’s mandated to attend.
In all fairness, he’s been a good sport . . . mostly. And he’s more than easy to look at. I can’t help but admit he’s not as bad as I made him out to be. Every time we’re together, he chips away at my walls a little more.
The hate has turned to heat, and sparks are flying. He’s doing major damage to my heart, and that’s just not acceptable.
I’ve got plans. Big ones. And none of them involve spending even one night with the hottie, let alone a lifetime.
Wait . . . what?
Who said anything about forever?
Not me. Nope. No chance.
