I didn’t plan on spending the night with the younger, brooding hockey player who barely says a word. But when a freak snowstorm shuts down Atlanta, I end up stranded—with one bed, one blanket, and Cal Reid.

I plan every holiday down to the minute. The playlists. The lights. The smiles.
He doesn’t even like Christmas.

He’s quiet, all rough edges and muscle, heat rolling off him in the dark. When our knees brush, the air changes. When his voice drops to a whisper, I forget every rule I’ve ever made about men like him.

He’s younger. Off-limits. Everything I shouldn’t want.

But his touch feels like fire against winter skin, and the storm outside isn’t the only thing melting.