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She wanted to hit me. I wanted to kiss her. That was how it had always been with us.
My girl. I laughed at myself with that thought. Mia Love was far from mine, and yet she was the
Aleksander Suter. Winger for the Tampa Bay Ospreys. Notorious troublemaker.
And owner of my heart since we were teenagers.
She was too good for me back then. She was still too good for me now. Never stopped me from wanting her, though.
“Well, you’re not exactly jumping up and down with excitement, either.”
I smirked. “Is that what you want, Mia? Want me to jump for you?” I leaned toward the camera. “How high, sweetheart?”
I kept my eyes on Mia.
And thought of all the excuses I’d have to touch her now.
“Don’t let them steal your pen when you’re just getting to the good part.”
This was what he was for me, what he’d always been — my rock. Strong and steady and supportive. Even when I was being a

