Showstopper

I swore I wouldn't do this again. Mix sports, school, and sex. But right now the only thing standing between me and the NHL is six feet of frenemy packed into a pair of formfitting jeans that have me thinking all kinds of things I shouldn't. Mostly how to get him out of them. I don't just want Kolby. I need him. Because I've got to pass this theater class--yeah, I said theater--if I'm going to keep my spot on the team. When tutoring sessions turn into dates-not-dates over Shipley Cider at V...