The Kiss Connection (eBook)

Love is complicated … dating shouldn’t have to be.

Juniper Snow has never had any luck with dating apps or dating, for that matter.

When her best friend convinces her to try The Kiss Connection, she agrees, if only to shut her up.

Myles Dax, rookie left winger for the Ice Dragons, finally has the career he’s always dreamed of, playing professional hockey, but he’s missing something…

His friend Conrad convinces him to try out the newest dating app, but when Conrad swipes right on the same girl he’s swiftly catching feelings for…

Everything becomes a lot more complicated.

Myles 
Her blue eyes sparkle and that black and red plaid skirt is positively sinful. She catches me staring and offers me a smile before returning all of her attention to her boyfriend.
Lucky bastard.
At least I assume it’s her boyfriend; he’s stealing her attention at the bar, sitting on the stool beside her. She stands there in that miniskirt with those perfectly shaped legs. 
I’ve never been so hard just looking at a woman before, but there’s something about her. The dark raven hair, baby-blue eyes, white blouse that is open and tied at her waist with a hint of a black crop top beneath that has me trying to remember to keep my tongue in my mouth.
“She’s cute.” My brother, Archer, saddles up beside me, noticing me staring at her.
Shit.
If I’m being that obvious, I really need to cool off.
“She’s nothing,” I say, forcing the words out. My mouth is dry; it’s a bar, so there’s an easy fix to that problem, but coming here tonight was not my idea.
90s night.
Who the hell thought that a 90s night theme at Blue Line would be a good idea? This place is known best for serving the Ice Dragons hockey team after a win. 
But I can’t fault them for trying something new on a night when we’re not playing a game. 
There are several ladies wearing Britney outfits in a few different styles, but the one who caught my gaze, she wears it best.
I never even knew I had a thing for Britney, let alone the schoolgirl look, but holy hell, dress like that and I’d fall right to my knees for that girl.
Not for Britney. 
No, for the girl standing by the boyfriend. I’d like to think he’s just some guy she met tonight. She’ll take one look at me, dump him, and saunter over with a purpose. That purpose? She’ll kiss me.
I’d buy her a drink, offer her to dance, maybe even shove her up against the door of her car while I tongue-fuck her if that’s what she’d like, before offering to take her back to my place. I’d do anything she asks of me.
Anything.
Rob a bank. Throw myself into oncoming traffic. Hell, I’d even steal a police cruiser and go on a high-speed chase if it made her pay a lick of attention to me.
Fuck, it’s getting hot in here. I wipe my brow beading with sweat and stalk toward the bar, near her.
I need her to notice me again and pay attention to me.
I’ve never felt so hard up for a girl I haven’t even spoken to yet. 
Seriously, never.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Is that what they mean when they say love at first sight? I’m not claiming to be in love; that’s a hard pass. I’m not sure I’ve ever been, but there’s something about her that makes me stare.
I can’t take my gaze off of her.
She’s enchanting, captivating, and I want her to be mine.
“Josh, that’s not funny,” she groans, and I can easily see she’s not happy with her date. She pushes him away. It almost looks playful, but I’m not sure that it entirely is on her part.
That makes me happy. I shouldn’t be basking in her misery. I just don’t want her with that dude. He looks like a gangster with his thick gold chains hanging around his neck.
Is that his 90s costume? Because he looks like shit.
How did Britney end up with a guy like him?
I gesture to the bartender and order shots for me and my brother. He disappeared off to the restroom or somewhere. Knowing Archer, he’s playing tonsil hockey with the next girl who flirts with him. Wouldn’t be the first time the puck bunnies found us at a bar. 
After all, this is Blue Line.
We play professional hockey. Archer is recognizable by most around town. Doesn’t hurt that he likes wearing his jersey out in public, just to make sure he’s noticed.
Me? I prefer a girl to like me for me, not because of my hockey stick.
The bartender brings me four shots, and there’s still no sign of Archer. He sure as hell knows how to get lost. Usually, it’s at the most inopportune time.
The douche sitting next to Britney gets up, whispers something in her ear which forces a fake smile out of her. He strides down the hall, presumably toward the bathroom. I hope he takes a long ass while. Maybe he’ll get locked in the stall.
“Nice outfit,” I say, glancing at her, trying my one chance for her to notice me. I don’t want to seem too forward and throw a ridiculous line at her that will have her cringing, especially if she’s taken.
“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or insulting me for wearing the same thing as a half-dozen other girls in here.” She appears slightly miffed.
“You wear it best,” I say, making my point absolutely clear.
Her cheeks redden, and it’s that flush that I imagine wandering down all of her body. She smiles weakly, but it looks far more genuine than the forced grin with the boyfriend. “Thanks. You look,” she glances me up and down, “like you didn’t realize it was 90s night.”
“I didn’t get the page,” I say, and that gets a genuine laugh, until I realize it’s not so genuine and she’s got a knack for pretending.
Turns out the girl is great at faking things. Laughter. Smiles. Shit. My mind should not be going to other things, but it is.
Does she fake it with him?
Her eyes twinkle as they tighten. She tilts her head, staring at me. “You’re cute, but that was … a bad 90s joke.”
I hold a hand to my heart. “Ouch. I guess I’ll have to take comedian off my resume.”
She smiles and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll recover.” 
Time is running out on the clock, and I need to take my shot with the puck. “You think I’m cute?”
“Yes, but I’m with someone.” She points at the guy coming back from the bathroom. She leans closer, just enough that I can smell her perfume, and it’s intoxicating, like violets and vanilla. “Don’t judge me too harshly for looking like every other Britney in here, it’s not like I knew what to expect. First time coming in here with my date and all…”
I open my mouth to ask her about her date, and he grabs the seat next to her. Getting a better look at him, he’s dressed as a 90s rapper, which explains him wearing a black baseball hat sideways, gold chains, an old T-shirt, and black jeans.
“Is this guy bothering you?” Douche asks her.
I don’t catch his name, and I don’t want to either. He’s a nobody to me, just another guy at the bar hitting on a pretty lady.
“No, he’s fine. He was just asking me why everyone was dressed up.” She covers for me a little too smoothly.
“Oh.” He turns toward me to answer, as if whatever response she gave wasn’t enough. “It’s 90s night. Once a month the bar puts together themed nights when patrons get dressed up from the decade. I’m a rapper; my date here is Britney Spears.” He grabs her ass, his hand going under her plaid skirt, and it takes everything in my power not to throw him down against the top of the bar and smash his face into the wood.
“Cool. Cool.” I reach for the shots that I ordered and down one, deciding now is a great time to get hammered. Getting mansplained about bar theme nights is not what I had in mind for tonight, while he’s feeling up the girl I’m crushing.
After the second shot, my mind pauses for a second.
He referred to her as his date not his girlfriend. 
Not that it matters. She turns, her back to me and he grabs her by the waist, pulling her onto his lap.
He grumbles, complaining that she’s too heavy and could stand to lose a few pounds, I bite my tongue. That woman is a fucking goddess. She’s got the perfect amount of curves; she could sit on my face, cut off my air supply, and I’d die a happy man.
I have to walk or I’m going to land my ass in jail for assault.
How dare anyone talk to her like that.
Finding my brother in the hallway toward the bathroom playing tonsil hockey, I knew that’d be the case; it always is with him. I kick him in the shins as I stalk by.
Turns out I’m still pissed from Douche commenting on Britney’s perfect body.
Archer opens his eyes mid-kiss before pulling away. “I’ve got to head out, put my little brother to bed,” he says, mocking me.
He kisses her one last time goodbye, with tongue, before we head past Britney and out of the bar, making our way home.
* * *
I’m absolutely pathetic. 
I can’t stop thinking about her. I try to blow off steam during the game, but I only feel more riled up after our win. I shower, change clothes, and ask the guys who wants to hit up the bar for drinks tonight.
Just about everyone is in. Whenever we win, it’s hard not to want to celebrate, especially a home game.
“You have to tell me what’s gotten into you?” Archer doesn’t miss a beat as we head into the bar.
Fuck.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
“Nothing doesn’t put a hop and a skip in your step, Myles. You’re giddy as fuck.”
“You’re imagining things, bro. Just soaring from a win.”
“I’m not imagining shit.” He glances at me long and hard, like he’s studying me. “I’d swear by your demeanor you got laid last night. Except we live in the same apartment, and you haven’t brought a girl home in … forever.”
I’ve been meaning to move out, get my own place, now that I’ve got a first-year contract and can afford rent. 
But now that I’ve got the job, I’ve been too busy to look around, and quite frankly, I like Archer’s building. It’s nice, upscale, has a lot of perks. Finding out if there’s another apartment free in his building would just get me handed more shit. 
Archer and I get along pretty well. We’re half-brothers; turns out our dad must have the hockey gene because we both play a mean game on the ice.
“Does your dick even work, bro?” Archer asks.
“Fuck off. It hasn’t been that long.” The guys from the team are right on my heels. I don’t need them hearing about my non-existent sex life.
“Are you paying for one of those Only Fans girls?” Archer mocks. “Just because you’re not paying me rent doesn’t mean you should be blowing it on porn.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
It’s not like I couldn’t get a girl to hook up with me. I’ve had my fair share of offers lately. And I’m definitely not a virgin. I just don’t give a shit about one-night stands or online hookups. 
Right now, my focus is on hockey. Before that, it was on college, and then, making it into the NHL. My priorities have always been hockey before girlfriends. My love life hasn’t been overly active, but I’ve worked hard to achieve my dreams, and girlfriend has been at the bottom of that list.
I step inside. It’s a Thursday night and the place is crawling. There’s also no sign of her at Blue Line. 
My teammates pile in behind me, heading straight for our usual table in the back, while I head to the bar to start our order.
Archer is practically glued to me tonight. “You do know you don’t have to marry the next girl you sleep with, right? You could just have a fling. Even friends with benefits, if you’re so inclined.”
I glare at him. “I’m aware of how all of it works. I don’t need lessons from my big brother.” And what’s with all the questions?
It’s evident Britney isn’t here tonight.
Bummer. 
I grab a bucket of beers for the guys and bring it to the table in the back, grabbing a seat next to Conrad. He’s a first year, like me, on the team. We’ve become pretty good friends over the past couple of months.
“Hey, check out this new dating app.” Conrad shows it to me.
“The Kiss Connection?” I read the app’s logo as he opens it on his phone. “Never heard of it.”
“Like I said, it’s new. It’s a local app, supposed to be more tailored to girls who are interested in actually meeting guys and not just stringing them along on an app.”
I groan. “I hate apps. I’ve had some of my worst dates from one of those popular sites. Everyone is always so superficial, lying about their picture or their age by ten years.”
Conrad grimaces. “Dude, I’m not dating a fifteen-year-old. That’s some sick shit.”
“You know what I mean.” I knock his arm. “The twenty-five-year-olds are probably closer to forty. Come on, we can meet plenty of women without using some dumbass app. It’s not like we have any trouble getting numbers.”
He shows me his open app, quickly scrolling through the profiles of the dozens of young and hot singles our age.
Swipe left.
Swipe left.
Swipe right.
I shouldn’t give a shit who he likes or doesn’t. But it feels wrong, deciding solely based on someone’s picture whether you match with them. Even the profiles feel inadequate. 
Swipe left.
Swipe left.
I’m more than a little bored watching his swiping habits, until he pauses over my girl. He swipes right and my blood instantly boils.
“You just swiped right.” The air leaves my lungs, and heat radiates through me. Oh, hell no, we both cannot like the same woman.
“Yeah, she’s cute. What, you don’t think she’s a real person?” 
“Definitely a catfish,” I say. “I’ve seen that profile on numerous other dating sites. Tried talking to her once.” I down the rest of my beer. “She has a boyfriend. Probably looking for a threesome with another guy.”
Conrad makes a face and shuts off the app. He turns off his screen, leaving his phone on the table beside him. He sips his beer and grins as a smug look crosses his face. “Look who just dropped in.”
I glance toward the door in the direction Conrad is facing and see what all the commotion is about.
Former Ice Dragons hockey star, Jasper Greyson, steps into the bar. He retired last year, still comes to all the hockey games. There were rumors that he’d been offered a coaching position and also a sportscasting job, but he hadn’t taken either gig.
His public statement is that he’s taking a little time with his family. After playing six years and making millions, it’s not like he’s hurting for money.
He’s newly married, so it’s probably that honeymoon phase where they can’t be apart from one another for more than a few minutes. I remember my cousin Veronica when she married Sadie. Those two were inseparable.
Jasper strides in with a cute brunette on his arm, who is so short it makes Jasper appear even taller than he already is. I smirk and nod toward him as he notices our crew in the back. He gives a lopsided grin, and they join us at our table.
The fucking Jasper Greyson is drinking with us. 
My head swims.
I’ve seen him at games. I’ve heard whispers that he might join us for a drink from the older players who have at best another season in them, but it’s the first time it’s actually happened. 
“You guys did great tonight,” Jasper says. “Congrats! Always love sticking it to the Bruisers.”
We all laugh, knowing they’re a huge rival in our division.
There’s a lot of chatter, the bar gets incredibly lively, especially as other patrons start filing in and notice us. They also notice Jasper, who is a legend. 
If I weren’t seated at the same table as he was, I’d probably be ogling him too. He’s one of my hockey idols. I’ve followed his career since his older brother joined the Ice Dragons. The two of them were an unstoppable force.
It’s what I’ve imagined it would be like with Archer. Except Archer plays right defense and I’m left wing. 
* * *
Lying in bed, I do the unthinkable and download the app Conrad showed me at the bar, The Kiss Connection. Is it wrong that I’d scroll through every girl just to find her?
I’m not even sure when I’ll find time to date with all the daily practice drills we do, not to mention the away games, weightlifting, and running in the early mornings. Professional hockey is more than just a full-time job, it’s a lifestyle. Someone I date has to understand that and be able to accept it. 
Honestly, it’d be easier to just shack up with a girl and not get romantically involved. There are plenty of puck bunnies who are willing to offer lip service.
I like a good blow job as much as the next guy, but I can’t get the girl from the bar out of my head.
Those piercing blue eyes I can’t stop thinking about. And those sultry lips. Her dark hair. That laugh.
I swear to myself I’m not going to stroke one out thinking about her. I’m not a perv, but when I’m scrolling through the ladies on the dating app and I’m pretty sure that smile is one hundred percent her, my hand rearranges my dick. Yeah, it’s twitching and jumpy, almost as much as my heart.
Juniper.
Okay, that’s a start. 
I’ve got her first name.
And now I can contact her.

1. The Kiss Connection
2. Blind Date with a Hockey Player 
3. My Hockey Roommate

Upon purchase, you will immediately receive an email providing access to your Ebook(s) from BookFunnel. Click that link and follow the instructions to read online or download the Ebook to your Kindle, iPhone, Android, Nook or Kobo device.

If you have any issues accessing your purchased Ebook, there is a Need Help? link at the top right corner of the book download page. If you do not receive a download email, visit https://bookfunnel.com/help/.