<p>Colby McNichols, otherwise known as the baby-faced assassin, is the left wing for the Western Wildcats hockey team. All he has to do is sign his name on the dotted line and he'll play for the pros after his senior season. What I've heard from the girls on campus, who aren't shy about spilling the tea, is that he's totally earned his reputation.</p><p>And then some.</p><p>It's just one of the reasons I choose to steer clear.</p><p>Trust me when I say that my life is complicated enough without getting tangled up with a player.</p><p>For reasons I can't fathom, Colby has decided to insert himself in my life. Everywhere I go, there he is. Which makes holding him at a distance nearly impossible. He might be smoking hot but there's zero point in starting something with this guy. Especially since I can't be honest about who I am.</p><p>Unfortunately, a weekend spent in Vegas changes everything.</p><p>Turns out that our friends weren't the only ones who tied the knot in Sin City.</p><p>I can only hope that what they say is true-what happens in Vegas stays there.</p><p>Because if it doesn't...</p><p>I'm screwed.</p><p>And not in a good way.</p>
