Playboy Playmaker

PLAYBOY PLAYMAKER MAREN MOORE CONTENTS Playlist 1. Hudson 2. Hudson 3. Hudson 4. Hudson 5. Caroline 6. Hudson 7. Caroline 8. Caroline 9. Hudson 10. Caroline 11. Hudson 12. Caroline 13. Hudson 14. Caroline 15. Hudson 16. Caroline 17. Hudson 18. Hudson 19. Caroline 20. Hudson 21. Caroline 22. Caroline 23. Hudson 24. Hudson Epilogue Also By Maren Moore Complete series Chapter One About the Author Acknowledgments Copyright © 2023 by Maren Moore/R. Holmes All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, organizations, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The authors do not have any control over and do not assume any responsibility for authors’ or third-party websites or their content. Cover Design: Cat with TRC Designs For the girls who go after whatever they want with fire in their hearts and no hesitation to be seen. This one’s for you. PLAYLIST Play with Fire-Sam Tinnesz feat Yacht Money Nobody Gets Me- SZA i’m yours- Isabel LaRosa messy in heaven- venue, goddard. One Life- Dermot Kennedy STARWALKIN- Lil Nas X Very Few Friends- Saint Levant I Guess- Saint Levant Sure Thing- Miguel Collide- Justine Skye, Tyga Your Heart Or Mine- Jon Pardi Downfall- Julian June Wildcard- Miley Cyrus White Roses- Casual Sex Fast Car- Luke Combs These Boots Are Made for Walking’- Jessica Simpson Click here to listen to the full playlist on Spotify 1 HUDSON “You do realize staring at it isn’t going to make her text back, right?” I say, nodding toward the phone in Chaney’s hand, which he’s been staring at for the past fifteen minutes while everyone around us is celebrating our hard-earned Stanley Cup win. The win I should also be celebrating, but instead, I’ve been at this table with the rookie, nursing the same beer for far too long. He hesitates before dragging his eyes to meet mine. “I believe in manifestation, okay? Power of the mind.” Tapping his finger along his temple, he smirks, then glances back down at his phone. “Fuck, you’re right. She is ghosting me. How the fuck does this keep happening to me?” “I dunno, maybe you’re trying too hard? Too clingy? You know, you really are like a younger version of Adams,” I say, mentioning my best friend, Graham, who once was the rookie but is now retired and living in Tennessee. “Of course, I get stuck babysitting the rookie. Not once, but twice. History repeating itself,” I groan, then take another pull of my lukewarm beer. “Yeah, well, we’re the last men standing, so it’s me or daddy daycare. Take your pick, Rome.” Annoying as he is, and surprisingly charming too… he’s also right. Even if I won’t ever be admitting that to him. I glance around the crowded room and find my friends and teammates throughout the swarm of people. Reed and Briggs are gleefully chasing the youngest kids around the room while Holland, Reed’s wife, watches and sips her sparkling water with a small smirk on her red lips. Maddison, Briggs’ wife, clinks her glass against Holland’s, and they both laugh while watching the fiasco unfold. Asher and Auden are in deep conversation with Coach Evans while their son, Alex, has his head bent with Evan, Reed’s nephew, looking at the glowing game held between them. Man, everything has changed. Shit is so different now, and I think there’s a little part of me that wishes that things stayed the same. We used to spend our nights in the bar, getting into whatever trouble we could find. Young, freshly drafted to one of the best hockey teams in the country with the world at our fingertips—Chicago was our playground. Now, we spend our days at a literal playground, keeping their kids out of trouble instead of making our own. The guys joke all the time that when everyone retires from hockey, they’ll just open a daddy daycare since these fuckers have enough kids to fill their own. I mean, honestly, what the fuck is my life? Reed, Briggs, and Asher are my best friends and my teammates on the Avalanches, Chicago’s reigning Stanley Cup champions. But they’re more than that—they’re family. My brothers. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but as much as I love my nieces and nephews, I’d rather not be stuck home on a Saturday night changing diapers and spoon-feeding toddlers. I’m the cool uncle that lets them stay up way past their bedtime and then sends them back home on a sugar overload for their parents to deal with. Other than that, I’m out. So, Chaney’s right. It’s just us left. The only two of our crew that don’t have a ball and chain in the form of wives and children. We’re the last standing bachelors. He’s the rookie of the team, the last to join our tight-knit circle, and even though I give him shit, I actually do like the kid. But I wasn’t just saying that when I said he is a mini version of Adams. He might be worse, and none of us can handle not one but two of those dramatic fuckers. Not that Graham is really around anyway right now. He went and fell in love with Reed’s younger sister, Emery, and they had twin girls. Now they live in his hometown, and we only see them on holidays. “What’s your deal tonight, anyway?” Chaney asks, his brows bunching together as he finally glances up from his phone again. “We’re supposed to be celebrating. We won the fucking Stanley Cup, and you’re being grumpy as fuck, ruining my vibe.” I narrow my eyes at him, starting to