Excerpt inside! “Sexy and swoony, Aiden is a perfect book boyfriend.”—Avery Keelan, author of Offside
She’s an honors student with ambitious graduate school plans and he’s a jock with only hockey on his mind, but once their worlds collide, their connection is hot enough to melt an ice rink.
An ultimatum from Summer Preston’s thesis advisor thrusts her into an unexpected collision with the hockey team’s captain, Aiden Crawford. She’s caught between conflicting desires of fulfilling her lifelong dream of becoming a sport psychologist and staying as far away as possible from the god-awful sport. And once she meets Aiden—well, let’s just say he confirms all her worst assumptions about hockey players.
Being the captain of the college hockey team has its perks, except when a reckless mistake by Aiden’s team threatens to jeopardize their entire season. As punishment, Aiden’s coach nominates him as the subject of a student research project. Participating is the last thing he wants to do, especially since the girl leading the project looks like she could wield his skates as a weapon.
Summer can’t stand Aiden’s blasé approach to life, and Aiden doesn’t understand why she’s twenty years old with a twenty-five-year plan. But their bickering soon turns to bantering—and once they let their guards down, there’s nothing to check their feelings.
Bal Khabra is a Canadian writer and book lover. Before she decided to jump into the romance pool, she spent her time gushing about books on social media.
When inspiration strikes, she is found filling her Notes app with ideas for romance novels.
She loves reading about love, watching movies about love, and now, writing about it herself. There really isn’t much else that gets her heart fluttering the way HEAs do.
She fell in love with writing and hopes to continue living out her romance author dreams.
COLLIDE by Bal Khabra
Berkley Trade Paperback | On sale May 14, 2024
Excerpt
She's holding a gun to my head.
Well, figuratively at least.
The gun in question: hockey. The woman holding it: Dr. Laura Langston, Ph.D.
"Hockey?" I repeat. "You want me to do my grad school application on hockey?"
Langston has been my grad school advisor for the past year, but I've been working under her wing since I started at Dalton University.
She's everything I want to be, and I've obsessed over every academic paper she's written. She's kind of my celebrity crush in the nerdiest way possible. With her Ph.D. in sports psychology, countless papers published, and experience with Olympians and athletes around the world, she's inspirational.
Until you get to know her.
When they said Don't meet your heroes, they were talking about Laura Langston. She's the human equivalent of an angry swarm of wasps. There are plenty of professors who treat their students like total garbage and think their fancy piece of paper means they can be tyrants, but Langston is a different species. Her brilliance is undeniable, but she is patronizing, dismissive, and purposely difficult when she knows you need her help.
So, why the hell did I choose her as my advisor? Because her success rate in getting students into Dalton's prestigious master's program is too enticing to ignore. It's the number one program in North America and students vetted by her are guaranteed acceptance. Not to mention she chooses who will be eligible for co-op-a competitive program that allows one student from our cohort to work with Team USA. It's been my dream from the age of eight, so I'll suffer through her monstrous dictatorship if it means I'll soon have my own master's degree in sports psychology.
"You need to start using your resources to your advantage, Summer." She surveys me above the rims of her glasses. "I know you hate hockey, but this is your last chance to submit a solid application."
The word hate slips past her lips as if my aversion to the sport is completely fabricated. Considering she's one of the few people who know why I stay far away from the icy rink and the similarly icy men skating on it, I barely keep my composure. Sticking me right in the center of that blue circle with an empirical research study that determines the fate of my future is pure evil. An evil only Dr. Langston and her molten heart can manage.
"But why hockey? I'll choose football. Basketball. Even curling. I don't care." Does Dalton even have a curling team?
"Exactly. You don't care. I need you to do something you care about. Something you feel strongly about. Hence hockey."
I hate that she's right. Sweeping aside her overall ominous nature, she is a smart woman. I mean she didn't get her Ph.D. for nothing, but being her student is a double-edged sword.
"But-"
She lifts a hand. "I won't approve anything else. Do this or lose your spot. The choice is yours." It's like the universe sent me my very own Fuck You in the form of my professor. Years of working my ass off in undergrad only to be told hockey is my saving grace. What a joke. Clenching my fists, I swallow the urge to scream. "That isn't much of a choice, Dr. Langston."
"If you can't do this, then I overestimated your potential, Summer." Her voice grows sharp. "I have four students who would kill to have your spot, but I took you under my wing. Don't make me regret this."
She didn't exactly choose to take me under her wing. I had a 4.2 GPA and killer reference letters. Not to mention the extremely difficult advisor's exam she implemented last year to pick out the best students. I got food poisoning from the campus cafeteria that week, but I still dragged myself to the exam. I beat every student, and I'll be damned if they take my spot now.
"I understand what you're saying, but as you know, I'm not very fond of hockey. For good reason, might I add, and I doubt my research will be an accurate representation, considering that."
"Either you get over your apprehension or lose what you've worked for."
Apprehension?
Ignoring the pointed jab feels like trying to ignore a bullet lodged in my sternum. "There's no reason why I can't choose basketball. Coach Walker would happily let me collaborate with one of his players."
"Coach Kilner has already agreed to allow one of my students to work with his players. Get me your completed proposal by the end of the week or forfeit your spot, Ms. Preston." Her dismissal is clear when she twists away from me in her chair.
If I could commit one crime and get away with it, I have a feeling it would include Dr. Langston.
"Okay. Thank you," I mutter. She's typing aggressively on her computer, probably making another student's life a living hell. I imagine she goes home and crosses off the names of students she has successfully tormented. My name and the doll she sticks pins into are at the top of that list today.
I've successfully avoided everything to do with hockey for the past three years, only for it to be my front and center for the next few months. I'm beyond screwed, and I have to suck up my distaste for the sport of my Canadian ancestors.
I use all my willpower to not slam her door on the way out.
Excerpted from Collide by Bal Khabra Copyright © 2024 by Bal Khabra. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved.
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