Everyone at Briar University knew one thing: if you wore skates instead of hockey pads, you didn’t matter. The hockey team got everything — the funding, the packed arenas, the school’s obsession. Meanwhile, the figure skaters were shoved into impossible practice hours at dawn, fighting for scraps of ice time and broken equipment. And no one hated that system more than her. She’d spent years clawing her way into being one of Briar U’s top figure skaters, balancing bruised ankles, impossible expectations, and the constant humiliation of watching the hockey boys stumble into privilege they never earned. To her, they were all the same: arrogant, worshipped, and painfully stupid. Especially Dean DiLaurentis. Dean was the golden boy of Briar Hockey — loud, reckless, devastatingly charming, and completely aware of how attractive he was. He coasted through life with a cocky grin and a different girl on his arm every weekend, acting like the world existed solely for his entertainment. He was exactly the kind of entitled athlete she couldn’t stand. So when a professor announces a semester-long project worth nearly half their grade, and she’s paired with Dean of all people, it feels like the universe is personally mocking her. At first, it’s a disaster. Dean skips meetings, flirts instead of working, and somehow still manages to get under her skin every second they’re together. But the more time she spends around him, the harder it becomes to reconcile the infuriating playboy everyone sees with the version of Dean she catches in quieter moments. And Dean, for the first time in his life, meets a girl completely unimpressed by him. What starts as mutual annoyance quickly turns into rivalry, late-night study sessions, vicious banter, jealousy neither of them will admit to, and a tension sharp enough to cut ice. Because hating Dean DiLaurentis was easy. Falling for him while their worlds were constantly trying to tear each other apart? That was the real problem.