Trouble (The Creed Legacy #2)

Prologue

Presley

AUGUST

I’m never drinking again.

My skull feels like it’s being used in a drum line. I’m pretty sure I’m sweating some sort of alcohol—god, is that tequila?—out of my pores, and my stomach is both growling and queasy at the same time.

I crack an eyelid open and try to wipe away the remnants of last night’s mascara while simultaneously blocking out the sun.

Jesus, that’s bright.

What did I do last night to earn this hellish hangover?

Or maybe the right question is what didn’t I do?

As a bartender, I should know better than this. I really should. But when your thirtieth birthday trip gets shot to hell because your ex-boyfriend decides to fuck you over—and I mean really fuck you over—normal rules don’t apply.

This was supposed to be a romantic weekend for two. I’d planned it months ago. Non-refundable, of course.

So instead of sightseeing and dinners out on the strip, I spent my time getting wasted by the pool, trying to forget all about Jace and his stupid…

A deep groan pierces the silence.

Oh god, I didn’t.

I peek over to the other side of the bed.

Oh god, I did.

I let out a high-pitched shriek, pulling the sheets up to my eyeballs. Am I naked? “What the fuck?”

I must have one hell of a hangover, because it’s only then that I notice my surroundings. My eyes widen. This is definitely not the hotel room I started my trip in.

Believe me, I would have remembered.

Compared to the standard queen I checked into a few days earlier, this room might as well be a palace.

It’s like the kind of suite you see in movies reserved for high rollers.

I once saw this movie where the casino offered some hotshot poker player a suite just like this.

That’s how nice it is. There are floor-to-ceiling windows, a full bar, and a large sitting area.

The bed is so massive, no wonder I didn’t notice my mystery man sleeping next to me.

Speaking of…

God, I can’t even remember the last time I had a one-night stand. This is so embarrassing. I glance over, and although most of his body is hidden underneath the sheets, I do get an eyeful of defined pecs and ripped biceps.

Okay, Mystery Man isn’t looking too bad so far.

My eyes move upward until I’m staring into a set of familiar green eyes. Oh my god…

“Hollis?”

“Hey, Pres.” His voice sounds different in person, and I feel a shiver run down my spine as I hear my name roll off his tongue.

“I’d say long time no see, but we seem to have already reacquainted ourselves.” He clears his throat.

I’ll say…

I haven’t seen Hollis Beck since high school. Until two months ago, I hadn’t spoken to him in twelve years. But that’s all we’ve done—talked and sent a ton of texts. This is the first time I’ve seen him as an adult.

And what a fine adult he’s turned out to be.

My cheeks pinken. How could they not? I’m hungover and in bed with my brother’s best friend from high school.

“Yeah,” I nervously chew my bottom lip and pull the sheet tighter against my body.

I realize then that I am not, in fact, naked—just nearly.

I’m stripped down to a lace bra and panties.

“Do you remember what we…” I blush again.

Jesus.

“No, all I remember is our phone call the day before yesterday. When I found out you were here by yourself—”

“You flew out to surprise me,” I say, finishing his sentence.

He nods with a sheepish smile. Hollis Beck has always been good-looking. When he moved to Malibu, every girl in school wanted to date him. Now, he’s just stupid hot. His auburn-brown curls are longer than I remember and contrast perfectly with his soft green eyes.

“I do remember that.”

Now that he mentioned it, that part of my birthday is returning.

He called me and said he had something delivered to the hotel for my birthday, and I needed to go down to the lobby to collect it.

I expected to find flowers or a box of chocolates.

Instead, I see Hollis standing in the lobby with a small suitcase and a huge grin.

I couldn’t believe he had dropped everything to fly all the way from Nashville to be with me on my birthday.

“But everything after we left the hotel is sort of blurry. I remember walking around Vegas and maybe having drinks at a bar?”

His lips part in a silent gasp, and I see his eyes go alarmingly wide. Does he remember something? Is there a spider? I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just stares intensely at my…boobs? No, those are hidden under the sheet.

I look down and realize I’m still clutching the sheet with my—

Now, it’s my turn to gasp.

Because resting on my hand is a slim gold band.

“Oh, no, no, no,” I start chanting like it will somehow do something. Like the foreign piece of jewelry on my finger will vanish if I simply will it away with enough words.

My eyes dart across the bed in hopes that I’m just jumping to conclusions. Maybe I just bought myself a present?

But Hollis is already holding out his left hand, staring at the matching gold band on his own ring finger.

“What the fuck did we do?”

“I think we got married.”