Chapter One
ASTON
My family has thrown some pretty amazing parties over the years, but while my family is Texas classy, Liam Pitz and Alie Grant’s wedding is New York classy.
I’ve never seen anything like it—white flowers everywhere, twinkling lights, and lots of sparkle.
Even after my last two years in the league and the parties and events I’ve had to attend, nothing compares to this. This … is old money, Hamptons money.
Hell, this place is so big that my friends and I have a place to stay for the night in several of the guest cabins around the property.
The sun has gone down, so the air is finally cooler. Most of the stuffy guests have thinned out, and those of us left are getting hammered. I got rid of my light suit jacket a while ago and just set my favorite gray Stetson on my table before wandering over to the bar.
I’m ready to have some fun with my teammates and friends from Walker University. Two of my brothers, Archie and Aiden, are here. Well, Archie is here. I’m not sure where Aiden is. He was supposed to be here in time for the ceremony.
The bartender is currently fighting a losing battle against a room full of professional athletes, former college athletes, and the women who tolerate them. I fit myself into an open space at the bar and hold up a hand to get the bartender’s attention. He walks over, looking frazzled.
“Just a Miller Lite.”
He nods and pulls a bottle out of the cooler behind him, pops the cap, then hands it to me.
As I stand there, people-watching, I take a drink from my beer, then unbutton a few buttons of my shirt to give me a little breathing room since I’m about to have some fun with my crew. My gaze roams around the room and then stops when the crowd parts.
Holy shit.
She’s here. How is she here?
Evangeline Carrington.
My lungs completely forget how to do their one job.
It’s been two years since she walked out of my twin brother’s life, taking a piece of his pride and apparently my ability to breathe with her. She’s leaning against the edge of a high-top table, holding a glass of champagne.
She looks devastating. Her dark hair is in loose waves, hitting her shoulders, and she’s wearing an emerald-green silk dress that cuts low enough in the front to make a man lose his religion and high enough on the thigh to make him curse the inventor of the fabric.
The green makes her eyes pop from across the damn room.
She still has that quick, sharp smile—the one with the single dimple in her left cheek that used to haunt my pregame warm-ups back at Walker.
“Hey, Fifty-Four,” a voice barks in my ear, pulling me out of my trance. Silas Arbuckle, one of my old teammates and friends, slams a hand on my shoulder, nearly sloshing his whiskey all over my shirt. “Sup, Griff? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Worse,” I mutter, my eyes tracking Eva as she tilts her head back to take a sip of champagne. “Eva’s here.”
“Eva?” Silas follows my gaze, his eyebrows shooting up. “Oh shit. Carrington. Is that why Ace isn’t here?”
“Ace is currently in Cabo with a swimsuit model named Soleil, so, no, Eva isn’t the reason he’s not here,” I say, my voice dropping an octave when Eva suddenly turns her head.
Right toward me.
The room falls away. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the horrible “Cupid Shuffle” remix playing in the background.
All of it just went to static noise. Her eyes lock onto mine, and for a split second, a hesitant, guarded look flickers across her face.
But then the corner of her mouth ticks up in a dangerous challenge of a smirk.
She doesn’t look away. And neither do I.
“Go say hi then,” Silas says, giving me a shove. “But if you get murdered by the Ghost of Your Brother’s Past Relationships, I’m taking your truck.”
“Fuck off,” I say, laughing, but as he leaves, I can’t help but stare her way.
I see my brother Archie and Emma walk over to her and hug her.
Then she laughs at something he said, tilting her head back just enough for that familiar smile to steal every ounce of my attention.
Then comes the habit I remember from college—her tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before wrapping both hands around her wineglass.
It is such a small thing, but somehow, it still undoes me.
Time has been good to her. Damn. Her skin still looks impossibly soft, and her dress hugs her in all the right places. If anything, she’s gotten even more beautiful. And beauty wasn’t even the best part. She was always witty, quick with a joke, and so self-assured.
My brother was one lucky bastard to have a year with her because he had the chance I never took.
Three years ago, I stood at that party with every intention of asking her out. One sentence. That was all it would have taken. But my twin got there first. The difference between us isn’t luck. It’s courage. And I told myself if I ever had the chance again to ask her out, I’d take it.
Unlike my brother, I'd never let her walk away.
Before I can take a step, a heavy arm wraps around my neck, dragging me back a few inches.
“Nope,” a voice growls.
“What the fuck?” I look over my shoulder at my brother Aiden, who must have just gotten here.
“Oh no.”
I lift a brow at his concerned tone. “What?”
“Your face.”
“What about my face?”
“It tells me you’re about to make a horrible decision.”
“I’m not making any decisions,” I huff.
“You’re staring at our brother—your twin’s—ex-girlfriend.”
I pull my gaze away from Evangeline to look at him, grinning.
“I’m looking at the floral arrangements.” I put a hand on my chest.
Unlike Archie, Ace, and me, Aiden skipped the football field entirely for a sheet of ice.
Maybe just to escape the Texas heat. He’s a professional hockey player, built like a brick wall, with a jawline that’s seen its fair share of hockey stick blades, and he carries that distinct rink energy into every room he enters.
He’s holding a beer, his eyes darting between me and where Eva is standing next to Archie and Emma.
“Bullshit.” He laughs.
I turn to hug him. “When did you get in?”
“An hour ago. Sucked to miss the ceremony, but I wasn’t gonna miss the free booze.
It’s the good shit,” Aiden says, taking a long pull of his beer.
He leans in closer, his voice dropping into a serious, protective brother tone he only uses when one of us is about to do something profoundly stupid.
“Look, I see who you’re looking at. Do you think it’s a good idea, Aston? ”
I shift my weight, feeling defensive. “What do you mean? I’m just going over to say hi. Archie and Emma are talking to her. What’s the big deal? We’re both adults.”
“Right. Because you always look like you’re trying to undress someone when you’re just saying hi,” Aiden counters, raising an eyebrow.
“Ace’s ex. The only ex who managed to turn our brother into a mess for six solid months.
Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you told me one drunken night a few years ago about you wanting her first. You sure you want to skate into that zone? ”
“It’s been over for a long time,” I mumble, my eyes sliding back to Eva. She’s still looking at me, her smirk widening as she watches me get lectured by my brother. “And Ace is in Mexico with another woman.”
“Out of sight, out of mind doesn’t work with family, little brother,” Aiden warns, tapping my chest with his knuckles. “Don’t start something you aren’t ready to finish. If something happens between you and her, don’t ask me to help you fix it with Ace.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away. “Go find one of these rich girls to hit on.”
Aiden lets out a rough laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I leave him by the bar and cut through the crowd, my heart doing that familiar stupid rhythm it only ever did around her.
As I get closer, the rest of the Walker crew joins Archie, Emma, and Eva, crowding around the cluster of tables near the dance floor, and it’s pure chaos.
Archie and Emma banter about his signature dance moves looking like a striptease as he grinds up on her.
“Darlin’, don’t act like you don’t like it. Just the other night—”
Emma covers his mouth with her hand. “Archie, no.”
He removes her hand, then leans in and whispers something in her ear, making her drop her head back and laugh.
I stand opposite Eva, and though we’re surrounded by a group of people, I am so in tune with her every movement.
I’m looking at the person talking, but my focus is on her.
It feels like I’m in college all over again, and I swear I have never felt more like a kid with a crush on a girl than I do when I’m around her.
Next to us, Charlie and Beck Linson are taking shots of tequila like we aren’t responsible adults now. I mean, shit, they’re parents now too.
“To the groom!” Charlie yells, slamming her empty glass on the round top.
“To Pitzy!” We all hold up our drinks and nod to Liam, standing among the group.
Poor Alie looks like she’s not sure what to make of us.
“I’m just saying,” Casey King, a friend and one of my old teammates, says loudly over the music, “we should totally steal a few of these golf carts and head down to the beach later and watch the sunrise.”
“Or we could just go back to our rooms,” Chelsea suggests, leaning against Bo’s chest. “I’m too old to stay up all night.”
“Lucky, we’re in our mid-twenties,” Bo says, laughing.
“Still, we have to get back to Philly early tomorrow.” She leans up and kisses him.
Bo Callaway was our quarterback at Walker after Liam transferred to Michigan for his senior year. He and Chelsea met in college and married last year.
I look over at Eva and see her smiling, watching, and listening to everyone. Then I work my way around the table, getting closer to her.
“Well, well, well,” I say, leaning an elbow on the table, “if it isn’t the pride of Walker University’s sports broadcasting department.”