(Un)Rivaled (Saint Stephen’s Lake #4)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
“Why the hell is there a ring on my finger?”
Under normal circumstances, the sound of a strange man’s voice in my room would cause me to bolt up, grab my taser from my purse, and try to remember everything I learned in kickboxing.
Today, however, none of those were an option.
From the moment I opened my eyes, my brain felt like someone was sawing it in half. It was painful even to breathe, much less move more than an inch. And the worst part? I had no one to blame but myself.
“Oh my God,” I groaned, rubbing at my temples with my forefingers. How much did I have to drink last night? Considering I usually capped myself at two glasses of wine, I didn’t have the best tolerance, but this hangover was worse than anything I’d ever had in college. Forgetting about the man lying next to me, I crawled back under the comforter, desperate to keep any source of light as far away from me as possible. Maybe if I shut my eyes extra tight and kept them closed, this would all reveal itself as a bad dream.
There were only two reasons why someone would be in my room right now. Either I was going to become a dateline special about a serial killer preying on hung-over women, or I’d had a one-night stand. The former was almost more likely. In my twenty-five years on Earth, I’d never had a one-night stand. No shame to those who did, but I wasn’t wired that way. Having anonymous sex meant being impulsive and dropping my guard, two things I was incapable of doing.
“Holy shit,” the same deep tone groaned. It was gravelly and pained—just like how I’m sure mine would sound if I attempted to speak. I squeezed my eyes closed even harder, but that just amplified the pulsing in my skull. Was it too late to beg him to kill me? Because that might be preferable to dealing with this pain. But I kept my mouth shut as I felt the bed shift, and I sunk more into the middle of the mattress. Oh God. Was this what death felt like? It had to be. There was no way I could go on living if the tension in my skull didn’t let up soon.
When I heard the shower turn on, I cracked one eyelid open, practically hissing at the stream of light breaking through the curtains. The blue curtains . Forcing my head to rise, I realized not only was I not in my hotel room, I was pretty sure I wasn’t even in the same hotel .
Gone were the deep reds and Roman-themed accents from my hotel. Instead, everything here was bathed in a dark blue, like we had been plunged into the depths of the ocean. Mirrored silver furniture lined the walls, and in the middle sat the ornate bed. As I looked up, I saw my reflection in a large mirror plastered on the ceiling above the bed. Well, I certainly looked as shitty as I felt.
Maybe another day, I would have taken the time to try to figure out how I ended up in this position, but today, I had one goal: get the hell out of there before my new buddy left the bathroom.
Walk of shame, here we go.
I shifted in bed. Okay, walking might be out of the question. Was there such a thing as a crawl of shame?
After a deep exhale, I forced my legs to work and stumbled to grab my discarded dress. Luckily, I still had my underwear on, so maybe last night didn’t go as far as I thought. Usually, there was some sort of physical indication I’d slept with someone. I mean, at least when it was enjoyable. Today, it was hard to tell. My entire body felt like a giant bruise, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into the bed and stay there forever.
How the hell had this even happened? This weekend was supposed to be about work . I was only in Las Vegas to attend a national legal conference. My new firm had paid for the trip, citing associates’ need to make connections within the legal community. While the practice was prominent in New York, times were shifting. The old rules no longer applied, and many old shops were struggling to adjust to the modern, digital era. Apparently, our firm's revitalization strategy included shipping some of its junior associates across the country to attend all the major legal conferences as walking advertisement. The governing committee chose ten of the associates to attend the one this week, including me, and selfishly, I knew this was my opportunity to prove myself. My boss was a hard-ass, but I respected him. He got me excited to practice law and use what I’d learned to help others.
While the others had chatted on the plane ride about what clubs they’d hit up after the conference, I balked at their immature antics. I might have been in Las Vegas, but it was just the backdrop for work. The city wouldn’t tempt me.
Oh, poor past Devyn. What a na?ve little fool you’d been.
I groaned and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. Why did I decide to go out? The past twelve hours were a blur. All my memories ran together, leaving me with a confusing highlight reel of the night’s events. The last thing I remembered was walking out of the conference after it wrapped up, counting down the minutes until I could collapse into bed and binge-read while my colleagues got shit-faced.
In my attempt to untangle the previous night, I must have missed the sound of the shower turning off. Because as I muttered to myself, haplessly trying to sort out my memories, someone cleared their throat behind me.
“Running out on me, Ace?”
My entire body stilled. I was pretty sure my heart missed a beat, too focused on the man standing behind me to function properly. With that one sentence, some of my memories snapped into place, recalling my name being called out from across the casino and finding someone staring at me like I was a ghost.
Grayson Anders.
When I saw him across the casino last night, I immediately rushed over and pulled him into a tight hug. It had been years since we’d seen each other in person, but time didn’t dull how much he meant to me. Gray was my first real friend, the one who stuck by me through my awkward and tense teenage years, my first love and first subsequent heartbreak.
It had been almost three years since we were in the same room together. After we moved away to college, our friendship was never the same. It faded gradually until it was nothing more than missed calls and texts. I would have loved to pinpoint the minute everything changed, but in truth, it was a million different moments. Time and hidden feelings had messed with our bond, but no one would have known looking at us last night.
And just like when we were kids, it had been impossible to say no to Gray, especially when he asked me to stay for a drink. One drink turned into ten, and before I knew it, his entire baseball team was cheering us on, clinking glasses until we kissed.
“Gray…” I whispered as I turned around. He stood only a couple of feet away from me, his lower half wrapped in a white terrycloth towel. His body was cut— defined from years of playing professional baseball. My eyes traced the tattoos drawn around his wrist and started to climb both of his arms. Maybe if my eyes were in better shape, I could’ve made out the designs, but right now, all they looked like were black swirls. His long, dark blond hair was loose around his shoulders, already starting to form waves. Even after all this time, he was still the most attractive man in the world.
The blood drained from my face as I looked from him back to the bed. Had I spent the night with Gray? God, this was even worse than I thought. After years of wanting Gray, knowing he’d never see me as more than a friend, I’d finally gotten the chance to be with him, and I was too drunk to remember a moment of it.
“What happened last night?” I croaked out, running my hand over my clothes and desperately trying to keep from making eye contact with Gray.
“No fucking clue,” he grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face .
As he did, the sight of something on his ring finger made me sick. A thick black band stuck out against his lightly tanned skin.
I raced into the bathroom, purging everything I’d eaten last night. By the time I finished, Gray sat at my side, handing me a damp washcloth. Scooting back until I hit the wall, I covered my face with my hands. “Gray, please tell me nothing happened between us. I couldn’t live with myself if you cheated on your wife?—”
“I’m not married,” he huffed from my side. His face fell as he looked down at the ring. “Don’t think I am, at least. Woke up with this on my finger.”
I pulled up slightly, resting my head on the toilet seat. Disgusting, maybe, but in this moment, nothing could have gotten me to lift it any further. “You don’t remember putting it on?”
“No. Memory’s pretty fucked,” he grumbled as he lifted up my left hand. A spark ignited where we touched, and it took everything in me to keep my body calm. It had been so long since I’d been this close to Gray, unable to stay in his orbit and risk my heart breaking again. But even though we were practically strangers now, the same sensation rocked through me: longing, lust, and complete comfort, wrapping around me whenever he was near.
But all of that faded away when he reached for my ring finger, and I felt something there, something I hadn’t noticed in my haste to get out of the room. I glanced down at the delicate, braided silver band on my finger. Gray followed my line of sight and twisted the ring with his thumb. Then, he held up his ringed hand, putting it next to mine. The two bands were polar opposites, much like we’d always been, and yet…they worked together.
Another round of nausea pulled the thought from my head, and Gray backed away to give me some space. He returned a couple minutes later with cans of ginger ale, some saltine crackers, and his phone.
“C’mon. You should eat something,” he said, helping me to sit against the wall. I pushed away the crackers, unwilling to even think about putting anything in my stomach, but when he held out the ginger ale, I snatched it greedily. “Slow sips,” he warned. As I did as I was told, Gray leaned back, running his hand over his gruff beard. “What do you remember about last night?”
“Not much,” I answered, dropping my head down to my knees. “The last thing was leaving the bar and going somewhere with your teammates. They were cheering about something?”
“They were cheering about us,” Gray said, his tone low. He pulled out his phone, showing me a video playing on the screen. It looked a lot like the two of us standing on an altar, exchanging promises to each other. Gray watched my face the entire time, waiting for me to process what I’d seen.
I shoved the phone back to him. “I don’t understand.”
“Ace…” Gray’s voice was soft, softer than I’d ever heard it. That should have been my first sign of trouble. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. “I think we got married last night.”