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By the timeI make it down to the beach, it's close to ten in the evening. The barbecue is almost out, but I couldn’t not show my face. I need the distraction and a chance to see some friendly faces.

I immediately recognize Luke, who’s cooking what remains of the food, and I make my way over to him, hoping to grab something to eat since the last thing I ate was on the plane. “Any burgers left?”

“Not much but that and a couple of wings,” he replies. “Grab a plate, and I’ll load you up.”

He begins piling my plate as I turn to look at the group of friends twenty feet from us, sitting around the bonfire. Hudson, a former high school and later college friend waves in mydirection, and I lift a hand to wave back. I recognize a blonde girl sitting next to him; I think her name is Hayley. She was a couple of years younger than us, but I saw from her social media that she now runs a successful florist in the area. There are a few more people all laughing and joking, but I don’t recognize them.

“How often do you have these barbecues?” I say, turning back to Luke.

He lifts a shoulder. “Whenever we can but not all that often. Hudson’s wife sometimes comes along, but the numbers have dropped off since most now have children.”

I remember they used to be almost every weekend when we were at school. When I’ve made it home in between seasons, I’ve never stayed long enough to meet up with everyone, maybe a night or two at most, and so I’d spend my limited hours catching up with Mom and Dad. Jon came back with me a couple of times, and we grabbed a beer with Luke.

“It’s cool you kept it going. I’ll have to bring some of the hockey guys over one day. We don’t exactly get beach barbecues in Seattle.”

“Yeah, why not. Tell Jon congrats, by the way. I saw on social media he got engaged to his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks for the food.” I thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll head over and join the others.”

“Zach?!”

At the sound of a soft but sweet voice, I turn back around to face Luke and see a small figure racing up behind him.

As she approaches, the light from the barbecue captures a mass of auburn hair, followed by dainty features and freckles—so many freckles. Her smile reaches her ears as it accentuates the light blush on her cheeks.

Luna.

Other than on socials, I haven’t seen her for at least three years, the last time being when I came home for the holidaysand we went out for New Year. She’s always been incredibly pretty, but somehow, she’s grown prettier with time. She’s her own brand of unique—from her unpredictability to her smile and pixie-like features. She’s feisty too, an endearing kind of unfiltered. She says what she means, and I wonder if, over the years, she’s held onto her genuine qualities. Living and working in a world surrounded by pro athletes and money, I’ve found this to be a rarity.

“Luna,” I say with a smile. I set my plate down on the camp table next to the grill and hold out my hand for her to take. But she completely ignores my gesture and launches herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

I stand there, rooted to the spot. Her familiar vanilla scent washes over me as memories of the hours we spent on the beach as teenagers come crashing back.

She rests her head over my shoulder and tilts her face toward my ear. “There’s no way I’m shaking your hand. You might be super rich and famous, but you’re still Zach to me.”

My hands rest low on her back and through her T-shirt and cut-off denim shorts, I feel her body heat radiate through mine.

All too aware of our position and the company we’re in, I take a tentative glance at Luke. His eyes are ablaze as he pins them on us and takes a swig of his beer. The light is dim, but I don’t miss the way they flash with an unmistakable emotion, and it’s definitely unappreciative.

Luna split up with Luke just before we headed to college. I remember he took it hard; they were dating for two years, and from what I’m seeing right now, he’s never gotten over her. I know he’s dated since, but he’s never married. Neither has Luna.

I set her back down, and it's then that I remember just how much I tower over her; she must be only five-four at best, and her slight frame accentuates her petite exterior.

Her coffee-colored eyes scan over my body, taking me in. “I see you added to your tattoo collection.”

I pull at the sleeve of my T-shirt. Why the fuck am I feeling shy? “Yeah, full arms now.”

“And hands.” She takes my left hand in her small grasp, and I feel the contrast of her smooth, soft palms against my calloused skin. The contact sends a shot of something through my body, catching me entirely off guard.

Turning my arm around, she studies the ink, stopping when my forearm comes into view. “Nice, seems fitting you added a scorpion.”

“Yeah, got it last year.”

A throat clears from behind us, and I glance over Luna’s shoulder to see Luke pointing to my plate. “Food will be cold in a minute, buddy.”

Shit, yeah.

CHAPTER FOUR