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Chapter One

Beau

Tie game. Five seconds left, and we just scored a try. The two point conversion would put us over the top for the win against the Vegas Scrum Renegades.

They played a great game but it appears like the Ironclad Marauders’ will go home with the win.

As long as our fly-half makes the kick.

Who says rugby isn’t exciting?

Swiping the towel across my face, I wet my mouth with a last drink before handing it and the water bottle back to the Marauders’ water carrier. The sun is high and the dry heat is working to rip every ounce of fluid from my body.

“BD is coming out with us tonight when I get these points,” Ralph ‘Karate Kid’ Marone taunts, taking a swig of water—his mom and dad are huge ’80s movie and series fans. I side-eye him and stiffly shake my head. My team knows I’m not a big party guy, especially after a game. “Come on, Beau Duke! We’re in Vegas. You have to come out with us for a tiny bit. Then you can go back to your boring, old existence.”

“Get it through the uprights, and we’ll see,” I grumble. The rest of the ‘younger’ guys snicker at what is a regular occurrence for most of our away games. Ralph is continually working to get me to ‘whoop it up’—party—with the team. I love playing with my teammates, but most of them are young. I remember being there…eight years ago.

It was fun while it lasted, but it's just not my thing anymore. Me? I’m ready for the hot tub that has my name written all over it.

We jog back onto the pitch to the sound of fans cheering and get into position at the 22-meter line for the conversion that could win the Marauders the game.

Lining up into position, Karate Kid gets ready. He points to me, a cocky grin on his face. Running a hand through my wet hair, my lips quirk slightly. A rumble moves through my body and I shake my head. The arrogance of this kid never fails to amaze me.

Even though I didn’t say yes, Ralph has no intention of letting me stay in tonight because he won’t miss.

He never does.

Nursing a Dr. Pepper, I watch the guys shamelessly tease each other. My lips twitch. The murmur of the people at the bar is mixed with bells, clinking coins, and the occasional cheer from someone’s successful wager.

Drinks flow freely, and the boys get more boisterous, which makes me grin. They’re a good group; they just enjoy celebrating after a win.

A small glass is shoved in front of my face. I push a hand out and shake my head.

“Just one?” Jackson ‘Worm’ Martin, the Marauders' scrum half, pleads. I peek at the drink he’s holding and glance back up at Jackson. This won’t be their last attempt tonight, but I’ll have the same answer.

“Sorry, boys.” I shrug, lips quirking. Raising my glass toward them, I continue. “Consider me the designated driver.”

“We can get an Uber,” someone shouts.

My lips curl up, and I laugh softly. Looking up, I find fourteen sets of eyes directed my way and watch the hopeful expressions in their eyes fade. Some of them pretend to act like they’re wounded. I roll my eyes and take another sip of Dr. Pepper.

“Worth a shot.” Jackson winks at me and shrugs.

Bouncing back as if nothing happened, Karate Kid raises his glass to the sky and shouts. “To a hard-fought win against a tough opponent. May the rest of our season be this victorious!”

I raise my glass to support that toast.

“Beau!” A feminine voice calls out. Glancing over my left shoulder, I see a woman in a wedding dress waving what seems to be a bouquet, walking in my direction.

Rubbing my eyes, I freeze. “Kit?” I barely breathe out. My skin tingles as a thrill surges through me.

“Did you forget to tell us you’re getting married tonight, big guy?” Oliver Benjamin, the Marauders’ hooker, slaps me on the back laughing. The other guys start hooting and hollering just as Christy ‘Kit’ Garrett calls my name again.

Her auburn hair is up, well, partially; the rest of it gives the appearance that she’s been in a scuffle and lost. Her hazel brown eyes are sparkling, and she seems slightly off balance as she makes her way toward me.

My breath catches, and my heart stops before beating like a jackhammer.

An elated grin spreads across her face, but as she gets closer, I can see her mascara is smudged. Her hands are raised up, and I’m not sure if she’s going to hug me or slap me. Considering the last time I saw her, it could be either.

My body tenses, but then she throws her arms around my neck and plants her mouth on mine—the mouth I spent all senior year dreaming about. I stiffen for a moment before wrapping my arms around her and kissing her back. Lifting her up, I pull her body flush against me. Every inch of me vibrates.

It’s been years since I’ve seen her. The last time was a warm August night the summer after graduation. And as much as kissing her was what I wanted to do back then, I didn’t dare.

“Beau,” she says, breathless. The dazzling smile she beams my way leaves me heated. Like a burning candle, melted wax dripping down its side. “Beau Matthews. Imagine finding you here today of all days.”

“Looks like BD is getting married!” Noah Jones, one of the Marauders second row, teases, and the others snicker. I ignore them all. My sole focus is intently on the woman I’m still holding in my arms. The sweet scent of honeysuckle overwhelms my senses and brings back the past.

“I wanted to do that that night,” she whispers, running a finger down my lips. A crooked smile slides across my face before she taps me on the cheek…hard. “If only you weren’t…”

My chest clenches. I remember that moment well.

“Are you okay?” I ask, brows furrowing. “Don’t get me wrong, that was the best greeting of my life. But even you have to admit it’s a bit out of character, considering our history.”

I watch the light in her eyes dim and her arms loosen from around my neck. As I gently lower her to the ground, she smacks me in the chest with her bouquet and lets out a weary chuckle before cackling.

Quirking a brow, I wait for her to respond. She’s acting the opposite of the serious Christy Garrett I remember, especially when interacting with me. The only reason I could see her being this ‘friendly’ is that she’s been imbibing.

I’m sure this isn’t typical for her—okay, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, and I’m making a big assumption—the question is why?

“Completely fine.” She waves her hand in the air. Taking a step away from me, she sways, and I reach out with a hand to steady her. “I’m celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” My forehead pulls together.

“Celebrate with us!” Karate Kid chirps, waving his hand toward the bar and earning a scowl from me. He grins and lifts his hands, shrugging.

“Great idea!” Kit shouts, throwing an arm in his direction and shaking my hand off. I watch as she unsteadily marches her way toward the bar. The guys part like the Red Sea and open a space so she can sit on one of the stools.

Before the group can close up around her, I push my way through and place my body firmly behind her, surprising everyone. From the whispers I hear behind me; the ribbing I’m going to get about Kit will be merciless. But right now, I have an old ‘friend’ who seems to be in trouble.

An old nemesis is a better description. The truth is I only tried to make her life miserable because she was the girl I wanted. Teenage boys are ridiculous, I know. Hormones. What can I say?

“Let’s celebrate my fiancé, Scott Palmer, leaving me at the altar!” She says sardonically. My jaw clenches at the thought of her marrying that tool. Scott Palmer was two years older than us and a complete slimeball. Why would Kit want to marry him?

“You dodged a bullet,” I mutter.

“To dodging a bullet,” Jackson shouts. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he nudges me and hands me a shot. “We should all drink to that.”

Cheers from my teammates and Kit erupt. Rolling my eyes, I take the shot and chug it. The burning of the liquid moving through my body drowns out the burning sensation in my chest.

I open my eyes and immediately snap them shut as sunlight sends exploding pain through my skull. I take a deep breath and a heaviness weighs down my chest and thighs. Keeping my eyes closed, I slide a hand down and come upon an arm resting there. Squinting, I glance over and find red wavy locks spread out around my head.

Slamming my eyes shut, I groan.

What the heck happened last night, and which one of my teammates am I going to have to murder?

Opening my eyes again, I turn my head to find Kit still in her wedding gown and breathe a sigh of relief. Slowly sliding out from under her arm and leg, I scooch off the side of the bed and gently roll to the floor. I grip my head with my hands, leaning back against the bed as a hammer bangs against my skull.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I take slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm my accelerated heart rate. Behind me, I hear Kit grumbling in her sleep and a rustling noise as she switches positions. My lip curls up at the sweet tone of her voice—only to gasp as an image of us standing at an altar pops into my mind.

Slapping my hand over my mouth, I hold my breath and listen for any sound alerting me to her waking up. When her even breathing reaches my ears, I blow out a quiet breath.

I run my hand down my face but pause when I feel something cold. I peel my hand away from my face and catch sight of a gold band. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Spreading my fingers, I slowly open my eyes again and peek down at my left hand.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers, a jolt runs through me, replacing the pain in my head.

Carefully getting up, I turn, and face Kit stretched out on the bed, a small smile resting on her face.

Even after all this time, she really is captivating, even more so when she’s not taunting me with some audacious comeback that has her eyes sparkling and my stomach tightening. Unable to stop myself from giving in to the itch telling me I have to touch her, I walk over to her side of the bed and gently push her hair back from her face.

My body tenses right before my heart sinks to my stomach.

Shaking my hand through my hair, I frantically search around for my phone and a room key. I need to get out of here and think about how I’m going to handle my current situation.

Walking quickly and quietly toward the door, I rub my chest to work away the tightness gathering when I look down.

Probably a good idea to put a shirt on first.