Page 1 of Breakaway (Nashville Knights Hockey #3)

Chapter One

CHLOE

I don’t think I can do this. Oh God, why did I think I could do this? I mean, when Duncan got down on one knee, the only thing I could have said was yes. It would’ve been rude to say no.

Smoothing a hand down the front of my white dress—my too white dress—it hits me that I can’t do this. It’s not my style. The mermaid skirt is too tight around my legs. There’s too much lace on the bodice. The rhinestones? The saleswoman and my mother talked me into them.

And why is it so damn itchy?

They said how good the rhinestones would look as I walked down the aisle toward Duncan.

Duncan.

My fiancé.

The man I’m going to marry.

The thought of that has bile rising in my throat.

I can’t. God, I really can’t do this.

Maybe I could talk to Duncan and get a read on him before I walk down the aisle. That’s a perfectly normal thing to do, right ?

He wanted to keep the wedding traditional. Not spend the night before together. Not see one another. No first look before the ceremony.

I went along with all of it.

Until now.

Hiking up my dress and kicking off my heels, I dash out of my room. Thank God I kicked everyone out earlier to take a few minutes to myself.

Walking down the beige halls, I follow the signs to the Fletcher Wedding Party. I hear Duncan’s voice as I pad my way down the hall. Other than his voice, it’s quiet.

“Baby, it’s going to be okay.”

Baby? What the hell? Who is he talking to? It stops me in my tracks.

“Look, I told you all of this last night.”

Is this why he didn’t want to spend the night together?

I slink farther along the hall, finding the door that’s cracked open.

“You have to be patient. I promise. Once things settle down after the honeymoon, we can see each other.”

After the honeymoon?

“That’s right. I love you.”

I love you?

Okay, what the fuck is going on?

I’m ready to burst in there and yell at the man I’m supposed to be marrying in less than thirty minutes, but his next comment stops me.

“Do you really think I’d marry someone so boring? I mean, c’mon. Chloe is not the right person for me.”

I can’t hear whoever is on the other line, but me? Boring? I thought Duncan and I had fun together. I mean, sure, I like my Saturday mornings at the farmers’ market, and wine nights with my girls, but does that make me boring ?

“That’s right, baby. Only you. I love you. Once I get back into the league, I’ll be free and clear. Having a Goody Two-shoes like Chloe? It’ll help improve my image. Show them that I’m a changed man so a team will finally pick me up again.”

A changed man? Free and clear? From me ?

Anger boils in my veins. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?

The man on the other side of this door is telling another woman that he loves her . The same man who told me he loved me yesterday before I left for the hotel and packed my bag for the honeymoon.

Not wanting to give away my position, I tiptoe back the way I came. My vision blurs as tears of rage gather in my eyes.

I’m boring? If I’m so boring, why would Duncan propose to me? We’d only been back together for a few months before he proposed, and I’ve spent the better part of the last eight or so months planning the wedding. Fast? Maybe, but people fall in love and get married way faster than that.

Was it too fast? Was it only so he could get picked up by a team again? Is that why there’s another woman?

I cannot believe I let myself get suckered in by this man.

Duncan Fletcher. The man I thought I was in love with is actually the biggest douche nozzle on the planet.

Bursting back into my room, I slam the door shut behind me and find my bag. I pull out my phone and start typing away a message to the Fletcher that will never let me down.

Chloe

I need you

His response is immediate.

Dax

Is everything okay?

No

Bring your car keys

Fuck. What happened?

Just get here now

“Chloe? Honey? We need to get going if the ceremony is going to start on time,” Mom’s voice rings through the door.

“I need a few more minutes,” I call back.

“Chloe, we can’t keep everyone waiting.”

“They’re not going to start without me!” I snap.

There’s muttering on the other side of the door. Honestly, I don’t care at this point. Whatever I was feeling before is nothing compared to now as I pace in front of the mirror. I catch sight of my dress and it turns the anger into fury.

How could I let myself get this far?

Grabbing the hem of the dress, I rip it. Hard. God, I hate this frock, and the sound of shredding fabric fills my ears. I keep ripping until every scrap of fabric is off my body. I breathe a sigh of relief as the material falls away.

Piles of organza silk and satin lie in ruined piles on the floor as I stand in my corset.

“You think I’m boring now, Duncan?” I kick the material out of the way, running to the closet to grab my jacket and sweatpants.

If I’m going to get out of here, I need to at least be wearing something.

“Chloe? Are you okay?”

A knock followed by Dax’s voice calms me. Even for a moment.

Rushing to the door, I pull it open and usher him inside. “Get in here.”

His hand is over his eyes. “Am I allowed to see you?”

“Yes. Besides, it doesn’t matter.”

I yank his hand down, and when he looks at me, I can see the confusion wash over his face.

He points at what I’m wearing. “Why aren’t you wearing your dress?”

I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “It’s over there. But that’s not why I need you.”

“Chloe, what is going on?” he asks. “Why do you need me? And why did I need my car keys?”

“Because we’re getting out of here.”

“Out of here? You’re getting married in like ten minutes.”

“Not anymore.” I brush past him and grab my purse. “Are you going to help me or what?”

“Obviously. But are you not going to tell me what’s going on?”

I shake my head. “Not right now. We need to get out of here before anyone comes looking for me.”

“You’re the bride,” Dax points out. “You realize people will come looking, right? I mean, your mom and bridesmaids are waiting for you.”

“Ugh.” I throw my head back in frustration. “Look, if you don’t want to help, I can call a rideshare.”

“No.” Dax pulls his keys out of his pocket. “Do you need anything from me?”

I look behind me at the side exit door. “Will you just tell my parents and then I’ll meet you at your car? Please, Dax?”

A pinched look washes over his face. “You really want me to tell your parents that the wedding is off?”

“Yes. If I try to do it, my mom will talk me back into it and I do not want that.”

“Fine.” Dax waves me toward the door. “Go. I’ll take care of everyone else, okay?”

I press up onto my toes and peck his cheek. “Thank you.”

Getting to the side door, I grab my bag I had stuffed with essentials from the last few days and turn back as Dax takes a deep breath and leaves. At least I have him in my corner.

Because it’s a gorgeous day here, everyone is filling the park. It gives me the cover I need to dodge through people to get to the parking lot. Clicking the fob on Dax’s keys, I follow the beeping until I find his small, black SUV and hop into the front seat.

Flipping the visor down, I start to pull the bobby pins out of my blonde hair. It’s tucked, twisted, and sprayed to within an inch of its life.

Something else I didn’t like. A fancy French twist that my stylist said would complement my dress. I said yes because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Tears start to burn again. This time, hurt seeps through the anger. How did I let it get this far? Instead of standing under a pergola, confessing my love to Duncan, I’m sitting in his brother’s car waiting to leave my own wedding.

I blow out a breath, picking at my French manicure. There will be time to figure out what went wrong, but right now, I need copious amounts of alcohol to deal with what I heard.

How could I have gotten played like this?

Dax is running toward me, undoing his purple tie as he crosses the parking lot. His normally curly brown hair is gelled into place. Sunglasses hide his brown eyes as he opens the door and slides inside.

“How did it go?” I wring my hands in my lap as Dax starts the car.

“Well, your mom is likely going to kill me, but other than that, it went about as well as it could. Considering I know absolutely nothing…”

“God, Dax. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I throw my head back against the seat as we pull out of the parking lot.

“You know I would do anything for you, Chloe, but you have to tell me what is going on.”

I wince, turning my head to look at him. “We need shots for that.”

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“For now? Drive. Just drive.”