“What do you think of this one?” My roommate Everly spins around to look at herself in the mirror. Her blonde curls bounce around her shoulders like a shampoo commercial.
“Hurry up,” her twin sister, Gracie, yells from the hall of the penthouse suite we’ve booked for the weekend.
Everly rolls her eyes and plumps her perfect boobs, and not for the first time, I wish I had my friend’s confidence . . . and figure. Give me a pair of figure skates and a perfectly smooth rink and I’ve got confidence in spades. In all the other facets of my life, fake it till you make it is a little more my speed. So I go for the easy out and toss a pillow at Everly.
“Who are you worried about impressing? This is a girls’ weekend. Remember?” With a shake of my head, I lean back on the bed, and maybe I peek down at my own less than C-cup chest. Who am I kidding? I’m barely a B most days. “Remind me again why I’m sharing a room with you?”
She adds a delicate gold chain around her neck and gives me one of her cheerleadery smiles. “Because you love me, and I’m going to play wingman for you this weekend. Now get up and get dressed because there are at least two gorgeous men meeting us at the pool that are of legal age and not related to either of us.” With another quick glance in the mirror, my Instagram-perfect bestie slides her feet into heeled wedges and tosses a sexy pink sarong my way. “Now rip off that stupid old t-shirt and put this over your bikini. Easton’s never going to realize you’re an adult with actual boobs and an ass if you dress the same way you did when you were fourteen.”
“Evie,” I gasp and look around, checking to see if anyone else heard what she said. “I told you that in confidence.”
“You told me that in a drunken fucking cryfest, and Kenzie and Brynlee are probably studying in the other room,” she snaps back at me, referring to our other two roommates—Kenzie, Easton’s little sister, and Brynlee. Technically, I guess Bryn is Kenzie’s cousin. And considering Kenzie’s legal guardian happens to be my big brother, that may actually make me her aunt. I’m the youngest in a huge, obnoxious family. Most days, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Even if my closest sibling in age is fifteen years older than me.
But while I’ve always looked at Kenzie as part of the family, I’ve never looked at her brother that way.
Even as a kid, Easton was always handsome. What I had back then was an innocent crush on my best friend’s brother. But the feelings that have developed over the years since that night are anything but innocent. They’re also not something I’ll ever admit. At least not sober, apparently.
“Besides, Easton won’t be the only man out there today, and you need to pop that cherry at some point. Vegas is bound to have plenty of men willing to do the work for you,” she winks dramatically and smiles again.
I wrap a hand around Everly’s big mouth, then yank it away just as fast when she licks it. “Gross. You know you have a problem with volume control . . .” I toss my tee onto the hotel bed and tie the sarong around my waist, then fix my boobs. “And who exactly are the two men you’re expecting?”
Gracie walks in, the complete opposite of her identical twin sister. Where Everly is a wild bombshell, Grace has a quiet, understated beauty about her. She’s the calm to Everly’s storm and is always the most sensible one of us. “Oh come on, Lindy. Evie’s always wanted Easton’s friend, Pace. Do you have any idea how excited she was when she heard he was going to be here this weekend?”
I shrug and refuse to admit I got butterflies when I thought about seeing Easton this afternoon. He and I talk at least once a week and have for years. But we rarely get to see each other. Between my training and his long-ass season, not to mention the Olympics and the two of us living on opposite sides of the country, I hardly ever see him in person.
“Time to let loose, Lindy,” Everly giggles and pushes me forward. “Why else did I push for us to come to Vegas for your birthday?”
I guess I could use one of those crazy weekends. Not that it’s going to be one of those weekends. “I figured it was for the private jet that comes with me.”
Everly shoves me. “Not gonna lie. It’s awfully convenient to have an heiress for a best friend. But I was just excited your little break from skating meant we could finally plan something for your birthday. Thirty-six hours is better than nothing, and you know me . . . Go big or go home.” She smiles like the Cheshire freaking cat. “I plan on going home knowing exactly how big Pace is.”
I look between my two friends and laugh. Their father has been the franchise quarterback for the professional football team my family owns for over twenty years. Their grandfather is the head coach, and his youngest son, Callen, who happens to be the same age as the twins, was just drafted. None of us come from average families. Unfortunately, I’m the only one who also comes with an around-the-clock bodyguard. “Is Charles waiting outside?”
Brynlee pops her head into the room. “Of course he is. Now let’s go. I want to get a cabana at the pool while we still can. That stupid Kroydon Kronicles column in the Philly Press has already reported we’re in Vegas. Let’s not give them anything else to report on.”
“I already booked it,” I tell her as I grab my bag and toss my Kindle inside. “We’ve got two for the day. Plenty of room for low-key.” I look over at Everly. “At least for those of us that want it.”
We walk into the living room of the suite and find Kenzie studying on the couch. Everly snags the big book out of her hands. “You promised us one weekend, girl genius.”
“Guys . . . classes are kicking my ass.” Kenzie looks up, clearly frustrated. “Exams are next week.”
Everly pulls her up to her feet, then hands Kenzie her oversized bag before eventually relenting and letting her add the textbook to the bag. “You know, they have these things called e-books now, Kenz. You should try it.”
Kenzie adds her highlighter, then checks to make sure she’s got everything else she needs. “Listen . . . you all graduated and started your lives. I’ve got three years left of med school before I even start a residency.” She spins on Everly with a finger pointing her way. “And don’t say it. I know I chose this. I’ve got a test on Monday, and it’s only my first one of the week. I have to do well. So I don’t want to hear a single word about it when I’m studying at the pool and you’re all getting drunk.” She looks around at all of us this time, then grabs her vibrating phone, and her face drops. “Ugh . . . Looks like Easton is bailing on the pool, but he said he’ll meet us at the club tonight.”
“Did he say why?” Everly asks.
Kenzie shakes her head.
Brynlee takes Kenzie’s phone and drops it in her bag. “Oh well, his loss. Callen and Maddox are already down there. Let’s go.”
“I swear if Callen goes home and tells Dad anything about this weekend, I’m going to string up his balls by the laces of his cleats,” Everly grumbles.
“Dramatic much?” Brynlee plants her hands on her hips and glares because our girls will always defend Callen.
Forget Maddox. Bryn would throw him to the wolves.
But Callen . . . He’s a whole other story.
“Come on,” Gracie groans before she pops a big straw hat on her head and grabs the key card from the table. “Can we go now? I’m hungry.”
“Oh, sweetie, we’re drinking breakfast. Your options are mimosas or bloody marys. But hey, olives are a veggie, now let’s go.” Everly opens the door with a flourish and pats my bodyguard, Charles, on the chest. “You’re going to keep your distance today, right, Chuck?”
Charles’s eyes find mine, and I can already tell it’s going to be a long weekend. “You know the rules, Miss Sinclair.”
Everly leans into my side and whispers, “You know we’re going to have to ditch him at some point, right?”
A small smile tugs at my twitching lips.
Maybe it will be one of those weekends after all.
Easton
“Why did we even bother taking the meeting if you knew you were going to decline the trade offer? Max Kingston has been trying to get your ass to play for the Revolution for years.” Pace has been a broken record about this for the past two hours. “You ever planning on accepting the trade? On going home? Could you even imagine the way the fans would lose their shit over the prodigal son returning?”
“I am home, asshole. Vegas has been my home for a decade. Kroydon Hills . . . Well, Kroydon Hills is the place I visit. That’s it.” I look around to make sure no one’s paying attention and shove my best friend forward. “Seriously? Prodigal son? Who the fuck says that kind of shit?”
“There’s a reason I’m your agent, E-man. I can spin shit into gold.” He’s not lying either. Pace was a good college hockey player, but he knew it wasn’t going any further, so he went into the family business. Now he’s one of the most sought-after sports agents in the country. He’s second only to his older brother, which has always pissed him off. “Now relax. It’s time to see your girl.”
I stop dead in my tracks, and Pace almost runs into me. “Stop with the my girl shit.”
“Dude. What crawled up your ass tonight? I’ve been calling that girl your girl for a fucking decade. She’s the goddamn Kingston princess, for fuck’s sake, and she looks like—”
I cut him off with an icy glare. “Watch it.”
He throws his hands up in front of himself. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself to get through the night, man. You can keep lying to yourself if you want to, but I’m your best friend. You can’t lie to me.”
“There’s nothing there. End of story. Now let’s get this shit over with.” I shake my head and move around some rowdy asshole, not giving a shit that he’s sloshing beer all over himself while a prostitute grinds her ass against his dick. Dumb fuck probably doesn’t realize she’s pay-to-play. Maybe he just doesn’t care. I remember those days. I spent a fuck-ton of nights drinking to forget, and there’s no better place to do that than the city of sin.
Spent half those nights on the phone with her too.
Somewhere along the way, she became my girl.
Not that I said it.
Not that she knew it.
But she fucking felt like it.
“She’s not my fucking girl,” I mumble again as a blonde bombshell catches my eye on the other side of the purple rope designating the VIP area. She’s dancing like she knows she’s drawing every single man and woman’s attention her way, but that’s not why I notice her. No. It’s the woman she’s dancing with. The tiny wisp of a woman, barely five foot two with long dirty-blonde curls and eyes the color of a stormy Bermuda ocean. The one who has her hands raised in the air and her perfect ass up against Everly, shaking her hips in a way that makes my cock hard. The one who’s all woman now.
“Yeah, buddy.” Pace smacks my chest. “Keep telling yourself she’s not your girl.” Pace smiles devilishly at a passing VIP waitress and orders two Macallen 18s. “Now don’t mind me while I go make myself a sandwich.”
“What the fuck—” He moves before I finish my question, and I watch for a moment as the fucker does exactly what he said he’d do and slides between Everly Sinclair and Lindy. My fucking Lindy.
The waitress comes back and hands me two glasses, then steps closer and bats her long, fake lashes. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Hayes?”
Of course, she recognizes me.
Being a professional hockey player used to have it’s perks.
Not anymore.
Now, it’s just exhausting.
Now, I just want to play good hockey and be left the fuck alone.
“Umm, you can get your skanky ass off my brother.” Kenzie moves in front of me, blocking the waitress, then turns and throws her arms around my neck. “Easton,” she squeals. “I missed you so much.”
I wrap an arm around my little sister and squeeze. “Hey, Kenz. Missed you too.”
She pulls back and smacks my chest. “Why did you bail earlier? I thought I was getting a whole day with you. I wouldn’t have flown all the way out here just for tonight.”
“Sorry. Meeting with team management.” I don’t bother adding anything about the trade offer. Max Kingston, the GM and part owner of the Philadelphia Revolution, who also happens to be Lindy’s oldest brother, might tell her at some point, but I don’t want to see the disappointment on her face if she hears it from me.
The Kingstons like to take care of their own, and luckily, they claimed Kenzie and me when our mom died more than a decade ago and our cousin, Juliette, took us in as our legal guardian. She married Becket Kingston a month later, and the family has claimed us ever since.
Most of them, at least.
I remind myself, again, that Lindy’s off-limits.
She always has been. She always will be.
I look over again at Lindy and see red.
She’s laughing at something Pace is whispering in her ear.
Fucker.
She might feel like mine, but that girl deserves more than me.
