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ASHLYN
Fifteen years ago
“This is such a bad idea, Nina.” I hesitate and glance over at my teammate before she climbs out of the car.
The shoo-in for the Olympic gold medal in figure skating slams the door shut behind her, then rounds the car and opens my door. “Get out of the car, Ashlyn. We’re already here.” She turns around and looks over the fraternity house behind her. “WhatCoachdoesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“No, but it might hurt us,” I argue as I get out and tug my sweater down. “If he realizes we’re not in the house—”
Nina’s eyes flare, and she cuts me off, “Stop. We’re already here, and we’re going to have fun. We leave for Paris in two days, and then everything will change. Just have one night of fun with me. Please,” she begs, and I do what I always do. I give in.
“Fine.” I link my arm through hers. “One night. But we’ve got to be smart about it and back in the house before five. I refuse to get caught because of a stupid frat party.”
“First of all, we’re not a frat. We’re a football team. Frats are for douchebags,” a deep voice rumbles from the shadows before a guy steps out and Nina launches herself at him. She wraps her arms around his thick neck and her legs around his waist before kissing him, and my cheeks flame.
I stand there, waiting for her to stop and take a breath, feeling like a third wheel when another guy, this one bigger and broader, and oh my God, hotter than the one Nina’s mauling, clears his throat. The sound is deep and gravelly and sexy as hell. “You guys gonna come up for air, or you plan on giving the whole street a show, man?”
The big guy moves next to me and blatantly looks me over. “Hey. I’m Brandon.”
“Ashlyn,” I offer softly... though, awkwardly is probably more like it. This guy looks like Henry Cavill and The Rock had a baby. Shit. And I sound like a tongue-tied idiot.
“Well, Ashlyn, want to come inside and get a drink? These two don’t look like they’re coming up for air anytime soon.” His lips tip up to one side in a practiced smile, and I think my panties might have just melted away.
Then his words finally register.
“What?” I ask tall, dark, and muscley before marching over to my sister-from-another-mister and yank on her shoulder. “Who the hell is this, and when did you find time to meet someone? And where the hell did you meet him? And why didn’t you tell me?” I demand.
Nina and I have been like sisters ever since my mom basically sold me to Nina’s dad so he could train me for the Olympics ten years ago. We’ve shared a room. Shared our secrets and fears. Hell, we even shared a pair of skates two years ago at nationals when hers broke ten minutes before her free skate.
I know everything about her.
At least I thought I did.
She unlaces herself from the football guy and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Ash. This is Eric. Eric, this is Ashlyn.”
Eric gives me a nod. “Hey. I’ve heard all about theperfectAshlyn. Nice to finally meet you.”
I glare at Nina. What the hell has she been telling this guy?
She’s in so much trouble.
“Don’t be mad, Ash. If I told you, you wouldn’t have come,” Nina pleads, and she’s not wrong. “Come on. Let’s go inside.” She reaches for me, but Eric tugs her away.
“Come on, babe. I wanted to show you that thing. Dixon’s got your girl, don’t you, Dix?” Okay. That’s strike two for Eric, but I don’t get a chance to say anything else before he picks Nina up, throws her over his shoulder, smacks her ass, and walks away.
I look up at the dark sky and resist the urge to cry when the big guy next to me places his big palm at the small of my back, right above the waist of my low-slung jeans. “Come on. Let’s go around back and get you something to drink.”
I hesitate for a hot second as a shiver races down my spine from the feel of his warm skin against mine. “Thanks, but I don’t need a drink or a babysitter.”
“What if I told you you’d be doing me a favor?” And there goes that smile again.
Jesus, get it together, girl.
“I’d say you were lying,” I answer but let him guide me down the worn grass pathway alongside the old brick house, and toward the backyard, where the music is just a little louder than all the voices.
“Well, that’s the first thing you’re going to learn about me, Ashlyn. I never lie.”
A few groups of people call out his name and congratulate him as we walk by. “You seem like a pretty popular guy.”
