Chapter 1
Zach removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting as he groaned, the blinding sun doing nothing to help the brutal pounding in Zach’s skull courtesy of his massive hangover. The radiant, barely-there warmth from the sun on his front offset the chill at his back, but his ass remained pretty damn near frozen and numb on the metal bleachers. At least the temperature had finally warmed enough so that he could no longer see his breath. Just another typical mid-April morning in Denver.
Why the fuck had he agreed to this again? Oh, yeah. That’s right. He hadn’t.
Replacing his glasses, Zach resumed staring vacantly at the kids on the field as he grabbed the water bottle from where it sat on the hard metal bench beside him and guzzled the remaining half, still waiting for the prescription-strength dose of ibuprofen to kick in.
A sharp whistle echoed across the field, signaling the end of the game. Fucking finally. The Mustangs beat the Wolves seventeen to seven, but Zach really didn’t care. He wasn’t there for any of the kids.
Zach was only there because his best friend and most evil person on the whole fucking planet right now, Cael, thought the fresh air would do him some good, and he’s the coach of the regional junior league lacrosse team. Go Wolves.
Or maybe, better luck next time.
The ten-row set of metal bleachers emptied around him as parents, siblings, and friends made their way down. The kids did their obligatory and somewhat unenthusiastic, good-game lineup and low fives with the opposing team, then gathered their gear rather quickly. It wasn’t long before most everyone had fled to the parking lot, ready to get on with their Saturday plans.
Zach, however, had no plans. Not since two months ago when his fiancé decided she didn’t want to marry him anymore. He still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong to make her leave, or to make her think he didn’t love her.
“Whatever I did, Megan, I’m sorry. I love you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Then please, tell me, what did I do?”
“You fell in love. A long time ago, actually. Just not with me.”
Their conversation had replayed in his head every fucking day since, and still he had no fucking clue as to what she’d been talking about that day.
Zach sighed, watching Cael chat with a few of his players. He said goodbye to them and their parents as he continued packing up. Once everyone had left, Zach stood and plodded down the cold, aluminum steps. After tossing his empty bottle in the nearby trash can, he shoved his hands in his coat pockets and wandered toward his best friend, halting a few feet from him as he zipped up the small orange and gray duffle bag.
“Good game,” Zach said.
“It was.” Cael looked up at him, arching one eyebrow, the auburn scruff on his face lighting up ginger under the sun’s intense rays. “Did you even watch?”
Zach shrugged. “A little.”
“Liar.” Cael grabbed the duffle and the bag with extra sticks. He passed the stick bag to Zach, who took it without question. Cael grabbed the half-empty case of water bottles by the torn plastic wrapping, and they turned to head for Cael’s truck.
“How ya feelin’?” Cael asked, his feet kicking up dust as they crossed the gravel lot.
“Like shit.”
Cael snorted. “You look it.”
“Fuck off,” Zach grumbled half-heartedly. “I could have been in bed right now. Sleeping. Instead, my ass is frozen and I feel like a bunch of little leprechauns are jack hammering like fuck inside of my skull.”
“Suck it up, buttercup. I told you not to drink so much last night.”
“Whatever. I’ll deal.”
Cael paused at the tailgate of his dust-covered, blue F-150 and looked at Zach. He tossed the duffle and water into the bed. “I think someone just needs to get laid.”
Zach glared at him.
“Or blown,” Cael continued, taking the stick bag from him and throwing it over the tailgate into the truck.
“You offering?”
Cael snorted and glanced around the now nearly empty parking lot. “As much as I would love to suck your dick, I figured a girl would be more your speed.”
