PROLOGUE
HANNAH
The night sky is a kaleidoscope of neon colors. I tilt my head back and laugh. It’s a giddy, bubbly sound that I don’t think I’ve ever heard come out of my mouth before. How long has it been since I’ve been this happy? Happy and reckless and…fleeting.
It won’t last. This feeling. Drunk and laughing and almost carefree. That’s the thing about those great nights that you want to bottle up forever. They can’t be contained. And maybe that’s what makes them so wonderful.
Tomorrow morning everything will go back to the way things were before. I’ll go back to hating him and he’ll go back to pretending that he wouldn’t be bored with me in five minutes if this were real.
His hand envelops mine. Big and warm. The callouses on his palm match up with my own. It fits a little too well.
“Hannah,” he whispers my name and something about the quiet of it amid the loud, busy streets feels reverent.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. Looking at him seems to get me in trouble. But I can perfectly imagine his dark, wavy hair and the one piece that’s always falling onto his forehead. And his smile –big and uneven. It’s unnerving how well he’s imprinted into my memory for how little time we’ve spent together.
He’s all wrong for me and yet…
Yet nothing has ever felt more right.
1
TRAVIS
“Nice game tonight. Two goals in two minutes. Impressive start.” I hold up a fist to my teammate Nick with what’s left of my energy.
He lets loose an uncharacteristic grin as he taps his knuckles against mine. “Thanks.”
Tonight was our first regular season game in front of our home crowd. We pulled out a win, thanks mostly to Nick.
“Is this what we can expect from you all season?” I ask.
“I hope so.” He tips his head to me. “Nice assist, by the way.”
I played pretty well too, but three shots on goal and nothing found the back of the net.
“Are you going to MVP?” I ask, standing and pulling off my shoulder and elbow pads.
“Yeah. Ruby and I are going to stop by the bar for a little bit.”
“Ah good. I’ve missed our girl.”
“Our girl?” He quirks a brow at me but smiles. He does a lot of that these days. The smiling. Also, the brow quirking. He’s a grump in love.
“I mean, yeah. I’d say she’s ours. I have a picture of her wearing my jersey as my phone wallpaper. Want to see it?” I flick my head toward the locker behind me.
His lips curve into a big smile, which is the opposite reaction I was expecting. He smooths it out before he says, “She’s wearing my jersey tonight so clearly she’smine.”
“What was that smile about?” I make a circle with my finger pointing to his face.
“Nothing.” The corners of his mouth tick up slightly. He looks like he’s fighting his natural reaction. The question is why.
“You had sex with her while she was wearing my jersey, didn’t you?”
“While she was wearing your jersey?” He parrots the question back like the idea is completely absurd, but he’s stopped fighting the smile that threatened to break his grumpy-resting face and flashes a big, wolfish grin my way.
I’d say that’s a yes. Well, shit. Way to ruin that visual for me. I gifted her one of my jerseys at her going away party a couple months ago, before she decided to stay in Moonshot. It was part gift and part gag. I knew Nick would hate it, especially if she wore it, which she did. And now I’m trying hard not to imagine him fucking her in it.
Without any further words, he turns on his heel to leave.
