PROLOGUE
THREE YEARS AGO
ASTON
The thingabout the Stallions winning a football game at Walker University is that the campus doesn’t just go to their homes or dorms and settle in for the night. No, we party. Hard. And tonight, the party is at our house.
My twin brother and I share a house with two of our teammates, and unfortunately, our house has becometheparty house. My brother and roommates don’t mind at all. Me? I don’t love it. After the first and only time I walked in on a couple fucking in my room, I installed a padlock on my door. And the cleanup from one of these parties is the absolute worst.
I can already tell tonight is going to be much of the same. A disaster to clean up. Don’t get me wrong; I love a good party. I’m a Griffith after all.
A few of my teammates are standing with me, recapping the game, but I can barely hear them over the bass from the speakers, vibrating through the soles of my shoes. And truthfully, my focus is entirely locked on the beauty across the room.
Evangeline Carrington.
She’s holding a red cup in her hand while gesturing with theother as she talks to a couple of girls I recognize from the Walker U broadcasting station crew. Her media badge is still hanging around her neck, dangling over a cropped Walker University football T-shirt. Even in this crowd of fans, friends, and teammates, she looks out of place—in the best way possible. Classy. Bright.
I’ve spent the last three months finding excuses to linger by her on the sidelines during pregame warm-ups, dropping horrible one-liners and matching her sarcastic remarks just to see the small dimple pop in her left cheek.
I’ve been waiting for the exact right time to ask her out. And after the interception I made tonight that secured our win and making their quarterback cry, tonight feels like the perfect damn time.
I set my beer down on a table and start cutting my way through the sea of moving bodies, keeping my eyes locked on Evangeline. Then a broad shoulder moves right into my line of sight.
Ace.
My identical twin brother swaggers over to her, his posture practically radiating the easy confidence he carries everywhere. He leans into Evangeline, stepping directly into her personal space because he has no boundaries. Then I see him flash his trademark smirk—the one that looks exactly like mine, only he uses his a little more freely—and he says something that makes the whole group of girls laugh.
Except that Evangeline doesn’t laugh like the other girls. She has a smile on her face like she’s amused, but her eyes scan the room until they meet mine.
For a split second, there’s this silent, heavy pull between us. I brace myself to keep walking, to brush past my brother and claim my spot next to her.
Before I can take another step, a girl whose name I completely blank on slides into my path, her hand holding myforearm. I know I’ve hooked up with her before, and I feel bad that I can’t remember her name.
But then Evangeline looks back at Ace. She gives him a polite smile, tilting her head as he keeps talking, watching him as his hand gestures wildly while he likely recounts some play from the game—hyping himself up, no doubt.
“Hey, Aston! Great game tonight! You were literally amazing out there. I’d love to celebrate with you.”
“Uh, yeah, thanks. I’m good, but if that changes, I’ll come find you,” I mutter, my voice on autopilot.
My eyes instinctively shoot back across the room. Evangeline is watching me again. I see her gaze on the girl’s hand on my arm, and then it drifts to my face. The subtle, easy warmth that I usually see on her face flickers with a shadow of something that looks an awful lot like disappointment.
I want to shout over the music for her not to look away, that it’s not what it looks like.
But she looks right back at Ace, now smiling and nodding at him—tuning me out, apparently.
The girl next to me is still talking, but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. My chest feels tight, and an ache is creeping in behind my ribs.
I’m a fucking idiot. I waited too long.
An hour later, the party is still raging, sweat now mixed in with the smell of alcohol in the room. I walk into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge, but pause in the doorway when I see a sliver of a back and the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. Eva’s talking to some guy I don’t recognize, who’s holding an unopened beer in his hand, clearly drunk.
“Do you need me to open that for you?” she asks him, and it makes me smile.
He shakes his head and continues on his quest to flirt with her, I guess. He’s slurring so badly and talking loudly, but Eva patiently listens.
“I love how you don’t let facts get in the way of your opinion.” She nods.
This time, I can’t help the laugh that comes out.
