The kiss makes me feel a little breathless, if I’m being honest. And it sends a very real, undeniable shiver down my spine when his tongue touches mine. I’m entirely grounded in the friction of Ace’s lips and the warmth of his hands as they slide around my waist, tugging me in closer.
He breaks the kiss and pulls back slowly, a dazed smirk on his face.
It was a good kiss. A really good kiss.
“Can I get you home?” he offers.
“No, I walked over with some friends, who I should go find before they leave without me.” I start to stand.
“Are you sure?” he asks, standing with me, and places his hand on my hip. His thumb brushes the bare skin at the waistline of my jeans.
“I’m sure.” I step away before I change my mind and agree to let him walk me home.
“Wait, I need your number.” He pulls out his phone, and I hold my hand out.
“I’ll text my number from your phone. Then it’s up to you from there, Ace.” I smile.
When I hand him back his phone, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Oh, I’m calling, so you’d better answer.” He follows me when I turn to walk back into the house to find my friends.
“Okay, then, Ace Griffith. I’ll talk to you when you call.” I leave him standing in the kitchen, and with one last look over my shoulder, I wave, then walk away. And I can feel him watching me the whole way.
As I leave the house with my friends, the adrenaline starts to fade, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
It’s a little weird, I admit to myself. Aston and Ace share DNA. They share a face. A body. Even though they’re totally different personality-wise.
Maybe I was a little infatuated with the idea of Aston, but I’m not some jersey chaser. And I’m not going to waste my time or play mind games. So, I’ll give Ace a real shot and have some fun while doing it.
CHAPTER ONE
ASTON
My family has thrownsome pretty amazing parties over the years, but while my family is Texas classy, Liam Pitz and Alie Grant’s wedding is New York classy. I’ve never seen anything like it—white flowers everywhere, twinkling lights, and lots of sparkle. Even after my last two years in the league and the parties and events I’ve had to attend, nothing compares to this. This … is old money, Hamptons money.
Hell, this place is so big that my friends and I have a place to stay for the night in several of the guest cabins around the property.
The sun has gone down, so the air is finally cooler. Most of the stuffy guests have thinned out, and those of us left are getting hammered. I got rid of my light suit jacket a while ago and just set my favorite gray Stetson on my table before wandering over to the bar.
I’m ready to have some fun with my teammates and friends from Walker University. Two of my brothers, Archie and Aiden, are here. Well, Archie is here. I’m not sure where Aiden is. He was supposed to be here in time for the ceremony.
The bartender is currently fighting a losing battle against a room full of professional athletes, former college athletes, and the women who tolerate them. I fit myself into an open space at the bar and hold up a hand to get the bartender’s attention. He walks over, looking frazzled.
“Just a Miller Lite.”
He nods and pulls a bottle out of the cooler behind him, pops the cap, then hands it to me.
As I stand there, people-watching, I take a drink from my beer, then unbutton a few buttons of my shirt to give me a little breathing room since I’m about to have some fun with my crew. My gaze roams around the room and then stops when the crowd parts.
Holy shit.
She’s here. How is she here?
Evangeline Carrington.
My lungs completely forget how to do their one job.
It’s been two years since she walked out of my twin brother’s life, taking a piece of his pride and apparently my ability to breathe with her. She’s leaning against the edge of a high-top table, holding a glass of champagne.
