Page 1 of Game Misconduct

one

. . .

Bex

one year ago

What. The. Fuck.

The last thing I expected to find on this Caribbean island was my one-night stand from two years ago.

Even worse?

I know him. Or well, I know of him.

Nick fucking Mitchell. Infamous playboy. Notorious panty dropper.

If you ask my best friend, though, he’s just Mitch. Her precious college bestie.

Also known as Mitchell—the guy my brother’s hated for fourteen years.

Way to go, Rebecca Lynn. When you mess up, you do it epically.

Nick stares back at me with poorly disguised horror. I guess that answers one question—he didn’t know of our connection, either.

“Everything okay, B?” Wyatt asks, his arm around my shoulders. “You don’t look so good.”

“Too much fun in the sun.” I wave his concern away, trying to hide that my stomach is twisted into knots. “I drank too much alcohol at the party, not enough water. I’m going back to my room and hydrating.”

“Do you want company?” Elsy asks. She’s been my ride or die since grad school, and now she’s engaged to my brother, so he’s her top priority, not me. I don’t resent Wyatt for falling for her, but I do miss my best friend sometimes. As comforting as it is that she would come hang out with me, I don’t want to intrude on their engagement-party glow.

“I’m good. Just need some time to myself. Alone.”

Unable to control myself, I allow my eyes to rove hungrily over Nick’s broad, muscular form, hating every glimpse I get of him. He’s as gorgeous as ever, with his dark hair, scruffy beard, and those piercing green eyes. The simple navy T-shirt and tan shorts he’s wearing are perfect for our island vacation.

He’s watching me, wary. Good. He should be. I still haven’t ruled out punching him in the face.

Not that he really deserves it. I’m the one who should be punched. I was a total asshole to him, especially at the end. He caught me on a vulnerable day and my insecurities got the best of me.

Fuck. He’s going to be here, on vacation, for who knows how many days. There are about twenty hockey players and their partners here, in theory to celebrate Elsy and Wyatt’s engagement, and also to enjoy the start of the offseason.

Maybe I can avoid him for the rest of the week. Hang out with some of the other couples. I wince at the reminder that almost everyone here is coupled up. I’m one of the only single people on this trip—aside from guys waaaay too young for me. At thirty, I’m not interested in hooking up with a guy in his early twenties. No matter how pretty Luke Henry is.

Elsy squeezes my arm. “Just call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Ducking out of Wyatt’s grasp, I walk past Nick on my way to my room. His scent burns into my nose, rich and woodsy. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten laid. That’s the only reason I’m noticing.

We met in a bar. He introduced himself as Nick, a hockey player, and we never talked about last names. I certainly didn’t give him mine. We also didn’t exchange numbers. Sure, I could’ve looked up the New Orleans roster to find him, but that felt like an invasion of privacy. Especially when we knew it was never going further than one night only.

I make it back to my bungalow and close the door, sagging against it. Tears prick at my eyelids, and I squeeze them shut, trying to keep the waterworks at bay.

Today was a good day. Swimming in the pool, reading on the beach, and Elsy and Wyatt’s engagement party. There will be a more formal party in our hometown, with both sets of parents, but this was just for them. Friends, former teammates. The people they care most about.

Until this happened…

A knock raps on my door, and I know it’s him without opening it. As much as I don’t want to do this, maybe it’s better to rip the Band-Aid off and deal with this like an adult. With a sigh, I force myself off the floor and square my shoulders.