Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ZACH

I 'm totally exposed.

Like, literally.

And cold. My raging boner is on full display and not a single inch of duvet is left on me. A certain redhead has stolen it, her cute body wrapped in it like some sort of cocoon.

It's almost six in the morning, and I need to get in a light run and work out before more families pile onto the beach. But first…I reach across and tug the bedding from underneath Luna, causing her to roll onto her back, her long eyelashes resting against her flawlessly freckled complexion. Fuck, she's beautiful, and way too good for me.

Whipping the covers over my head so they envelope us both, I hover over her, holding my weight on my forearms. Her eyes flutter open as I place a gentle kiss against her collarbone. "Morning sheet stealer."

She wraps her legs around my waist, both of us still naked from a night of barely letting each other sleep, and I feel my already hard cock press against her entrance, desperate for more.

She smiles up at me. "You know I don't play by the rules."

I run my hand through her disheveled hair. "I messed your hair up good last night."

She shrugs her shoulders, throwing her arms around my neck. "It's messy most of the time anyway, so better for it to be like this for a reason."

If it's possible, I harden even further at the memory of how it was wrapped around my fist last night while I fucked her from behind. I need back inside her. "Are you sore? I know we went at it hard last night." I bury my head in the crook of her neck and inhale her sweet vanilla scent. "Fucking awesome, by the way."

Luna brings her hand between us, searching for my dick. She drags it a couple of inches lower until it's back at her entrance. "You're huge, so yeah, I'm definitely aware of what we did. But I want to do it again."

I want to fuck her raw, want to rid any last remnants of the damage Amie caused, but I can't. I'm not ready. As I reach for protection and roll it over me, I look down at Luna and pray she knows this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with my past.

Each time we've had sex, it's been frantic and desperate, and even though I'm far from sated, this morning feels different. Her large, deep-brown eyes encapsulate everything she is—gorgeous, kind, genuine, and deep.

My mouth works ahead of my brain as I let the words slide off my tongue. "Come to the Hockey Now charity gala with me."

My hips rock slowly over hers as she grips me tightly. "In Seattle?"

Sweeping her hair to one side, I kiss her pulse point, knowing it's likely to send her over the edge. She moans in pleasure and the deep sense of satisfaction knowing I did that to her rolls through my body, gathering at the base of my spine. I'm so close to coming, yet I've barely moved at all.

"As my date. I want you to come with me. Come back with me before school starts."

"I, umm. Your date?"

"Yeah. Let me take you out." I kiss the underside of her chin and chuckle. "Ply you with champagne."

She laughs excitedly. "Yeah, why not."

I know she wants to ask more about what it might mean to be my date, and honestly, I wish I had answers too. Answers to everything hanging over us, including the expiration date this summer has.

A long moment passes as we stay buried in each other's bodies and thoughts.

"You're in your head again, aren't you?"

I roll my hips once more and bring a hand to her cheek. "I'm good, Rocket. Are you okay?"

She nods her head and tightens her grip around my waist. "Yes. But don't fuck me slow."

Her statement is loaded, I know it is. Going slow invites too many emotions we both can't afford to take hold. Instead, we'll let them simmer beneath the surface and pray we can keep the lid tightly shut. For both our sakes.

I'm back from my morning run, and Luna's still down at the beach swimming when my phone starts buzzing on the coffee table.

Half expecting it to be Mom since she normally calls at this time, I race over and grab it, hitting accept. "Hi M?—"

"Zach? Zach, it's Amie. Don't hang up. Please."

Everything inside me revolts. I haven't spoken to her in weeks, maybe months, and the sound of her voice scrapes through me like nails down a chalkboard. I take a seat on the arm of the couch. "Hi."

Silence.

"You blocked me. Mature, Zach. Real mature."

Holding the phone to my ear, I drop my head between my shoulder blades. "Lose this number, Amie."

"You don't even want to hear what I have to say?"

I squeeze my eyes shut at her patronizing voice, so many memories. "There isn't anything else to say."

Her tone turns soft. "So you don't think about us at all? What we had."

I rise to my feet. "No, I don't, Amie."

"You aren't at your apartment. You haven't been for weeks."

I catch myself mindlessly pacing the length of the house. I'm wound up like a coiled spring, ready to fire off. "Why are you coming around to my place?"

"To talk. Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter."

She puffs out a frustrated breath. "I heard you're back home in Florida."

"Amie, you're heavily pregnant with another man's baby. Go make a life with Schneider. Don't call me; don't message me. Just?—"

"Shacked up with some girl."

What? How the fuck did she find out about Luna, although it doesn't surprise me she does. My need to protect her ignites. The best hope I have is to deny everything because the moment Amie gets her claws into something, she won't let go.

"I'm going to say this once and once only."

"What's that?" she drawls.

"Fuck. Off."

I hit end on the call and immediately block that number too. I'd like to think she'll take the not-so-subtle hint to exit my life, but honestly, I'm not so sure.

My spiral is interrupted when the front door opens, and Luna strides in wearing a tiny beach dress and pink sandals.

Gathering her salty hair into a top bun, she eyes me and then shifts her gaze to the phone I'm gripping so tightly I'm surprised it's not dust. "All okay?"

I stride over to her, throwing it on the couch as I go. "Screw working on the house today. Let me take you out, do something fun." I pick her up with ease since she's so light.

She smiles and brings her hands to the nape of my neck. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"Somewhere cool."

"Well, I need to take a shower because I smell kind of salty."

Marching her toward the bathroom, I hold her with one hand and undo the tie on the back of her bikini with the other, letting the straps fall around her delicate shoulders. "I can help you with that."

Luna Johnson in the Kennedy Space Center Rocket Garden is like a kid in a candy store.

"Saturn 1B gets me every time. It launched the first crewed mission of the Apollo Program, and at 1,600,000 pounds of thrust, it is huge." She chases over to it, pushing her phone into my hand. "Take a picture."

I fight back the urge to joke about pounds of thrust, even though if Jon were here, he'd be disappointed at the missed opportunity.

She poses, her hand out to the side pointing to the huge object like it could somehow be missed, and I laugh. "I swear I've seen your picture next to this one on socials."

Her deep-auburn hair reflects in the sunlight, and I can't help but admire her body in the tiny pink denim shorts and NASA T-shirt she insisted we stop by her place and pick up when I told her where we were headed. "Not from this angle you haven't."

Taking the picture, I hand her back the phone, and she inspects the shot. "Hmm, not bad."

I lean down until my lips brush the shell of her ear, and a rush of delight surges through me when I notice the way her skin pebbles in response. "Try fucking stunning."

Tipping her head back, she eyes me carefully, the apple of her cheeks blushing slightly. "Thank you, but I was referring to the angle of the H-1 liquid-fuel engine."

Fuck me, this girl. She's all kinds of cool. Forgetting where we are for just a moment, but not giving a crap either, I lean down and place a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. The place I've become obsessed with.

Still not giving a shit if I'm recognized or if photos will be taken, I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers, the feel of her tiny palm against mine mimicking the soothing feel of the warm summer sun. "Come on, Rocket. Where to next?"

We're sitting eating lunch in the café when I feel my phone buzz in the pocket of my shorts.

Jon

Message from the wife: Bring Luna to Seattle a couple of days before the gala. We're taking her shopping.

These two are insufferable. Luna's busy flipping through pages of the latest program, so I quickly type out a response.

Me

Two things. One, I never confirmed she was coming. Two, shopping for what, and what's your game plan?

Jon

Technically that's three. Is she coming to the gala?

Me

Yes. But that's not the point.

Jon

That's precisely the point. You asked her, and Felicity and Kate are going shopping for dresses, etc. so they want to include Luna.

That's kind of sweet but also terrifying. I also didn't know Kate Monroe, Felicity's best friend and colleague, was going.

Me

I didn't know Kate was going.

Jon

Attending as a senior staff member for Preston & Preston.

Preston & Preston are the latest corporate sponsor for Hockey Now, and both Kate and Felicity work there as lawyers. Fucking awesome lawyers. Terrifying lawyers.

Me

Is she bringing a date?

Jensen

No.

What the fuck? I check the top of the chat to see it is, in fact, a group chat involving us three.

Me

So, my love life is now the subject of a group chat?

Jensen

I don't really know why I'm here to be honest…

Jon

Your wingman game is slipping Jensen.

Me

I'm kind of busy, so to cut to the chase, I'll ask Luna if she wants to go shopping.

Jon

Busy…

Jensen

Can I leave this chat?

Jon

No.

I close the chat. I think our captain's had enough encouragement for one day without me telling him I'm busy on a day out with Luna.

My phone buzzes, again.

I roll my eyes. Jeeez, I'm not sure who's worse with these two.

Felicity

Please could I have Luna's number?

Me

It's been thirty seconds since I told Jon I'd ask her…

Felicity

So plenty of time.

I look up to see Luna still reading the latest article on Mission Psyche.

"How do you feel about makeovers, shopping, and cocktails?"

Her eyes narrow but the twinkle in them is clear. "In relation to?"

"The gala. Jon's wife—I mean fiancée—wants your number."

She flips the page and smiles. "I'm up for that."