Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

ZACH

T he Florida heat hits me square in the face as I exit the airport, and I scan the pickup lane for Mom's silver Range Rover Evoque, her dream car that I bought for her last Christmas. If you're earning eight figures a year and can't treat your mom, then what are you doing with your money?

"Over here, honey!" She leans out the driver's window just a few cars down.

Dumping my suitcases in the trunk, I jump in the passenger side and kiss her on the cheek. "Hey, Mom."

"Good flight?"

Turbulence and hangovers don't mix. "Yeah, it was fine."

She pins me with a concerned look. "You look washed out."

"I'll be fine. I got the news I needed. I just need to catch up on sleep."

"Why don't you stay at our house for a couple of nights? The guest room is all made up."

I love my parents, but I need my own space. "Thanks, but I just want to get started at the house."

Mom joins the freeway and glances over at me. "Okay, but at least stay for dinner."

I'm close to my parents, always have been, so moving to Seattle was tough. I was drafted early but opted to go to Tampa Bay College and study engineering, but as I entered my senior year, the Scorpions called me up, so I moved to the West Coast.

It's only fifteen miles from the airport to Mom and Dad's place, and it passes with a barrage of questions about Amie along with her angry rants about the way she treated her son. "Your dad and I never liked her, Zach. She was trouble right from the beginning."

We pull up in the long gravel driveway. Mom and Dad have lived here since I was born. It's a small, three-bedroom home with a modest backyard. I offered to buy them something bigger, but as it's only me and no other siblings, they don't see the point. My dad, Andrew, is a house painter and decorator, and my mom, Rachel, works at the local library, so I wasn't brought up with money. The least I could do was pay off their mortgage, and I did with the fat signing bonus I received from the Scorpions.

I grab my bags from the car when Dad races outside, his arms outstretched. "Son, it's great to see you. Welcome home."

"Hey, Dad, good to be home."

"Your mom tells me you're back for the offseason and to work on the beach house."

We make our way up the porch and step into the entryway; the familiar scent of home hits me immediately and warms my chest. "Yeah, I want to get it fixed up. Thought it might be good for me."

"I'd say you're right, and I can give you a hand."

"Sounds good. I was going to ask Luke if he wanted to help."

It's been a while since I caught up with my high school buddy and oldest friend, Luke. We were inseparable when younger and played hockey together, but then I went off to college, and he stayed behind to work for my dad.

"You can ask him now," Mom chimes in. "Is he still here?"

Dad nods. "Yeah, we were just finishing up distributing this week's jobs."

Stepping into the living room, I find him scrolling through the TV channels. "Hey, buddy."

Luke's head snaps up to mine as he rises from the couch and brings me into a hug, clapping his hand on my back. "Evans, good to see you. It's been a while."

"Too long," I reply.

"Are you staying for dinner tonight, Luke?" Mom shouts from the kitchen, which is divided by an archway.

"Nah, thanks, Rachel—first barbecue of the season." Luke turns to me. "You wanna come? There are a few people going."

I shout back to Mom. "I'm back for three months—plenty of time to cook for me."

"Tomorrow night then," she replies.

I turn back to Luke. "Yeah, why not."

I didn't expect this reaction.

Standing in the empty white kitchen of the beach house Amie and I were supposed to use as our second home, it all comes back to me. The hope I had for a happy future with the woman I thought I loved. The ring I planned to put on her left hand when I surprised her with this place. Life fucking sucks sometimes.

Making my way through to the living room, I cast a quick glance around. There's one gray couch the previous owners left and a small wooden coffee table in the center. The place isn't big; it's only a two-bedroom. I bought it for its position and privacy, as it backs directly onto the vast beach. The bonus is that you get a perfect view of the rocket launches from Kennedy Space Center.

I remember spending nights lying on the soft white sand, watching the latest launch with my friends. Luke was into it, but his ex-girlfriend, Luna Johnson, was obsessive. Long after all our other friends had left or gathered around a campfire drinking, she'd talk my ear off about the constellations, but mostly about aerospace and the mechanics of the latest launch. To be honest, most of what she said went in one ear and out the other, but I couldn't help the way her animated face drew me in. Maybe it was her passion and love for something I found so endearing.

I've kept in light touch with many of my old friends, Luna included, but heading to tonight's barbecue is like taking a step back in time to when I was eighteen and about to leave for college. It's a comforting feeling of déjà vu.

Moving through to my bedroom, or what was supposed to be our bedroom, a king-size bed sits alone and against washed-out blue walls. They're uneven and need work, like most of the house. But it's the flooring and porch that need most of my attention. I'll be pushing it to get everything completed in the three-month window I have. Whether I'll flip it and sell it afterward, I don't know. I just know it'll be a welcome project while I distract my mind from the events of the past six months.

I stand staring out of the glass doors overlooking the beach when my phone begins to ring.

Jesus, I need to update his contact.

"Hey."

"Is it still showing as Magnificent Morgan?"

I roll my eyes, even though there's no one to witness it. "Yes."

"Good. I assume you made it back to the Sunshine State?"

"Yeah, I'm standing in my bedroom right now, thinking how much work there is to do."

"I'd love to help, man, but you know me and DIY. I'll probably make it worse."

I chuckle. "Yeah, probably."

"So, what have you got planned for your first night back?"

"I was about to grab a shower, get changed, and head to the beach. I'm meeting some friends there. You remember Luke, right?"

"Oh yeah, works for your dad?"

"Yeah, well, he invited me to a barbecue, and a few of my old school buddies should be there."

"Cool, be good for you to relax. Just don't go breaking any hearts this summer, alright?"

I laugh at the thought of a summer romance. "Not likely."

By the time I make it down to the beach, it's close to ten in the evening. The barbecue is almost out, but I couldn't not show my face. I need the distraction and a chance to see some friendly faces.

I immediately recognize Luke, who's cooking what remains of the food, and I make my way over to him, hoping to grab something to eat since the last thing I ate was on the plane. "Any burgers left?"

"Not much but that and a couple of wings," he replies. "Grab a plate, and I'll load you up."

He begins piling my plate as I turn to look at the group of friends twenty feet from us, sitting around the bonfire. Hudson, a former high school and later college friend waves in my direction, and I lift a hand to wave back. I recognize a blonde girl sitting next to him; I think her name is Hayley. She was a couple of years younger than us, but I saw from her social media that she now runs a successful florist in the area. There are a few more people all laughing and joking, but I don't recognize them.

"How often do you have these barbecues?" I say, turning back to Luke.

He lifts a shoulder. "Whenever we can but not all that often. Hudson's wife sometimes comes along, but the numbers have dropped off since most now have children."

I remember they used to be almost every weekend when we were at school. When I've made it home in between seasons, I've never stayed long enough to meet up with everyone, maybe a night or two at most, and so I'd spend my limited hours catching up with Mom and Dad. Jon came back with me a couple of times, and we grabbed a beer with Luke.

"It's cool you kept it going. I'll have to bring some of the hockey guys over one day. We don't exactly get beach barbecues in Seattle."

"Yeah, why not. Tell Jon congrats, by the way. I saw on social media he got engaged to his girlfriend."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks for the food." I thumb over my shoulder. "I'll head over and join the others."

"Zach?!"

At the sound of a soft but sweet voice, I turn back around to face Luke and see a small figure racing up behind him.

As she approaches, the light from the barbecue captures a mass of auburn hair, followed by dainty features and freckles—so many freckles. Her smile reaches her ears as it accentuates the light blush on her cheeks.

Luna.

Other than on socials, I haven't seen her for at least three years, the last time being when I came home for the holidays and we went out for New Year. She's always been incredibly pretty, but somehow, she's grown prettier with time. She's her own brand of unique—from her unpredictability to her smile and pixie-like features. She's feisty too, an endearing kind of unfiltered. She says what she means, and I wonder if, over the years, she's held onto her genuine qualities. Living and working in a world surrounded by pro athletes and money, I've found this to be a rarity.

"Luna," I say with a smile. I set my plate down on the camp table next to the grill and hold out my hand for her to take. But she completely ignores my gesture and launches herself at me, throwing her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

I stand there, rooted to the spot. Her familiar vanilla scent washes over me as memories of the hours we spent on the beach as teenagers come crashing back.

She rests her head over my shoulder and tilts her face toward my ear. "There's no way I'm shaking your hand. You might be super rich and famous, but you're still Zach to me."

My hands rest low on her back and through her T-shirt and cut-off denim shorts, I feel her body heat radiate through mine.

All too aware of our position and the company we're in, I take a tentative glance at Luke. His eyes are ablaze as he pins them on us and takes a swig of his beer. The light is dim, but I don't miss the way they flash with an unmistakable emotion, and it's definitely unappreciative.

Luna split up with Luke just before we headed to college. I remember he took it hard; they were dating for two years, and from what I'm seeing right now, he's never gotten over her. I know he's dated since, but he's never married. Neither has Luna.

I set her back down, and it's then that I remember just how much I tower over her; she must be only five-four at best, and her slight frame accentuates her petite exterior.

Her coffee-colored eyes scan over my body, taking me in. "I see you added to your tattoo collection."

I pull at the sleeve of my T-shirt. Why the fuck am I feeling shy? "Yeah, full arms now."

"And hands." She takes my left hand in her small grasp, and I feel the contrast of her smooth, soft palms against my calloused skin. The contact sends a shot of something through my body, catching me entirely off guard.

Turning my arm around, she studies the ink, stopping when my forearm comes into view. "Nice, seems fitting you added a scorpion."

"Yeah, got it last year."

A throat clears from behind us, and I glance over Luna's shoulder to see Luke pointing to my plate. "Food will be cold in a minute, buddy."

Shit, yeah.