Prologue

PROLOGUE

JACKSON - SEPTEMBER - THE BARBECUE

L osing everything I’ve ever wanted with one single failure of my knee taught me that dreams change in the blink of an eye. Dreams reshape daily and sometimes into new, beautiful dreams that eclipse the old dream beyond measure.

I’ve watched my friends fall in love, and realize that life is about slowing down and appreciating those around us. And normally I’d be in agreement but why are my friends being so weird right now? Trevor won’t get out of the car. Benji is sniping at me every chance he gets. Now Eli is head over heels in love with this big-ass blond guy that looks at Eli like he hung all the stars and moon in the sky.

At least Clay Springs is beautiful. The hills roll behind Colby’s house, with only a few houses dotted on the horizon. It’s the beginning of September and the air is still thick with humidity, sweat dotting the collar of my dress shirt.

“Why are you always so… you?” Benji asks through gritted teeth.

I roll my sleeves up on my forearms with a playful sneer. “You love me.”

“Thin line between love and hate, buddy,” Benji quips, lips curled up in a look somewhere between a frown and a grimace.

I grab some chips off of Benji’s plate even as he dips to avoid me. Crunching the chips in my mouth with a grin, satisfaction rises inside me when Benji’s cheeks flush with annoyance. It’s easier to steal his food than to get my own. I glance over the crowded barbecue hosted by Colby and Eli. Most people seem to be Colby’s family, the only people here for Eli are me, Benji, Trevor being a weirdo out in the car, and Eli’s scary Russian mother, who looks at me with a mix of hesitance and distrust.

My eyes land on a redhead standing in the corner next to a brunette woman with curly hair. Jesus. His hair is so long, it lies in waves over his thin shoulders. There’s this curious, odd grin on his lips as he makes the brunette laugh. My gaze dips to the golden retriever at the redhead's feet wearing some type of medical alert vest.

“What’s got you silent all of a sudden?” Benji asks around a mouthful of food, which is totally normal for him. Seemingly following my gaze to the redhead, Benji laughs, deep and low. “We’re here to support Eli, not fish for fucks.”

“Shut up,” I demand.

“Touchy.”

“Get him over here to talk to me.”

Benji’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Whistle?”

“Jesus,” I swear in frustration.

Either by fate, or just dumb luck, the woman notices us watching them. With a generous curve of her lips, she takes the redhead’s hand and tugs him toward where we stand under the mossy oak.

As the redheaded stranger gets closer, I notice light freckles under gorgeous green eyes. They’re an exact match for the darkest bits of foliage on the branches overhead. Christ, I’ve never seen hair so perfectly auburn before. The dog is beautiful too. Takes all the willpower in my body to not get on my knees and shower her with love. I had a client once that had PTSD and used a service dog to alert for panic attacks, so I know the drill—ignore them when the vest is on.

“Hello,” the brunette says with sparkling eyes. “I’m Andy, and this is my cousin, Harper. You guys are Eli’s friends, right?”

“Coworkers,” Benji amends at the same time I say, “Best friends.”

Andy and Harper both stare at us for a moment, before Harper’s lips curve up in a smirk. “Well, which is it?”

“Both,” I reply, heart racing a little just from the proximity. Standing in the presence of a god among mortals has me feeling a little off-kilter. I’ve been with a lot of people, but Harper is so beautiful it takes my breath away.

Harper aims a sidelong glance at Andy. “Why did you drag me over here?”

Andy rolls her eyes affectionately. “Sorry about him. We don’t bring him out in public much,” she mumbles out of the side of her mouth.

Benji howls with laughter. “It’s okay, we don’t bring Jackson out much either.” Benji slaps the back of my head and I scowl. “Big guy doesn’t have any manners.”

A little divot appears between Harper’s eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t they bring you out much?”

“He’s bossy,” Benji answers for me.

I widen my eyes at him hoping he’ll get a fucking clue. He’s killing my chances. I’ve got to nail this. What’s the best way to be cool? Suave, hotter than sin? I grin broadly at Harper, which only earns me a puzzled look in return.

“Do you follow sports?”

“Sure,” Harper says slowly with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Basketball?” I ask hopefully.

“Oh, Jesus,” Benji mumbles.

“Not really,” Harper admits, fluttering his hand across the deep scar over his left temple. “Football really, sometimes baseball.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Tighter pants,” Harper explains with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Well, that does make sense. “Best quarterback of all time?”

Harper looks thoughtful for a moment as Andy sighs mournfully from beside him. “Jimmy Garoppolo.”

What the fuck. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Harper replies as he reaches over to take a cookie off of Andy’s plate. I swallow hard as he chews thoughtfully on the cookie.

“You think the best quarterback of all time is… Jimmy Garoppolo?” I ask, voice a little high pitched because I’m truly astonished.

Benji’s laughter rattles through my bones and I shoot him a serious shut the fuck up look, which he promptly ignores. The way he’s looking at Harper has me weirdly uncomfortable, so I puff out my chest.

“He’s hot,” Harper answers with a shrug of his shoulders.

Well, yes. But I have profound issues with picking a quarterback solely based on their beauty. It’s not… legal, and it's not fair.

“You can’t rank quarterbacks solely on their hotness,” I point out. Sweat is starting to prickle even more at the nape of my neck. Rubbing my hands over my forearms, I watch as Harper’s eyes track the movement, his throat bobbing on a hard swallow. Got him.

Harper’s eyes narrow. “Says who?”

An awkward laugh bubbles out of me just as Benji makes this weird explosion motion with his hands. I’m going to absolutely pummel him the moment we get into the car. The way Harper’s eyes sparkle each time he gives me an answer has me wanting to step closer, makes me want to ask him if he wants to get a drink to keep arguing about the technicalities of ranking athletes on hotness.

“You rank all football players on hotness?”

Harper’s grin is devilish, and warmth blooms in the pit of my belly at the sight. “I rank all athletes on hotness.”

All athletes on hotness. Not skill. Jesus Christ.

“I think you’ve 404 errored Jackson,” Benji notes with a mouthful of chips.

“Sounds like an accomplishment,” Harper quips as he aims his gaze back toward the crowd.

It is an accomplishment. No one unsettles me. But something about Harper… yeah, I want him. But I can’t get the guy to even look twice at me. All my chances to get him alone are dashed when Trevor finally appears and has his huge romantic moment with Beau. Cool, happy for him, but Harper disappeared before I could get his number.

And that is the biggest travesty of the night.

Not even arguing with Benji fixes my mood.