Chapter 1

Weddings, engagements, hell, the whole idea of promising that you'll love someone for the rest of your life, is nothing but a messed-up fairytale. Nobody can possibly know they're going to love that one person for the rest of their life, or that they won't give in to temptation at some point and be unfaithful. Trust me, I learned this the hard way—finding out the man I was engaged to for five years was already married to someone else and had the family that I was promised. The entire breakdown of a relationship, married or not, isn't worth the pain or anger. That's why I've decided to avoid unnecessary complications from now on. The day I walked away was the day I decided that fairytales aren't my thing.

"Another drink?"

"Gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, light on the tonic."

I let my eyes make one more sweep around the room, hoping to find, or rather hoping not to find, the one man I've been avoiding for months. The one man who could possibly make me reconsider the temporary ban on men. Releasing a small breath of relief, I turn back to the bartender, thanking him for the fresh drink, before turning and making my way across the room.

"Zoe, you look absolutely gorgeous," I say, joining the bride-to-be and her bridal party, consisting of Ainsley, the on-again off-again of two guys on the team. There's enough drama there to encourage the rest of us to avoid relationships. Then, of course, Eva, who is new to Moose Falls but is the sister of Jensen, the top pitcher for the Minnesota Moose, and Sophia the team's photographer.

"Thanks, babe, you look downright hot. If I wasn't so set on remarrying Alex, I would totally consider taking you home. If I were into chicks."

I laugh, hoping my cheeks aren't as red as they feel. I knew wearing the deep purple velvet dress would bring some attention my way, especially when the slit up the side is high enough to make a man wonder exactly what I'm wearing under the dress. Having your engagement end the way mine did left me with a lack of confidence that I desperately want back. In my early twenties I never doubted for a minute my appeal, but now I can't fight off the feeling that maybe I'm less than desirable.

"I've got twenty bucks that says Harlow is the first one to leave tonight… and not alone," Ainsley says, eyes shimmering with trouble.

"Double or nothing I'll be the last to leave," I tell her, bringing the glass to my mouth and letting the taste of gin dance on my tongue.

"You sure about that? Because I see a certain dark-haired, tatted third baseman making his way over here." Zoe reaches out and takes the glass from my hand before turning me around so I can see she's right. Hendrix Hunter is making his way across the room… directly toward me.

Trying to ignore the tingle of anticipation that works its way down my spine, my eyes move across the room, looking for any excuse to get out of here before Hendrix closes the last little bit of distance between us. It's not that I don't want to be around him, I just can't trust myself to be around him. He's too tempting, and tonight's rehearsal dinner already has my emotions all over the place.

The last time I saw Hendrix I was still engaged. I had just found out about Ian's family, and although the relationship was over, I hadn't officially ended it. Hendrix and I shared too many drinks, and before I knew what happened, we were in his hotel room. I walked away before things went too far and I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the morning. It was hard enough walking away from him that night. Now that I'm officially single, I wouldn't trust myself to make the decision I know is right. Bad decisions are my modus operandi. I have a weakness, and a baseball player with tattoos, a bad attitude, and a reputation is it.

"Incoming," Ainsley says before looping her arm through Zoe's and pulling her along, Sophia and Eva following behind them.

"Harlow." My name coming from his lips in that slow, rough whisper has parts of me whispering back with an offer of more.

"Hendrix, how are you?" I ask, scanning the room for an excuse to not be alone with this man right now.

"I'm not sure if I'm more annoyed with the fact that I want to throat punch all of these assholes picturing what you're wearing under that dress, or the fact that I can't kick my own ass for wondering the same thing."

"Always nice to see you again."

"Is it? Because I could have sworn you were hoping the floor would swallow you alive when you noticed I was heading your way." He smirks, knowing he caught me and I can't deny it.

"It's not that I was avoiding you, it's just that I'm currently avoiding all men, and you just happen to be one of them." Taking a break from men seemed like a good decision when I found out my engagement was over, but right now, staring at this man in his black dress pants, matching button-down, and purple tie has me wanting to break my own rules. The fact his tie matches my dress is not lost on me. For a second, I wonder who he asked, before remembering that I didn't show the girls my dress before tonight. I wasn't completely sure I'd wear it and had a backup dress just in case, which means the tie and my dress matching is a coincidence I'm not altogether comfortable with.

"I see." His gaze runs down the length of my dress before coming back up to meet my own. "Why don't you let me grab you another drink, and you can tell me all about this plan of avoidance."

"I don't think that's a good idea." I look around the room, hoping nobody has seen us together yet. The team's bad boy and the manager's daughter are two people who should never be spotted alone together.

The smirk that crosses his face is the most sinful thing I have ever witnessed. Forget about all those better-than-sex cakes that everyone claims is all you need. No. I need more of that smile and nothing else. "Worried someone will see us talking?"

"Aren't you?" I know all about the drama and media attention that follows Hendrix, and after my breakup going public, the last thing I need is for anyone to start rumors about anything happening between Hendrix and me.

"Not really." He laughs when I glare at him. "I'm guessing you've heard about the threats your dad has tossed my way."

"You mean the ones about how you need to stay out of the media and not cause any more waves if you want to remain a part of the team?"

Hendrix stares at me, a look of disappointment crossing his face for the quickest second before the playfulness returns.

"Look, we aren't doing anything wrong by standing here talking. I'm not undressing you in the middle of a room full of people, so you have nothing to worry about."

The mention of him undressing me has my body heating in a way it hasn't in months. I need to walk away now before I'm tempted to ask him to actually do it.

"Alright, I'll have a drink with you," I say, although I have no intention of hanging around for that drink. With a nod, he heads to the bar to get us drinks.

As soon as Hendrix reaches the bar closest to us, I make my way to the smaller bar on the opposite side of the room.

"Gin and tonic, heavy on the gin and forget the tonic, please." Turning, I watch to see that Hendrix is still waiting at the other bar while looking around the room.

Facing the bar again, I grab my drink and then make my way through the groups of people talking, heading out the ballroom door and into the hallway. Knowing if I stand in the hallway, it won't be long before someone discovers me, I open the first door I see and step inside.

"Because this won't look pathetic," I mumble as I slip off my heels and hop up onto the bathroom counter. There are few things more embarrassing than being that guest, the one who gets shitfaced in the bathroom during the rehearsal dinner while hiding from everyone else. Although, I guess in order to get that drunk, I'm going to need a lot more than a couple glasses of gin.

"Are we hiding from someone, or are we getting sloppy drunk in the bathroom?"

Damn it, he's fast. "I thought I lost you," I snap, not caring that I sound like a bitch. I keep my eyes focused above his shoulder. This man is too damn sexy for his own good. I'm afraid if I look him in the eye I'll turn into a puddle of goo and slip right off the counter.

"Not a chance. And it's a good thing too because I come bearing gifts." I can't stop the smile that tips up my lips at the two bottles of champagne he clearly stole from the party.

"Do I have to share with you?" I ask, half joking. Because if I'm being honest, I could drink both of those on my own.

"Well, I was thinking a bottle for each of us, but if we only open one at a time it won't seem so bad tomorrow when we wake up full of regrets." The laughter in his voice causes a ball of nerves to form low in my belly. There is no logical reason for me to be attracted to this man. He is everything I should be avoiding, and yet I want nothing more than to chase the regrets with him.

"Good point. And since I'm not one for regrets, I'll take my own bottle." I tip my glass back, downing the contents in one final swallow. "Pop the cork."

I watch in slight shock, and full of nerves, as his hand closes the distance between us. I watch his long fingers wrap around the glass and pluck it from my own.

"The way I see it, pouring the champagne from the bottle to the glass is an unnecessary step, not to mention it delays the satisfaction of chasing our buzz. You see, if we pour it into the glass, then we have to wait for the foam to die down before we drink it, that takes what, thirty seconds give or take."

I nod, because, to my slightly tipsy brain, this makes sense. Also, I'm afraid of how breathy my voice will sound if I actually were to speak.

"So, with those thirty seconds after each pour, we lose about five minutes of solid drinking time."

I nod again, because, really, he's thoroughly thought this out. "If I hadn't decided to give up on men, I would be so turned on by your math skills right now."

Hendrix tips his head back, and the laughter that fills the space is deep and loud. It's a sound I shouldn't want to hear again, and yet the urge to make him laugh again is almost impossible to ignore.

"Pop the cork, Hendrix." I tip my head toward the champagne in his hand.

"That's my girl."

That's my girl.Why does everything he says have to sound so seductive? I want nothing more right now than to hear him whisper those words while he's moving inside me.

"I'm not anyone's girl," I tell him, trying to remind myself that I can't want those kinds of things right now, especially not with someone like Hendrix Hunter. "But I do promise not to be mean to you anymore tonight since you brought booze with you."

"Good enough for me." I watch as the cork from the first bottle bounces off the counter and hits the floor, followed quickly by the second.