by Hughes, Maya
Fearless King
Maya Hughes
Contents
Prologue
1. Ford
2. Liv
3. Ford
4. Liv
5. Ford
6. Liv
7. Ford
8. Liv
9. Ford
10. Liv
11. Liv
12. Ford
13. Liv
14. Liv
15. Ford
16. Liv
17. Ford
18. Liv
19. Ford
20. Liv
21. Ford
22. Liv
23. Ford
24. Liv
25. Ford
26. Liv
27. Ford
28. Liv
29. Ford
30. Liv
31. Ford
32. Liv
33. Ford
34. Liv
35. Ford
36. Liv
37. Ford
38. Liv
39. Ford
40. Liv
Author’s Note
Excerpt from The Perfect First
Acknowledgments
Also by Maya Hughes
Connect with Maya
Prologue
I could still taste her. The soft, full press of her lips against mine and her raspberry smell lingered on my skin. Olivia peered over her shoulder at me and ran her fingers along her bottom lip, those same lips that were swollen and glistening from my kiss.
The trees in the courtyard bowed and swayed in a canopy that separated us from the people wandering around the hotel. Only we weren’t alone anymore.
“You okay?” Colm walked over and stood in front of her, doing his brotherly duty. He ran his hands up and down her arms. “You’ve got goose bumps.” Goose bumps I’d given her, ones that didn’t come from the light June breeze but from my demanding kiss and lingering touch on her body, though we might as well have been an ocean apart now with him standing between us. He was my best friend, but if he knew what I’d been doing, the thick, metallic taste of blood would be filling my mouth.
Her gaze darted around his shoulder to me and dropped to my lips.
The kiss I’d wanted to give her since the previous summer…
The kiss that had unlocked a part of my soul and cemented it to hers…
The kiss was something I never should have taken from her because I’d spend the rest of my life wanting one more, and one more would never be enough.
I’d seen the nude thigh-highs hidden underneath the pale pink dress that skimmed across her knees. She’d answered the hotel suite door in her robe. The fabric had parted and I’d gotten the briefest glimpse, but it had been enough. It only made it harder to tamp down the desire boiling inside of me.
“I did, and Ford offered me his jacket, but I’m going to head back inside.” She lifted her chin, motioning to the glass doors leading back into the chaos inside.
Shaking my head, I tried to focus on their words. Their conversation had been secondary to my daydreams of Liv.
Her small smile calmed Colm, but the glint in her bright blue eyes when they darted to mine matched the tug I felt toward her, the one I’d been fighting since she’d graduated high school just over a year ago.
She took off toward the ballroom, leaving us out in the courtyard. The bass from the music in the reception traveled in the light summer air. The wedding was for one of our own, one of the Kings.
Declan had been the first to fall, and he’d fallen hard, but there hadn’t been much of a choice when Makenna was his bride. They’d been giving each other hell since high school. Mak never let him get away with anything and always called him on his shit. It had been inevitable that their sparks turned into a full-blown inferno, and I’d never seen them happier.
“Is she okay?” Colm turned to me, his eyes filled with concern.
A pit formed in my stomach. I licked my dry lips and cleared my throat. “Seeing Mak and Declan on the dance floor with their parents got to her. I followed her out here to make sure she was okay.” A thin layer of sweat that had nothing to do with the summer temperature broke out on my forehead.
Colm’s eyes narrowed for a second before some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed and he squeezed my shoulder. “I should have realized. I’m glad you were here. She’s got two brothers around looking out for her.” He stared after Liv through the glass doors.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. I couldn’t see her as a sister no matter how many times Colm tried to cram her into that box. It was like he subconsciously knew what was happening and kept unsuccessfully trying to head it off.
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a bit.” I took a step back.
“When are you going to get over the whole crowds thing. You’re a professional hockey player. You play in stadiums filled with thousands of screaming people.”
I shrugged. “I’d rather be buried under ten opposing players than stuck out on a dance floor trying to do the chicken dance. I’ll meet you in there.”
He stopped and his eyes narrowed. Before, he’d never second-guessed anything I’d done. Everything had been taken at face value, but now there was a hesitation, a pause other people might not even notice. It was a side effect of accidentally sleeping with someone’s fiancée.
His forehead smoothed out, and he nodded before heading back inside.
As I paced in the courtyard, surrounded by ballrooms with different events going on, I stared through the glass at everyone on all sides of me smiling and laughing. The melody from the live band filled the warm summer air around me. I could still feel Liv’s lips on mine. The way she’d stared into my eyes made me drunk and eager to taste her again. Even after the promise I’d just made to myself, even knowing the fallout that would come when Colm found out, I needed to see her.
I walked through the hotel and took out my phone.
Me: Meet me by the garden at the entrance of the hotel
Liv: When?
An immediate response, like she’d been waiting for this message.
Me: In ten minutes
Liv: I’ll be there.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Grabbing a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses from behind the abandoned pre-reception bar, I kept out of sight. I ducked and dodged wedding attendees and hotel guests to get back to the lobby.
Rushing down the front steps two at a time, I held my contraband close to my chest. I hit the bottom and spotted the entrance to the garden. Someone in a car in the long line along the front of the building rolled down their window. Getting recognized was my own personal nightmare. On the streets, outside the stadium, I wanted to duck my head and run for the hills the second anyone squinted in my direction, trying to place my face. I did a double take at the flash of red hair streaming out of the open window.
The blood leached out of my face like a vampire had attached itself to my neck. It wasn’t an actual vampire, but it was a close second. Angelica stepped out of the car and wobbled on her towering, pencil-thin heels. Fuck. I should have smelled her crazy from a mile away.
I whipped around, looking for an escape. If she saw me, it was all over. Her heels clicked on the pavement, and her voice bounced off every available surface.
“Ford!” Her call cut through the thick evening air like a bullet.
Spinning around, I faced her like she was the executioner and my time had come. “Angelica, what are you doing here?” I wrapped my hand around her arm and tugged her away from the entrance to the hotel, closer to the garden.
Liv would be there any second, and I needed to get rid of Angelica. She stared at me, batting her mile-long fake eyelashes.
“What are you doing here?” I a
sked again. Please let her be here for dinner or some other event and not for me.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” She held out her arms and pulled me in for a hug. I kept my hands at my sides. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Hope died a fiery death. I shrugged off her hold as people getting out of the cars looked over at us. “How did you even know where I was?” I nudged her away from the line of cars, farther into the garden. I considered whether to make a scene there in front of everyone and embarrass myself, or try to get her meltdown to happen away from prying eyes, even if it was stupid to be alone with her. Stupidity won time and time again when it was up against making a public spectacle of myself.
She held up her phone, shaking the glowing screen in my face. “I follow all the Kings on social media. Someone posted about the wedding, and I saw you in the pictures.” She looked so pleased with herself, like she’d followed some bread crumbs I’d left her and now was waiting for her prize.
“If I’d wanted you here, I would have invited you.”
“Ready for round two.” She slid her arms around my neck like I hadn’t just made it clear she wasn’t invited. Her perfume clogged my nose and made my eyes water. “I can’t stop thinking about our incredible night together.”
As I stepped back, the gravel of the garden path crunched under my shoes. “That was months ago.” Maybe I’d had too many drinks that night and somehow I’d missed the crazy in Angelica’s eyes. Usually I could spot it and avoided those women at all costs. They made puck bunnies look like nuns, but no, I’d walked right into the jaws of this lioness.
“I know you’re busy. I’m very understanding.” She stalked closer with her eyes focused on my neck like a predator ready to take down its prey. “We can work things out.”
“There are no things to work out. It’s not about being busy. It’s about what we had being a one-night thing.” I never made bullshit promises to get anyone into bed. It wasn’t my style, and it only brought on more complications. “And there is no we.”
“Ford, I know you don’t mean that.” She lunged forward with a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible with her teetering. Angelica’s lips were on mine in a blink. She tasted like cheap vodka and desperation. I turned my head, but her lips were magnetized to mine. My legs hit a stone bench, cutting off my retreat.
“Ford?” Liv’s choked whisper was a dagger shoved deep into my heart with both hands on the hilt.
I dropped the champagne glasses and bottle and shook Angelica free. The glass exploded against the gravel on the path, shards hitting my pants, and Liv’s gaze shot to the remnants of my shattered surprise. The sheen in her eyes reflected in the moonlight. My heart dropped.
“Liv—” I stepped toward her, but Angelica blocked my path, winding her arms around my waist. She swayed and tightened her hold.
“What’s going on?” The words caught in Liv’s throat as though she had to push them out.
“Nothing’s going on. I’ll meet you back inside.” I wrapped my hands around Angelica’s arms, trying to be gentle, breathing deeply to keep from flinging her to the ground.
“Ford, who’s your friend?” Angelica spun toward Liv. Now it was my turn to grab her around the waist. Knowing her, she’d attack Liv or do something equally insane.
Liv, go. I pleaded with my eyes. I didn’t want Angelica to know anything about Liv, not even her name. Just go. I tried to force the words into Liv’s head.
Angelica was a hell of a lot stronger than she looked. She tried to step forward, her heels slipping on the gravel, but I wasn’t letting go.
“Yes, run along, sweetheart. We’ve got business to finish.”
“Shut up, Angelica.” I held on as her muscles tensed like she was poising for an attack.
“Just go, Olive.” My voice came out as a harsh yell as Angelica twisted in my hold and tried to plant another kiss on me. I needed to keep her contained and not let anyone hear about this. That was the last thing I needed to do—tarnish Declan and Mak’s wedding.
Liv stumbled back.
Angelica ran her hand along my cheek. I flinched, not only at Angelica’s touch but at the look in Liv’s eyes. I watched her turn and walk—no, sprint away from me. Grant showed up at the end of the path. His gaze darted over her shoulder toward me and the goddamn octopus of a woman wriggling in my arms.
He tucked Liv under his arm and escorted her out of the garden. His face was a mask of disappointment and anger that bridged the distance between us to kick me straight in the teeth like only a brother could. Thanks, little bro.
I managed to flag down someone from security to get the Angelica situation under control. I also didn’t need Colm to have yet another reason to get pissed at me for my past in the bedroom blowing up in my face. It was a lesson I’d learned the hard way. It was much easier to talk to a woman in the bedroom where our bodies said everything that needed to be said than in the light of day, but that trail of bedroom partners had ended abruptly after what happened with Colm.
Rushing out of the security office while they contained Angelica, I ducked back into the reception. Heath called out my name and waved me over, his blond-haired head bobbing out on the dance floor.
I scanned the room for Liv, but none of the blondes had the glow she did. None with Liv’s updo with strands skimming along her smooth, soft skin. I’d had those silky, golden curls between my fingers less than an hour earlier. The sinking in my stomach multiplied with each passing minute she thought something was going on with me and Angelica.
“Have you seen Liv?” I grabbed Emmett’s shoulder as he passed. Stopping, he glanced around and shrugged, slipping his arm over his fiancée Avery’s shoulder, probably trying to find a quiet place to make out.
My pulse throbbed in my veins. I dragged my hands along my hair and interlocked them behind my head, drowning, standing in a sea full of people. Rushing back out of the reception room, I caught a flash of pink out of the corner of my eye.
Alcoves dotted the hallway, each with a padded bench. I skidded to a stop when I heard Grant’s voice.
“I’m sorry he hurt you, Liver.”
Liv let out a watery laugh. Grant was the only one who got away with calling her that. They’d grown up together, less than two months apart, much less than the nearly five years and truck ton of baggage between her and me.
“I told you back in eighth grade if you called me that one more time, I’d never play tag with you again.”
“I know, but it made you smile.”
I peered around the corner.
Grant tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and looked at her like she was the air he breathed. My jaw slammed shut, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.
“Thank you, Grant. I needed that.” She dropped her head onto his shoulder. He closed his eyes and ran his hand along the back of her head.
Jerking away, I pressed my back against the wall and ran my fingers along my beard.
I wanted to rip his hands out of her hair.
I wanted to explain everything to her and tell her it was all a mistake.
I wanted to not be the guy who’d betrayed his best friend and his own brother for a woman he’d had no business being near in the first place.
Olivia was everything I wanted and everything I should’ve never dared to hope I’d have. Their murmured conversation barely reached my ears. The bitter punch of regret rose in my throat as her sweet taste was seared into my soul.
Walking into my hotel room, I tried to catch my breath. My chest was squeezed tight like I’d been kicked in the ribs with a pair of freshly sharpened skates. I cracked open the mini bar and downed five mini bottles of whiskey. They’d probably want an arm and a leg when I checked out, but this was a liquor emergency. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stared at the open bottle clutched in my hand. I’d made myself a promise back in the garden that I wouldn’t kiss her again. This time it would stick. It had to.
And I kept that promise for another 544 days
.
1
Ford
I wrenched the shower handles to the side, turning off the cascade of water. Picking up a towel, I began to dry off, sweating even more as my heart rate slowed. Cooling off after games was always a pain in the ass. Grabbing my shirt and shorts off the hook in the stall, I stared at my hands. I squeezed them tighter around my clothes as the adrenaline rush shot through me. The crash was inevitable. I pulled my clothes on. Every second I stayed in the shower shielded me from the circus that was post-win locker room chaos: the industrial lighting, the reporters, and the cameras.
After a game I needed quiet. The energy from the ice sent me looking for refuge. I hated how that was the only thing to calm me down after my time trapped in front of a goal with just the ice and the pounding determination not to let the team down.
Without the cover of the showers, the sweat and Icy Hot smell hit me the second I entered the main locker room. Orange, black, and white jerseys were strewn all over the wooden benches, and the team staff members were rushing around to clean up. Some of my teammates trudged in and out of rehab—AKA torture—sessions that included ice baths and brutal stretches that had you biting your fist to keep from screaming.
I dropped my towel into the bin piled high with others—like we could wash away the intensity of the game with a quick shower and a towel off. The bright lights from the news cameras made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, like being under a microscope even though I was halfway across the room.
