Not to mention my old co-captain and former best friend.
I jerked my headphones over my ears and closed my eyes. I was so damn jetlagged I could sleep for years. The wine had tasted phenomenal, but I was too exhausted to finish it, and I wasn’t an animal.
One never chugged wine.
Or champagne for that matter.
The woman next to me started reading a gossip magazine. The faces staring at me from the cover belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend, and I cringed.
Thank God I was wearing my hair down around my ears so I wasn’t immediately recognizable.
The black beanie helped.
But there was nothing I could do about my golden eyes.
People typically saw what they wanted, though, and according to the world I was still hiding out in my flat licking my wounds.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
From Premier league to the United States.
From Chelsea.
To Seattle.
It was career suicide.
But I’d wanted to be as far away as possible.
And since my mom was American, it made sense.
At least to me.
My former teammates had something else to say about their number-one striker running away.
I snorted. Let their girls get knocked up by a teammate and get back to me.
Shit.
Music pounded in my ears, lulling me to sleep. A few days away before the chaos started, and I’d be good as new.
I licked my lips, still tasting the wine on them, and closed my eyes, letting sleep take me.
“WAKE UP!” a voice screeched next to me.
I jerked to attention as the woman tugged down my headphones and reached for my hand. “Engine failure!”
“Stop yelling.” I pressed a hand to my temple as I looked around the cabin. Everyone seemed to be panicked and staring at the flight attendant like she was going to somehow fix this or hand out parachutes.
“This is your captain,” crackled a reasonably calm voice over the loudspeaker. “We’ve lost one engine, but luckily we’re a few miles out from the Puerto Vallarta airport. Just hang tight and try to relax. We’ll be making an emergency landing in the next ten minutes.” Oxygen masks tumbled from the panel above us. The captain came back on. “Flight attendants, prepare the cabin, and buckle up.”
The woman next to me was pale as a ghost. “This!” She held her head in her hands. “It can’t end like this! I’m not ready, you hear me, universe!” She clenched her fists. “I was left at the altar, this is unfair! Completely unfair!”
“Uh, can I get you something?” I whispered to her in an effort to both calm her and try to get her to put the mask over her nose and mouth. “To help you calm down and stop talking to yourself?”
“One thing.” Her light-blue eyes met mine as an electrical charge pulsed between our bodies.
The plane shook and dove a few hundred feet. I grabbed her hand and rubbed it with my thumb.
She shrieked and reached for my shirt, gripping it with both hands while her eyes frantically searched mine for confirmation everything was going to be okay.
The plane plummeted again.
I gripped her hands, needing the distraction just as much, as a loud noise filled the cabin.
“Answer this question: What one thing do you regret?” she said in a voice that sounded like failure, like giving up, like the world was against her in every single way.
“Just one?” I tried to make light of the conversation even though my adrenaline was spiking like I’d just started the championship match. The plane kept diving at rapid speeds, causing my stomach to lurch. We needed to get our masks on, but getting them on seemed like it would only make her more frantic, and I needed her calm. I wasn’t sure why—I just did. Maybe because her touch was calming me. Maybe because it was the first time I’d touched another woman since being betrayed by the one I thought I loved.
“One.” She nodded more calmly now.
I kept my eyes locked on hers. “I would have drunk all the wine. You were right, it deserved more than a ‘good.’”
Her eyes lit up like I’d just told her she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, which wasn’t too far off the mark. From her caramel-colored hair to her almost too-big eyes to the wide smile on her pillow-like lips, I could imagine many things I’d rather be doing with her than talking.
“Really?”
“Really.” I nodded. “Your turn.”
The plane dipped, and she sent a worried glance toward the cockpit.
“Hey.” I grabbed her chin. “It’s going to be fine, pilots are trained for this. Just focus on me, on my voice. Can you do that?”
She swallowed, closed her eyes, then nodded. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Good.” I dropped my hand as an alarm sounded around the plane. The flight attendants ran to their spots as we lost more elevation. I could see the mountains in the window right along with civilization; we were at least ten thousand feet, maybe lower. The airport must be nearby.
“I would have said no,” she finally answered.
“Said no?” I repeated, confused.
“To Alton, when he asked me if I loved him. I would have said no. I would have said not the way you deserve, and I would have walked away.”
Heavy.
My eyes briefly scanned her left hand. No ring.
“And then”—she kept talking—“I think I would have kissed you.”
My eyebrows shot up as a smile spread across my face despite my growing anxiety over how fast the plane was traveling and how close we were getting to the ground. “Oh? You often kiss strangers?”
“Only ones from Spain.” So she’d nailed my heritage without even asking. Which seemed impossible, I was mostly half Spanish and German with a whole bunch of other things my mom couldn’t seem to remember.
“Spain is for lovers,” I found myself saying like an idiot.
She smiled, though.
And I wanted to think it was because of me, not because of who I was, or what I did.
“My favorite place in the world,” she said in a faraway voice as the plane bounced lower, making her shriek as she clutched both my hands in hers. “Are we going to die?”
“Absolutely not,” I lied. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I couldn’t die, not when I finally had a fresh start. “We’ll be just fine.”
“Okay.” She nodded a few times and gulped. “But just in case, I think I’ll do this—”
Her mouth was on mine before I could protest.
And then any argument I would have had died on my lips at the first taste of her tongue. Her hands tugged on my hair as my arms wrapped around her warm body.
The plane made a screeching sound and then slammed against the runway, pulling us apart amidst sirens and cheers from the other passengers.
I stared at a pair of lips I wanted to taste again.
And when she said, “I’m Ashley, what’s your name?”
I did the dumbest thing to date and lied. “I’m Hugo. Nice to meet you.”
Chapter Three
MACKENZIE
I just mauled a nice stranger with my tongue.
And gave him a fake name.
All within the span of five minutes.
This was not normal behavior.
But he’d been there.
And those eyes.
Paired with my absolute panic that we were about to die, I just . . . I reacted.
And it felt good.
So.
Good.
The last time I’d reacted to something without thinking, it had been with hives after eating too much peanut butter. Well, that and this vacation. Two instances.
I wasn’t reactive.
I was a planner.
Which was probably why my parents were so concerned about my impromptu trip. I was the girl that had a wedding book at age five and had picked out my colors and flowers at six.
“Where are you staying,
Ashley?” Hugo asked.
Oh duh, me. He was talking to me. I was Ashley, not Mackenzie. “Um, the Secrets resort, something . . .” I frowned. All I could remember was that I’d booked the penthouse with a swim-out because Alton said he’d want his own private pool for us since we wouldn’t be leaving the room at all.
I blushed at the thought.
Funny, since the guy had never passed third base the entire time we were together.
Saving it for later, he said.
Making it special, he said.
He respected my father too much, he said.
Hugo handed me my bag. “Me too.”
“You too?” I said in a confused voice as we were shuffled out of the plane by security and enough police officers to make my head dizzy.
“Secrets,” he said slowly. “It was one of the first ones to pop up on my search engine. I booked it and didn’t look back.”
“Oh.” My head felt warm as I followed him off the plane and toward customs. He went into a different line, not that I was watching.
By the time my passport was stamped and I found my luggage, he was nowhere to be found.
I tried not to be disappointed.
After all, this vacation was about me.
Not the handsome stranger I’d kissed in first class when I thought I was about to die.
“You ready?” Hugo said from behind.
I jerked and then turned as he dangled the keys to what looked like a Ferrari—the rearing horse emblem was a dead giveaway—in front of my face.
I was used to money.
But my family didn’t spend it if it wasn’t necessary.
So renting an expensive foreign car?
Not necessary when you could invest!
Who was this guy?
“You’re not one of those people that kidnap Americans and then get a ransom, are you?” I asked stupidly.
He bit down on his lip. “Do I look like a kidnapper?”
“Well . . .” I narrowed my eyes and studied him. “No. Yes. I’m not sure.”
He leaned in until we were chest to chest. “Trust me.”
I sucked in a breath, he was so close, and the gold flecks in his eyes were so hypnotic I didn’t even blink. “Can I?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? You’re being spontaneous, you’re the one with all the regrets.”
“Not true—” I started to argue.
He silenced me with a brief kiss that left me shocked, aroused, and my heart pounding. “Then why the question? The one thing you ask before you plummet to your death is what you would do different, which makes me assume you would do a lot of things different, and you don’t look like the type of girl who gets into cars with strange men.”
“That’s because I listened about stranger danger in school.” I smirked.
He barked out a laugh. “I must have missed that lesson.” One side of his mouth lifted in a cocky half smile. “I skipped a lot of school . . .”
“Shocking.” I crossed my arms.
“Get in.”
“But—”
“Send a text to your mom, dad, best friend.”
I tried not to cringe at the words best friend.
“Let them know where you are and where you’re going just in case you really don’t trust me, then get in the damn car.”
He was already taking my bags when I texted my mom my location and turned on my GPS.
And then I was suddenly sitting with a complete stranger in a sexy electric-blue Ferrari that roared to life so hard and fast I almost felt sorry that we couldn’t just take it out for a few hours. Then again, he was a stranger. Would it be weird to ask for a joyride? Something told me that’s how good girls get kidnapped or end up pregnant, sports cars and guys who look like that.
Hugo put on a pair of black Ray-Bans and grinned over at me. “You ready for vacation?”
“Ready.” I wasn’t ready. I so wasn’t ready. This wasn’t me. This behavior. But something was building in my chest, something exciting, something that felt both wrong and right at the same time.
He hit the accelerator.
I let out a scream as we flew out of the airport and down the streets of Puerto Vallarta. We passed malls, restaurants, car dealerships, and finally about ten minutes into our trip he turned right then left, and there we were.
Secrets.
The guard at the gate asked for our passports, then widened his eyes for a brief minute before Hugo slipped something into his hand and fired off something in Spanish.
The man grinned and held out his phone.
Hugo turned to me. “He wants to take a picture of us on our first day. I may have lied and said we were married . . .”
My face fell.
“It will be quick, promise. No worries.”
Before I knew what was happening, I was leaning in and taking a picture with Hugo, and then I was being helped out of the car and handed a glass of champagne.
The staff seemed a little eager to see us arrive.
Maybe it was the car?
Hugo seemed to calm everyone down with a few gorgeous words in Spanish. I even found myself nodding, though I couldn’t understand a word because he was talking so fast. I could only catch enough to know he was discussing his stay and something else about a newspaper.
I’d stupidly studied French all through college.
That, I was fluent in. But Spanish? Nada.
Okay, so I knew nothing.
Literally.
In seconds, I was swept away to registration. Across the room, Hugo was making sweeping motions with his hands while a little kid ran up and tossed him a soccer ball.
I frowned.
The ladies at registration kept pointing and covering their mouths with their hands while they giggled.
Yeah, I got it, I did.
The man was gorgeous.
Not merely “Oh look, he has nice eyes and a body that could run for days without breaking a sweat,” but really just . . . beautiful to look at.
All smooth skin, rippling forearm muscles, and bracelets—how did a guy get away with wearing so many different rope bracelets without looking stupid?
I blinked and looked closer. Did he have a braid in his hair too?
Huh.
The same silky hair I’d tugged on.
I shivered.
“Welcome home!” Marta said with a grin. “You’ve booked the penthouse suite for four days. Anything you need at all, and we’ll have a butler personally see to it, Miss—” I grabbed my key cards before she could say my name.
“Thank you!” I interrupted and stood. “I’m tired, I think I’ll just go—” I did a 360. “Where’s the elevator?”
“I’ll go with you.” Hugo flashed me his key card.
“Hmm, you following me now?” I teased.
“Apparently we both have good taste.” There were two penthouse suites per floor.
Side by freaking side.
I was P601.
And he was P602.
I shook my head; it was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
These things didn’t really happen, did they?
The elevator dinged at our level, and we stepped off. “I’m just going to . . .” I pointed to my door.
“Nap? Relax? Drink?” he offered.
“Yeah, all of the above,” I admitted.
“See you around, then.” I felt his smile make its way down my body like a caress and then experienced extreme disappointment after I slid my key card and was met with emptiness when the door opened.
This was supposed to be our room.
Our honeymoon.
Filled with champagne and sex, that was what you did on a honeymoon, right?
Like I would even know.
I walked out to the balcony and swim-out pool as the sound of waves crashing against the sand filled my ears.
A chilled bottle of champagne waited with chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Davis!”
I ripped the ca
rd in half, then in thirds, then momentarily lost my mind and imagined setting it on fire, when a voice called out. “Great view, huh?”
Hugo was literally my neighbor except for a partition that blocked him from seeing my pool and into my room.
I gulped and looked out at the ocean. “Yeah, it is.”
“More champagne?” He pointed to my hand still clutching the champagne with a viselike grip.
“Yeah,” I croaked.
“Are you by yourself?” he asked a few seconds later.
“Yes.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Do you want to be?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, no . . .
Just then he hopped over the partition, swept me into his arms, and lowered his head. His mouth was searing hot, his grip tender like he knew my shame, my sadness, and wanted to make them go away the only way he knew how. I clung to that kiss like a lifeline and promised myself I’d do whatever it took to forget Alton—and be the girl of adventure I’d always wanted to be.
I was going to start with Hugo.
Chapter Four
SLADE
I was kissing her again.
Maybe it was because it had been months since I’d had a decent kiss, since I’d jumped into the arms of anyone who didn’t know me by name.
I could be Hugo for a few days.
Hugo seemed spontaneous.
Hugo seemed relaxed.
Hugo seemed fun.
I sure as hell needed some fun.
I broke away from her kiss and trailed my fingertips down her chin. “So, now that we’ve established the plane didn’t crash and we’re here side by side, what did you have in mind?”
Ashley grinned up at me, her eyes a bit hesitant as she looked from me to the ocean. “Well, I’ve never gone cliff diving, I heard there’s a great place close by.”
My eyebrows shot up. “No offense, but you don’t seem like a thrill seeker.”
She laughed. I decided I liked the way her laugh relaxed me, made me respond with a smile and a need to kiss her again. “I’m not, trust me.” She sobered a bit. Her lips turned down.
I wanted nothing more than to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth just to see if it would make her decide to smile in my direction again.
Risky Play Page 2
