The Keeper (Playing to Win #1)(8)

“Everly,” I yell and open the door. Only, instead of Everly being there, the hall is empty.

Son of a—

My eyes fly to Easton. “It’s Vegas. We can get this annulled, and nobody will ever have to know, right?”

If they don’t already.

My mom’s gonna kill me.

My sisters . . . Good grief. My brothers are going to lose their minds.

“We’ve got to get this annulled. Quick,” I add on for good measure as I pull up the jeans Everly handed me.

“No.”

“I’m sorry. What?” I ask as I stare in disbelief. “What the hell do you mean no?”

Easton crosses the room in two strides and sinks his hand into my hair, pulling me closer.

I drop whatever else I was holding as I lean back against the door behind me and lay my palms over his chest. “Easton—”

“Stop talking, princess.” He brushes his mouth over mine, and a million sparks light up my body for the very first time. I sigh, and Easton’s tongue pushes into my mouth. Firm and deliciously demanding. Making me momentarily forget about this morning. About any war I was about to wage. I ignore the fear and anxiety bubbling under the surface and just feel him. Feel. Us. Until suddenly I can’t feel him anymore.

Because Easton pulls away, leaving my body cold and my heart racing. “Like I said, princess. Like it or not, we’re married, and we’re going to stay that way until you remember last night. Once you can tell me you remember marrying me, if you still want to annul this, I will. But for now, go pack your bags.” He smacks my ass and turns me toward the door. “See you soon, wife.”





Easton





The door closes with a soft snick behind Lindy, and I have the overwhelming urge to open it back up, just so I can slam it shut.

How the fuck does she not remember last night?

I bared my fucking soul.

She fucking said—

My phone rings, cutting off my thoughts, and I yank it off the table. “What?”

“Good morning to you too, asshole.”

“I’m not in the mood for your shit today, Pace.” I hit speaker and toss the phone on the bed so I can find my clothes.

“Aww. The honeymoon sex a disappointment? It gets better, buddy. You’ll last longer next time.”

“There was no sex last night, dick.” This motherfucker. “Lindy woke up this morning, didn’t remember any of it, and asked for an annullment.”

“Ohhh . . . Burn. That had to be a blow to your big, fat ego, huh? How you gonna fix it? Not sure it can really be fixed. But you’re gonna try, right?”

“You gonna take a breath, man?” I drop down on the bed and tie my damn boots, then rest my elbows on my knees. “She’s getting on a jet in an hour. How am I supposed to fix anything?”

“You want to give her the annulment?”

“Fuck no,” I growl.

Pace scoffs like the shithead he is. “Weren’t you trying to convince me yesterday she wasn’t your girl?”

Trying to convince myself is more like it, but I keep that to myself. “I was wrong, and you know it. You’ve always known it. And you’ve never missed a chance to point it out.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it. Can you hold off on the annulment until you can talk to her? Or better yet, see her? When’s the next time the Vipers play the Revolution? At least then, you’ll be in the same city.”

“Pace, you’re a fucking genius. I could kiss you, man.” I jump up and grab my keys and the phone.

“Dude. I’ve always been a genius. ’Bout time you fucking noticed. But I’m gonna need you to tell me what the fuck you’re talking about this time.”

Always the smartass. “I need you to make a call.” I smile as I walk out of the hotel room. “I need you to accept the trade.”





Buckle your seatbelts and put those tray tables in an upright position, peeps, because I’m about to take you on a ride. Breaking news this morning: Madeline Kingston is now Mrs. Madeline Hayes! If a certain socialite’s social media is to be believed, baby Kingston married Vegas Vipers’ hotshot goalie, Easton Hayes. This isn’t the first time these two have made headlines together, so you might want to get ready for a bumpy ride.

#KroydonKronicles





LINDY





My bare feet slap against the dirty hotel carpet as I stomp out of the elevator on my floor. And yes, I know how gross that sounds. And that I’m probably not the first person to do this disgusting walk of shame. Ick.

That thought hits about the same time I manage to walk face-first into Maddox’s chest. His hands grip my shoulders as he laughs. “Hold up, trouble. Where’s the fire?”

“You’re a tool, Maddox.” He grins, and I pinch his nipple. We’re very mature for our age. Technically, I may be his aunt, but he’s always been more like an annoying brother than anything else. He’s two years younger than me but likes to act like he’s ten years older.

The door to our suite opens behind him, and I cringe.

Great. More witnesses to my humiliation.

Brynlee pops her head out of our door and scrunches her nose like she just smelled a skunk. Or more accurately, just got a look at my morning-after face, which is probably even worse than I’m imagining. Because seriously, that would be about right. “Come on, Lindy. If you move fast, you’ve got time to shower before we have to leave for the airport.” Her nose scrunches again. “And use some extra body wash. The booze is wafting from your pores.”