Page 2 of Blindsided By Fake Love

My body tenses, but then she throws her arms around my neck and plants her mouth on mine—the mouth I spent all senior year dreaming about. I stiffen for a moment before wrapping my arms around her and kissing her back. Lifting her up, I pull her body flush against me. Every inch of me vibrates.

It’s been years since I’ve seen her. The last time was a warm August night the summer after graduation. And as much as kissing her was what I wanted to do back then, I didn’t dare.

“Beau,” she says, breathless. The dazzling smile she beams my way leaves me heated. Like a burning candle, melted wax dripping down its side. “Beau Matthews. Imagine finding you here today of all days.”

“Looks like BDisgetting married!” Noah Jones, one of the Marauders second row, teases, and the others snicker. I ignore them all. My sole focus is intently on the woman I’m still holding in my arms. The sweet scent of honeysuckle overwhelms my senses and brings back the past.

“I wanted to do that that night,” she whispers, running a finger down my lips. A crooked smile slides across my face before she taps me on the cheek…hard. “If only you weren’t…”

My chest clenches. I remember that moment well.

“Are you okay?” I ask, brows furrowing. “Don’t get me wrong, that was the best greeting of my life. But even you have to admit it’s a bit out of character, considering our history.”

I watch the light in her eyes dim and her arms loosen from around my neck. As I gently lower her to the ground, she smacks me in the chest with her bouquet and lets out a weary chuckle before cackling.

Quirking a brow, I wait for her to respond. She’s acting the opposite of the serious Christy Garrett I remember, especially when interacting with me. The only reason I could see her being this ‘friendly’ is that she’s been imbibing.

I’m sure this isn’t typical for her—okay, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her, and I’m making a big assumption—the question is why?

“Completely fine.” She waves her hand in the air. Taking a step away from me, she sways, and I reach out with a hand to steady her. “I’m celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” My forehead pulls together.

“Celebrate with us!” Karate Kid chirps, waving his hand toward the bar and earning a scowl from me. He grins and lifts his hands, shrugging.

“Great idea!” Kit shouts, throwing an arm in his direction and shaking my hand off. I watch as she unsteadily marches her way toward the bar. The guys part like the Red Sea and open a space so she can sit on one of the stools.

Before the group can close up around her, I push my way through and place my body firmly behind her, surprising everyone. From the whispers I hear behind me; the ribbing I’m going to get about Kit will be merciless. But right now, I have an old ‘friend’ who seems to be in trouble.

An old nemesis is a better description. The truth is I only tried to make her life miserable because she was the girl I wanted. Teenage boys are ridiculous, I know. Hormones. What can I say?

“Let’s celebrate my fiancé, Scott Palmer, leaving me at the altar!” She says sardonically. My jaw clenches at the thought of her marrying that tool. Scott Palmer was two years older than us and a complete slimeball. Why would Kit want to marry him?

“You dodged a bullet,” I mutter.

“To dodging a bullet,” Jackson shouts. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he nudges me and hands me a shot. “We shouldalldrink to that.”

Cheers from my teammates and Kit erupt. Rolling my eyes, I take the shot and chug it. The burning of the liquid moving through my body drowns out the burning sensation in my chest.

Iopenmyeyesand immediately snap them shut as sunlight sends exploding pain through my skull. I take a deep breath and a heaviness weighs down my chest and thighs. Keeping my eyes closed, I slide a hand down and come upon an arm resting there. Squinting, I glance over and find red wavy locks spread out around my head.

Slamming my eyes shut, I groan.

What the heck happened last night, and which one of my teammates am I going to have to murder?

Opening my eyes again, I turn my head to find Kit still in her wedding gown and breathe a sigh of relief. Slowly sliding out from under her arm and leg, I scooch off the side of the bed and gently roll to the floor. I grip my head with my hands, leaning back against the bed as a hammer bangs against my skull.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I take slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm my accelerated heart rate. Behind me, I hear Kit grumbling in her sleep and a rustling noise as she switches positions. My lip curls up at the sweet tone of her voice—only to gasp as an image of us standing at an altar pops into my mind.

Slapping my hand over my mouth, I hold my breath and listen for any sound alerting me to her waking up. When her even breathing reaches my ears, I blow out a quiet breath.

I run my hand down my face but pause when I feel something cold. I peel my hand away from my face and catch sight of a gold band. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Spreading my fingers, I slowly open my eyes again and peek down at my left hand.

My eyes widen to the size of saucers, a jolt runs through me, replacing the pain in my head.

Carefully getting up, I turn, and face Kit stretched out on the bed, a small smile resting on her face.

Even after all this time, she really is captivating, even more so when she’s not taunting me with some audacious comeback that has her eyes sparkling and my stomach tightening. Unable to stop myself from giving in to the itch telling me I have to touch her, I walk over to her side of the bed and gently push her hair back from her face.

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