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Except I’ve been living out of a fucking hotel since I got to Virginia, and this weekend was finally going to be my one free weekend to go house hunting so the guys can stop giving me shit about always borrowing their places. But now I have to deal with yet another crazy redhead.

Seriously, what are the odds that on the same day I announce my move from California to Virginia, a goddamn rumor comes out all over social media, turning my honest reason of wanting to move closer to my family to finish out my career, into a PR nightmare?

She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone.

“What is the point of me giving you all these rules if you don’t follow them?” Tyler asks.

“Rules are for pussies!” our left tackle shouts from the other side of the home gym, making a bark of laughter fly out of me. And also making me thank my lucky stars for the millionth time since I met these guys that I made the right decision joining them.

I give Tristan, the guy who yelled in my defense, a thumbs-up in the mirror in solidarity. They have taken all of this in stride and have also taken great pleasure in making fun of me every time they see another ridiculous rumor pop up, like the one earlier this morning that said my secret love child is hidden away on that island. My previous teammates would have ripped me a new asshole for taking the spotlight away from them, insanely jealous of anyone on the team who got more attention than they did.

“Huh. Who knew you had hazel eyes?” I mutter to Tyler when my laughter caused him to look up from his phone for longer than two seconds.

Tyler stares at me like I’m crazy while I chug half my bottle of water, and maybe I am. I’ve felt completely batshit insane ever since a spunky redhead literally fell into my life five months ago.

Emily Flanagan. It’s nice to finally have a last name to go with the new batch of insanity in my life. I think it’s officially time to stop obsessing about what I thought was one of the best nights of my life.

“Quinn, I’m gonna need you to focus here,” Tyler orders, snapping his fingers a few times in front of my face, since my brain and my dick started thinking about long, toned legs, the way her soft skin smelled like a tropical island, that big, gorgeous smile, and how silky her dark-red hair felt wrapped around my fist. “No more redheads. Rule number one. I even made you write it on a piece of paper and sign it, for fuck’s sake! I knew that birthday party and you not letting me do background checks on all the guests was a bad idea. I just didn’t think it would take five months before it came back to bite us in the ass.”

“What can I say?” I shrug as Tyler grabs a towel from a small table next to him and tosses it at my chest. “I have a type.”

She just didn’t seem like the crazy type who would wait this long before selling stories to the tabloids. My crazy radar is really on the fritz. She was so fun, and normal.

“She honestly never told you she was from Virginia? And you swear to fuck you never let one thing slip about you moving here that night so she could time this shit juuust right?” Tyler asks me for the tenth time since he got here. “I enjoy surprises as much as anyone. Like when my father surprised me with a yacht on my eighteenth birthday, or when my fraternity brothers surprised me with a Porsche on my thirtieth, and when JJ Watt surprised me with a Rolex on my fortieth. Fun, classy, everyday surprises that everyone loves and can relate to. I don’t like surprises where a gold-digging, attention-seeking whore tries to ruin your good name from a Podunk island no one has ever fucking heard of!”

When I immediately open my mouth and realize I was just about to call one of my best friends a piece of shit and tell him to shut the fuck up about a woman he doesn’t know, I remember I don’t even know her. I’m still on the batshit insanity train, and I don’t know how to get off!

Have you already forgotten how many times you’ve gotten off thinking about her the last five months? Shit!

“I’ve heard of Summersweet,” I say as calmly as I can, unclenching my fist from around my water bottle until the plastic crinkles back into its original shape. “My parents actually took me and my sister there over summer vacation once when we were kids. We only spent two days there because there wasn’t really much to do once you took a tour of the small island, rented bikes for a scenic ride through town, hung out on the beach for a while, checked out a few of the gift shops and other stores, and then grabbed dinner, followed up with some ice cream from the local ice cream shop. I just remember it being really chill, and everyone was friendly.”


Tags: Tara Sivec Summersweet Island Romance