Fall With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 4)

There are some letters of the alphabet that should never go together. They just don’t work, and the more someone tries to force them together, the more painful they sound, like rusty, disease-laden nails on a dusty-ass chalkboard. Like—and this is a totally random assortment of letters, and my opinion is totally unbiased—R, Y, N, and E.

“You two were such a gorgeous couple, Lennon, honey. He’s so torn up about the breakup. Don’t you feel like you owe sweet Ryne a second chance?”

I feel like I owe him a swift kick in the nuts. Sometimes I dream about gouging his eyes right from their sockets. And hey, wouldn’t it be cool to punch him so hard in the throat it permanently damaged his voice box and no one would ever have to hear him say good girl again?

“Auntie Alma, respectfully, Ryne’s a piece of shit.” Serena holds her hand up, stopping Alma when she opens her mouth to protest Ryne’s shittiness, or Serena’s language. “Respectfully. Len doesn’t owe him shit.”

Auntie Alma isn’t my real aunt, in case it wasn’t obvious. Ain’t no way a blood relative of mine is seriously suggesting a second chance with Ryne.

Me

Quick, send me a voice note of you calling me honey.

Mimi’s BFF just called me it and it ruined everything for me.

Jaxon

WTF? Do I have to fight her? Ur my honey, not hers.

A voice note appears ten seconds later, along with a message to listen to it alone. I slip around the side of the house and press the phone to my ear, Jaxon’s rough, low voice sending shivers down my spine.

“I can’t wait to see you again so I can eat your sweet cunt, then make you taste your own honey from my lips.”

Sweet baby Jesus, my soul has left my body.

Another comes in, this one much tamer, but it makes my knees wobble all the same.

“I miss you, honey.”

I press my phone to my chest, looking out at the yard. Okay, it’s more like a park. Mimi’s backyard is just shy of an NFL football field. She lies and tells all her friends it’s two feet longer, but I’ve heard Auntie Alma gossiping with the rest of the girls: none of them believe it.

Despite the sheer size of it, she manages to fill it every year. Tables upon tables filled with food. A grilling corner and refreshment gazebo. Picnic tables for the kids, and linen-covered tables for the adults. A bouncy castle that would put Ireland’s destroyed birthday inflatable to shame, an Olympic-size swimming pool filled with Tiffany-blue floaties, and an acrylic dance floor set by the small stage where the band will play once dinner is cleared away. Oh, and at least a hundred people.

This isn’t a normal cookout. This is Mimi’s Annual Pre-Summer Social, and the only purpose it serves—other than bringing family together—is to display to her friends and frenemies how rich she is. Honestly, I approve. I eat the best I eat all year, I dance my ass off, and I go home wasted.

“Hiding already, darling?”

I glance over my shoulder as Mimi puts a cigarette out against the brick, waving her hand through the smoke before ditching the butt in a dish that she hides above the windowsill. I lift a brow, watching as she pops a mint in her mouth before producing a tiny bottle of Amorem Rose, her favorite perfume, spritzing it on her wrists, dabbing it behind her ears.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say as she straightens her dress, a butter-yellow square-neck floral midi that complements her rich brown skin and long legs. She hooks her arm through mine, and we stroll back to the party. “You’re not supposed to be smoking.”

“It was either a cigarette or telling Alma to shove it where the sun don’t shine.” The corner of her mouth hooks when I snort a laugh. “Always running her mouth, acting like she knows everything about everything. Drives me up the wall some days.”

“She said I should give Ryne a second chance.”

“I think the fuck not, darling.”

The best part about my family is that we almost all run on the exact same wavelength. That’s why it’s not just Mimi who says those words, but also my dad, my mom, and my brother—minus the darling—as we join them beneath a shady weeping willow.

I pout, batting my lashes. “But why ever not? We were such a sweet couple. Plus, we were high school sweethearts. Surely he deserves a second chance.”

My family levels me with the same disgusted, unimpressed expression, and when Serena makes a move for my face, Devin wraps an arm around her head, holding her back.

“Thought you might need some sense knocked into you for a minute there.” She tosses her long dark braids over her shoulder. “Was about to volunteer, only ’cause I don’t see your boyfriend, who apparently lives to fight.”

He’s not my boyfriend. I almost mutter it, not because I believe it, but because I’m trying to convince myself that, since we never officially had that talk, it’ll hurt a little bit less when I climb into bed tonight and accept that he didn’t come.

“Yeah, Len, Jaxon really likes to go at it, doesn’t he?” My dad tucks his hands in his short’s pockets. “Never been much of a hockey guy, but watching him fight is good entertainment when Dev’s losing on the field.”

“You’re watching Jaxon?”

“Like I said, it’s good entertainment. Real fast paced too.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Every time the puck passes the bench, he screams, ‘There’s Len! There she is!’”

“I hoped your friend would come, darling. Since you seem so set on staying up there in”—Mimi shudders—“Canada, he must be something special.”

“Canada is lovely,” I tell her. “Vancouver is stunning. The mountains, the stars, I just love it there.”

“Yes, darling, I know. But it’s cold.” She pats Mom’s shoulder. “Your mother moved to Georgia from Canada. Maybe you can convince Jaxon.”

“Last I checked, Georgia doesn’t have a hockey team. Plus, we’re still new. I’m not entirely sure, you know, how serious we are. Like, are we official? I know we’re exclusive, but⁠—”

“Because he didn’t want to come meet us today?”

“No. Yes.” I shake my head, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know. I was afraid to ask, because if that was his answer, I guess I don’t know what that means for us. But anyway, he’s been recovering from his concussion. He just got cleared, so I didn’t want to ask him to travel any more than he already needed to, or put more stress on him.” I’m still trying to figure out how to have a serious discussion about cutting back on the fighting because I’m afraid he’s going to forget me, or worse, do permanent damage to that beautiful brain of his. I’m just not sure if it’s my place.

Mimi tilts her head, eyes moving over my shoulder. “And if he did come? What would that mean?”

I shrug, winding a curl around my fingers until it gets tangled.

“I see. Well, you better figure it out quick.”

“Huh? Why?”

Mimi ignores me, stepping by me. “Well, hello there. Welcome to my home. Thank you so much for coming.”

Dad’s eyes widen, and Devin grins. Mom and Serena do that high-pitched squeal thing, bouncing on the spot and slapping each other’s hands.

Slowly, I turn around.

My gaze finds a pair of wide hazel eyes, bouncing nervously around my family. When they land on me, a heartbreaking smile blooms, spreading like wildfire across the most handsome face I’ve ever held between these two hands.

“Hi, honey,” Jaxon murmurs, usually mussed waves tamed, a crisp linen button-up rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos. With shaky hands, he holds up the bags gripped tight in his white-knuckle hold and swallows. “I brought ice.”