1
Jaxon
I’m no knight in shining armor—or any kind of prince, for that matter—but when Rowyn Perry (a girl who once played Rapunzel in our school play) looks like she’s in trouble, there’s no tower too high for me to climb. Or in this case, no crowded pub too loud or busy to stop me from sliding into the chair next to her and pretending to be her date.
Hell, just a few months ago, she waltzed into my disaster of a Christmas back home and bailed me out without blinking. So yeah, I owe her. And judging by the way she keeps glancing at the door, chewing her lip and pretending not to check her watch every thirty seconds, she’s the one in need this time.
“Go ahead and order without me,” I tell the guys at my table, already pushing to my feet. My chair screeches across the wood floor, sharp enough to turn heads. Doesn’t matter. My focus is locked on Rowyn.
I’ve never seen her here before, which is saying something. This place—Kilting Around with its dark wood, plaid booths, servers in kilts, the smell of fried fish and malt vinegar hanging in the air—is the hangout for the Bucks. Tonight it’s burgers, whiskey, and post-road-trip unwinding for the team’s single guys, while the married ones bolted home to their families.
The guys start heckling the second I tug my coat from the back of my chair. “Another bunny, Jax?” Nicklas calls, like I’m out here collecting phone numbers. I smirk over my shoulder.
“Jealous?” I ask, even though I’m not looking for numbers or bunnies. It hasn’t been true for a long time.
Nicklas flips me off, which only makes me laugh. Then I thread through the crowd, my pulse ticking faster the closer I get to Rowyn. She’s at a table full of couples—everybody else paired off, her looking like Cinderella after the clock struck midnight.
I weave through the crowd, and when I reach her, I dip close enough that my breath ghosts against her ear. “Babe, I’m so sorry. We were late getting back.”
Her head snaps toward me, blue eyes wide as saucers when she realizes it’s me, her childhood friend crowding her. She doesn’t even get the chance to form a word before I lean in and press my mouth to hers.
Do I expect her to kiss me back?
Hell no.
I’m ambushing her, and Rowyn’s not the type to be caught off guard.
But does she kiss me back?
Uh, yeah, she does.
Instantly, fiercely, like she’s been waiting years for this moment, which couldn’t be further from the truth. But holy hell, if I didn’t know we weren’t together, I’d be convinced otherwise.
She breaks away first, lips curving into a slow smile that glitters with mischief. “No worries,” she says smoothly, slipping right into character. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”
That’s Rowyn Perry for you— a testament that she’s fast, fearless, and always three moves ahead—of me, at least. And damn if the only thing my brain wants to focus on is the way she tastes, like sweet wine and lazy Sundays snuggled in bed.
The latter, of course, is not my usual thing.
I smooth a hand down my shirt and pull out the chair beside her, momentarily ignoring the curious stares from around the table as I focus solely on Rowyn. I take my seat and it’s only then that I flash my best apologetic grin to the three couples watching me with intrigue.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
A woman leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you Jaxon Sheffield? From the Bucks?”
The guy beside her gapes at me like I’ve just skated straight out of a highlight reel. “No way,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I answer, sliding an arm casually around Rowyn’s shoulders, giving all my attention to her, wanting everyone to know this is about her, not me. “I’m Jaxon.”
“Rowyn,” the woman squeaks, clutching her drink like it’s her last lifeline. “You didn’t tell us you were dating Jaxon Sheffield.”
“Lumber-Jax,” another woman pipes up, the nickname slipping out in a giggle. The attention makes me shift, heat crawling up the back of my neck. I’ve never loved the spotlight unless it’s on the ice.
Rowyn squeezes my hand and saves me. “Everyone, this is Jaxon. We go way back.”
“Snowberry Falls,” I add quickly. “Small town. Same playground.”
She rattles off introductions, and I nod like I’ll remember the names, though odds are I won’t see any of these people ever again. I do, however, wonder who this guy is who stood her up, and where I might find him.