Second Dive: A Second Chance Sports Romance (Kings Of The Water Book 3) Read online

  SECOND DIVE

  Copyright © 2020 by Jasmin Miller

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without the prior written consent of the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  * * *

  This book is a piece of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, things, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Published: Jasmin Miller 2020

  [email protected]

  www.jasminmiller.com

  Editing: Marion Archer, Making Manuscripts

  Proofreading: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading

  Cover Art: Najla Qamber, Qamber Designs & Media

  Contents

  Second Dive

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Baking With A Rockstar Excerpt

  Also by Jasmin Miller

  Keep in touch

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Second Dive

  Noah Winters was my heart’s desire, the boy I loved desperately and had hoped to spend my future with. Until our plans were derailed and life took us in completely different directions.

  * * *

  When our fate changed, and our paths crossed again, nothing prepared me for the punch to the heart when I saw him . . . or his anger and bitterness.

  * * *

  He was no longer the boy I once knew, but a hardened Olympic swimmer with life goals that no longer aligned with mine.

  * * *

  All because I lied.

  * * *

  But sometimes, hiding the truth was necessary, especially when it freed someone you loved to reach their aspirations and dreams.

  * * *

  It’s said that time heals all wounds, but what I found was that it can also create an enemy.

  * * *

  That meant I had a choice.

  * * *

  Apologize to Noah, and possibly let him into my heart again . . . or allow him to live his life without knowing why I walked away. Without knowing that I never actually wanted to leave.

  *This book contains health issue and baby loss mentions*

  To second chances.

  For giving them, for getting them, for taking them.

  One

  Chloe

  “Are you really sure this isn’t some twisted Fifty Shades party? First the masks, now this?” I hold up the small wooden paddle and wiggle my eyebrows, slapping it lightly on my palm for emphasis.

  Eadie shakes her head and laughs, her black hair flowing around her cheeks in soft waves. “Man, I’m so glad you’re back. I missed having you around.”

  I grin at her. “Same. It’s great to be back. And weird, and nerve-wracking . . . but mostly great.”

  Eadie leans closer and bumps my shoulder, while my gaze slips to the stunning skyline in the distance. The yellow-, orange-, and red-peppered sky illuminates San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge in a way that almost makes it look surreal.

  She holds up her paddle and spins it around, using it as an extension for her wild gestures. “My curiosity is going to eat me alive soon. I can’t believe they aren’t telling us what kind of auction they’re holding tonight.” She pauses for a moment and studies the object. “Maybe you’re right and there’ll be some kinky stuff going down. I mean, what better place than a masquerade ball where you can barely tell who’s who?”

  We both chuckle at the possibility of anything crazy happening.

  I turn around and lean on the balcony, gazing through the large bay windows inside the ballroom, mesmerized by the sparkling chandeliers.

  Everything is stunning with expensive-looking red velvet curtains and a shiny wooden floor, exactly as you’d expect from one of Berkeley’s finest luxury hotels. And of course, we can’t forget about the attendees, who are mainly decked out in suits and exquisite dresses.

  This isn’t quite my normal circle but it’s all for a good cause, the children’s hospital. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.

  Eadie turns and mimics my stance, leaning closer so we won’t be overheard. “Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

  My whole body stiffens at her question, and I turn my wide eyes on her. “Do you think he’ll be here tonight? I didn’t even think about that possibility. I mean . . . he is like a local celebrity. Crap.”

  I blow out a breath, my stomach queasy at the prospect of seeing the ghost from my past. The person that was partially the reason I moved back to Northern California. Am I ready to see him yet though?

  “Sorry for bringing it up. I have no idea if any big names are supposed to be here tonight.”

  I shrug, opting for the nonchalant route. “It’s okay, I should have thought about it too. You threw this gorgeous lace mask at me and told me what tonight was for, and I was game.”

  “I think we should be safe with our disguises.” She moves her head left and right, bringing her hand under her chin like she’s modeling her feather mask.

  “Not sure I’m in disguise but you sure are. Yours is huge, practically covering half of your head.”

  A snicker sounds from somewhere inside, drifting through the open door.

  Eadie glances in the direction for a moment before she shrugs. “Anyway, let’s forget about it. Nothing can overshadow the fact that you’re here with me tonight.”

  “You’re right. I’m so glad you invited me.”

  A waiter steps out, balancing a tray of drinks on one hand. Impressive. I’d probably tip over the whole thing in two seconds. Graceful has never been my strong suit.

  Eadie grabs a glass of champagne while I opt for the orange juice. She lifts her glass and clinks it with mine. “There’s no better plus-one than you, Chloe. Not in middle school, high school, or beyond. Well . . .” She purses her lips. “Except maybe Jordan Brewer in sophomore year. He was wicked good with his tongue.”

  I laugh and give her butt a soft tap with my paddle. “You’re so bad.”

  She tilts her head. “Well, it’s not like you weren’t busy with you-know-who.”

  The groan escapes my lips louder than intended, and I look around to make sure no one heard me. Even though I probably won’t ever see most of these people again, embarrassing myself during my first week back in town is still not on my to-do list.

  “I know you’re nervous to see him, but you shouldn’t be.
Whether that’s tonight, or another time.” She’s lowered her voice and I’m grateful. “It’s been ten years since high school, he can’t possibly still hold a grudge, right? I’m sure things will be fine once you guys get to talk.”

  My mouth opens but a commotion at the door steals my attention. A group of guys stumbles onto the balcony, laughing.

  They pass us and head to the other side. All but one of them.

  He’s dressed in a navy-blue suit and a silver mask. From the way he’s wavering on his feet, he’s looked a little too deep into his glass tonight. His gaze roams over Eadie first and then me, not even attempting to hide the hungry look in his eyes.

  Gross.

  It’s almost impossible to make out any of his features in the dim lighting. His eyes could be purple, and I wouldn’t know. All I see is short, dark hair and a normal-looking jawline.

  The smile he gives us is probably supposed to be charming and seductive, but it only looks smarmy, especially when a wave of alcohol hits my nostrils. “Well, hello there, ladies.”

  Eadie and I share a look before she nods at him. “Hi and bye.”

  Without another word, we make our way past him and back inside.

  Eadie pulls me to the side. “Total douche alert.”

  “Agreed. No one needs a drunken idiot.”

  She goes up on her toes, her eyes settling on something behind me, and I follow her gaze to the stage. “It doesn’t look like anything will happen soon, so I’m going for a quick bathroom break.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll wait right here.”

  I take out my phone to check my emails while she’s gone. Might as well see if there’s any news from my agent. Less than a minute later, someone clears his throat, and my head snaps up. Ugh. Douchey guy is back. Right in front of me. Damn it. I should have paid better attention.

  Manners kick in—as well as a hint of annoyance—and I look him straight in the eye. “Can I help you?”

  Apparently, he takes that as an invitation and steps closer, and I immediately take a step back. “Oh baby, I’m sure you can help me. Especially with those pretty lips of yours.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and refrain from crossing my arms over my chest. The neckline of my dress covers me up to my neck, but there’s no need to invite his gaze to stray to my breasts in any way. “Wow.”

  “What do you think about you and me getting out of here?”

  That guy. “No.”

  “Or we could sneak into a dark corner somewhere.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.” He lifts his hand toward me, and I tense.

  If he’s going to grab me, I will punch him in the face. Or kick him in the balls. I have no patience for anyone who thinks no means yes, even less so when they’re about to manhandle me.

  But his hand never makes it anywhere near my body. Instead, someone grabs his wrist and pulls him away from me. Another man. The two have a quiet conversation where douchey dude nods vehemently before ducking his head and turning around to briskly walk across the room toward the exit.

  My defender turns my way, and I get my first good look at him. His black suit must be tailored because it hugs his tall frame like a glove, accentuating his body shape of broad shoulders and narrow waist in a way that’s almost . . . sensual.

  "I wasn't too late, was I?" He leans closer while still keeping an appropriate distance.

  His face is covered by a smooth black mask from his nose to his hairline, not allowing me to catch a real glance of his face. Besides his lips, which are definitely noteworthy. And his voice . . . it’s deep and smooth, setting off a little alarm in the back of my head. It’s familiar, yet not.

  Stop staring and say something.

  "No, nothing happened. Thank you." While I could have handled myself just fine, I still appreciate that Handsome Suit stepped in instead of looking the other way.

  He nods, putting his hands in his pockets before taking one out again and extending it my way. "It was nothing. By the way, I'm–"

  "Attention, everyone." The host’s voice booms from the stage, making most conversations stop immediately. “Would the participants of tonight’s auction please join me by the stage?”

  A woman in a stunning red gown and a silver mask appears out of nowhere, grabbing his arm and pulling. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk. Right now. It’s urgent.”

  He turns toward her. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  “Yes. I’ll explain.”

  He huffs out a frustrated breath and nods at her.

  Then his gaze collides with mine, and my breath catches in my lungs at the intensity. “I’m so sorry. Maybe we . . .” He shakes his head. “Never mind. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  His gaze holds mine for another heated moment, and this time, my body reacts. It’s buzzing, like someone just coated my whole skin with a light sheen of electricity.

  How the hell is that possible from one glance? Who is he?

  The woman gives me one more look, her eyes wide, before she grimaces and mouths “Sorry.” Then they spin around and leave, pulling and tugging at each other’s arms as they disappear into the crowd.

  Oookay.

  Welcome home, Chloe.

  From douchebag, to saved by a stranger, to lover’s quarrel?

  All in less than ten minutes.

  “What did I miss?” Eadie stops beside me, a fresh glass of champagne in her hand and a gorgeous smile on her face.

  My mouth opens and closes as I try to find the right words.

  I’m not sure what she sees on my face—the little she can see—but her expression falters in response. “Hey, is everything okay?”

  I nod as I try to make sense of my body’s reaction to this stranger. There was a definite sense of familiarity. Which is bizarre. The only person I’ve ever felt this with is . . . No, that’s impossible.

  Wouldn’t I have recognized his voice?

  Not if it’s been ten years since you last heard it.

  My mind is spinning when the host steps onto the small stage on the side of the room.

  He used to be a popular TV host and is still handsome with silver hair and a charming smile. “Who’s ready for our auction?”

  Eadie leans in. “Ooooh finally.”

  The host walks to the other side of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our bachelor auction.”

  I snort. Thankfully, the applause covers that up.

  “You brought me to a bachelor auction? Eadie . . .” I moan. My best friend shrugs.

  “You know I had no clue either.” She smiles. “But what better way to welcome you home than with some eye candy to enjoy?”

  I chuckle. She has a point. Why not be here? “And free drinks. Let’s not forget about those.”

  “There you go. Here’s to a fun night of hot bachelors.” She holds her glass up for a toast.

  With a shrug, I tap mine against hers. “And watching women trying to outbid each other.”

  Especially knowing I won’t be one of them.

  Two

  Noah

  I have no one but myself to blame for this shitshow. I should have known better and listened to my gut when I thought my sister, Daisy, was up to something.

  Instead, I kept quiet and now I have to look into her pleading doe eyes.

  "Please don't be mad. It’ll be good for you . . . and fun."

  I close my eyes and count to three. She's just gone through a divorce. She's bound to be emotionally unstable. She's a single mom of two boys.

  I . . . cannot . . . kill . . . her.

  Damn it, I still have the urge to, because I don't want to participate in this fucking bachelor auction she signed me up for without telling me. But if I back out now, I’ll look like a total ass. So, to go back to our mom’s favorite childhood mantra: It is what it is, and we’ll make the best of it.

  Or suck it up and eat that fucking lemon with a smile on your face as Daisy and I liked to call it as we
got older. Only behind our mom’s back, of course.

  Fucking hell.

  The proceeds go to the children’s hospital. The proceeds go to the children’s hospital.

  I close my eyes and repeat it a few more times.

  Shooting the reason for my current misery a narrowed look, I straighten my suit jacket. "We'll talk about this later."

  "Sure thing." She stands taller, tilting her chin at me defiantly, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling like I want to.

  Despite everything going on in her life, and all the necessary adjustments, she's still got a backbone made of steel. Sometimes I have to remind myself that she's four years older than my twenty-nine and that she can take care of herself. I doubt the need to help her, in whatever way I can, will ever fade. Younger brother or not. We’ve always been a great team.

  Someone walks up behind me and claps me on the shoulder. When I turn my head, I’m faced with a cocky grin I’d recognize anywhere.

  Hunter Kinney, my Olympic swim teammate and one of my best friends—along with Ryan and Jace—winks at me. "Hey, dude. I didn't know you’re going to participate too."