by Hannah Gray
And when Cole takes his last turn, followed by Ally, she’s thrilled that she beat him. But now, it’s between her and me. Sloane still needs to go, but let’s be real; she’s likely the worst bowler to ever step foot in this alley. She could easily use bumpers, and even that might not be enough. But like I said, she’s sweet. So, if anyone makes fun of her, you bet your butt I’ll defend her.
As I start to stand up, Weston turns my face toward him and grips my chin. “Don’t mess it up now. I might have sucked ass tonight, but I’d get pretty fucking excited if my chick beat Cole’s. He’d probably whine like a little bitch.”
“Dude … I can hear you,” Cole grunts and flicks him off.
I stand, and Weston slaps my butt, making me squeal.
“Go on, babe. Finish her.”
“Um … rude, Weston. I thought we were friends.” Ally’s dark hair spins in her seat as she shoots him a dirty look.
Weston holds his hands up. “Sorry. Don’t cut me.”
“Sleep with one eye open, jerk.”
I take my turn, lining myself up and pulling my arm back to a spot that feels just right. And then … I freaking send that thing off. And when it rolls perfectly down the track … it knocks down every single pin on the first try.
And just like that … I whipped all their asses in bowling.
“Yeah, baby!” I bring my fist down. “Take that, bitches!”
“Whoa, she said bitches.” Ally’s eyes widen. “Well done, Hen. I only really wanted to beat Cole anyway. So … no hard feelings.”
Weston leaps up, spinning me into the air. “That was so hot. I love when you get all competitive and shit. That crazy look fills your eyes. Sexy as hell, baby.”
“I wasn’t that bad.” I pout as he sets me down onto my feet. “And I don’t always need to win.”
He pauses, giving me a look. “Yes, you do. And you’re a sore loser, so I’m pretty happy you won.” He looks thoughtful. “Then again, I could have used it to my advantage if you’d lost. You know, made you feel better.”
“As promised, the lowest score buys dinner. So, let’s go. Pizza’s on me.” Knox points to the door. “I’m fucking staaaving.”
I laugh at his pronunciation of starving. He’s always saying words that are missing the letter R. I guess it’s because he’s from New England.
“It’s not on you,” Sloane says, handing her bowling shoes to the cashier and toeing her Birkenstocks on. “I lost. You didn’t do that bad.”
He kneels in front of her, facing away. Instinctively, she climbs on his back, and he gives her a piggyback ride.
“Babe”—he pats her hand on his shoulder—“if you lose, I lose.”
“Puke,” Ally says, pretending to gag. “Corny as fuck.”
The past few months over the summer, when we met up with them or they drove to Gray to see us, made me really appreciate Weston’s group of friends. And bonus: they all love Layla too. She couldn’t come bowling tonight, but I’m sure I’ll see her real soon.
Weston and I turned into crazy people and got an apartment together. After spending the beginning of the summer together in Gray, we realized we couldn’t stand to be apart. I know some would say to take it slow. To not rush. But honestly, we took it slow our whole lives. We’re done with that. We know what we want, and that’s not living apart or having separate lives.
I’ll continue to swim for Brooks, and he’ll continue to do what he loves—play football. We’ll support each other the way we always did … until we didn’t. To be with someone who shares the same hunger to always improve and to throw every ounce of yourself into a sport—not everyone gets it, and that’s okay. But when I go in for that extra workout, or I spend hours at the pool, or I’m on a special diet … Weston gets it. Because he’s been there, too, and there’s a certain respect because of the fact that, like him, I am an athlete too.
Everything seems to be perfect right now. Dane and Weston have spoken briefly a few times. It wasn’t much, but it’s a start, and that’s all I can hope for. Dane is slowly finding out I was never the girl for him. But a part of me thinks he’s always known that.
So, life is good. It’s nice to have friends. It’s great to not have secrets. And it’s beautiful to love and have that love be reciprocated. I’ve learned when I stop looking at the bad parts, I can see the good ones much clearer. And looking at Weston with his ball cap on and that carefree grin … I see a lot of good.
As we head to the parking lot, Weston pulls me against him. “You up for a road trip tonight? There’s something I need to do.”
I look at him, confused. “Sure. As long as I’m back by six o’clock tomorrow night for practice.”
“I’ll do you one better; I’ll have us back before five thirty because that’s when my practice is.”
“You guys meeting us for pizza?” Cole calls.
“Nah, man. I have to take care of some business. See you tomorrow.”
I have no idea where we’re going. But I also know if I did, it wouldn’t make a difference. I’d go anywhere with him.
Weston
“How do you know he’ll be there?” Henley says, a yawn ripping through her. “He’s probably asleep.”
“It’s the weekend. He’s awake.” I glance at the clock on the dash, seeing it reads almost eleven at night. “And if he’s not, then we’ll just drive back to Brooks.”
A knowing look crosses her face as she looks at me. “Don’t be nervous now that we’re almost there. It’s going to be fine.” She pats my hand. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I grind my back teeth together.
Seeing all of my friends joking with each other earlier tonight while we went bowling made me miss my brother. I don’t want to fight with him anymore. Or ignore him anymore. I just want shit to be the way it used to be. If it ever can be. So, as we were walking out, I brainstormed the idea to jump in the truck and drive the four-plus hours to his campus in Florida and show up at his door, so we could sort our shit out.
The GPS shows we’re only three minutes away. My nerves build, and I’m beginning to wonder if this was a big fucking mistake.
“It’s okay.” Henley’s sweet voice flows through the cab of the truck. “I promise, it’s going to be okay.”
I mindlessly tap my palm on my steering wheel. “I just … fuck. Never mind. It’s dumb.”
“I’m sure it is,” she tosses back. “But tell me anyway.”
“I hate you seeing him. And I hate him seeing you.” I grimace. “I’m jealous as hell, and I can’t even help it.”
“I don’t have to see him,” she assures me. “I’ll stay in the truck.”
I shake my head. “No. I can’t be like this forever. It’s fucking childish and petty.”
“It is.” She nods. “But I get it. And I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable. Because I love you.”
I relax a little. She loves me. Not Dane. Not any other asshole. Me. And that makes me the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
We pull up against the curb in front of the apartment building my mother told me Dane and a few teammates moved into this summer.
Throwing my head back against the seat, I sigh and unbuckle my seat belt. “Guess I’ll get this over with.” I move toward her, and she meets me halfway, pressing her lips to mine. “I think I should do this alone.”
She leans her forehead against mine. “I think that’s best too. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I kiss her once more before pulling away. Pushing the door open, I step down out of the truck.
As I walk toward the front door, my heart beats so loud in my chest that I can hear it in my ears.
Calm down, dumbass. He’s your brother. Why the fuck are you so nervous?
I hover my fist inches over the door, scared to pound my hand against it and do what I came here to do. But I came all this way. I’m tired. Henley’s tired. I need to pull my balls down off the fucking shelf and man up.
Ba
nging my fist to the door, I step back, waiting for my brother or one of his roommates to come out.
Glancing back at Henley, I see her sitting in the cab of the truck. Under the streetlight, I can see her perfectly in there.
She holds up a cheesy thumbs-up, and I can’t help but laugh. But it dies quickly in my throat when the door opens, and a guy I recognize as Dane’s wide receiver looks me up and down.
“Fuck, that’s trippy,” his Southern voice drawls, and he shakes his head. “If I hadn’t just seen your brother in the kitchen, getting a beer, I would have sworn you were Dane.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Bama. Nice to meet you.”
I suspiciously eye his hand before shaking it. “Nice to meet you too, man. Dane busy?”
“Well … a little.” He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “He’s got his lady friend over. But I’m sure he’ll make time for his brother.” He swings the door open wider and motions inside. “Come on in.”
I shift on my feet awkwardly. “Actually, if you don’t mind, could you just send him out?”
He gives me a weird look but then nods. “Sure, I’ll go get him.” He turns but stops, glancing over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, brother.”
I’m still taken aback by the handshake. Cole and Knox know there’s bad blood between Dane and me. If he showed up at our front door one day and they answered, I have no doubt they’d be dicks to him until I told them not to be. My mom told me the guys Dane lives with are his best friends. If this Bama dude is being this nice, that leads me to believe Dane hasn’t told them what a dick I’ve been to him. Or maybe this Bama dude is just nice.
Bama.
What kind of name is Bama anyway?
He disappears back inside the house, and I wait.
After a few minutes, I start to think he either couldn’t pull Dane away from his lady friend or he just doesn’t want to see me.
The door finally opens again, and my brother steps out, closing it behind him. “Weston? What’s, uh … what’s going on? Why are you here?”
“I’ve been bitter for a long time. Bitter that you took something so important to me and ruined everything.” I grind my back teeth together. “Bitter that I missed out on time with Henley. And bitter that for a while, she chose you over me.” This is the first time I’ve actually told my brother how I feel about what happened between him and Henley. It fucking kills like a knife cutting through layers of skin. But if we don’t talk about it, we’ll never get past it. “You and she … you two went through something that I’m not a part of. And in a weird, fucked up way, I’m jealous that you went through it with her. Not because I’d wish that awful experience on myself. But because I hate that I couldn’t be there for her.” I swallow harshly. “And … I hate that you were.”
“I’m sorry,” Dane barely whispers. “I’d give anything to take it all back.” He pauses. “For all of our sakes.”
I lean back against the banister on the porch, stuffing my hands in my pocket. “I know. And I know it wasn’t all your fault. Everything that happened. Why we became enemies.” I shrug. “I played a part too. And Henley. And you. All of us … we all had a hand in it.”
He looks remorseful. “It was my fault. I knew—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “Even though I fucking hate what you did …” I pause, grinding my back teeth together again. “I hate it so much.” I turn toward him. “But growing up, I knew you loved her too. Or … I knew you thought you loved her. But not like me, Dane. You don’t understand what that girl means to me. I’d die for her.”
He nods in understanding. “I know that now. But back then, I did think I loved her. But that doesn’t make what I did right. Because I knew you loved her too.” He looks ashamed. “And I should have never acted on my feelings. She never looked at me that way anyway.”
“What way?” I ask.
“The way she’s looked at you her entire life.” His lips turn up slightly. “You’ve got a girl who loves the shit out of you, man. Let the rest go.” He grimaces. “Even if it means you can’t be around me.”
I glance at the truck again. My eyes lock on Henley. My girl. She chose me. She’s always chosen me. I don’t need to be jealous or self-conscious when it comes to her. She loves me.
I turn away from the truck and step closer to Dane. “That shit doesn’t matter anymore. The past is the past. I miss my brother. I miss my best friend. And Mom and Dad, they can’t stand us being like this. This shit’s gotta end.”
He looks relieved. “Say the word, brother. I’ll never fuck up again.”
I stand there for a moment, not knowing what comes next. Finally, I throw an arm around him and pull him in for a hug. “I’ll probably fuck up again.” I chuckle. “But I won’t take it to the extremes that we did. You have my word.”
I release him and look back at the truck again. Dane follows my eyes and slaps my back.
“She’s a good one. I’d tell you to take care of her … but you’d kick my ass.”
I nod. “Damn straight I would.”
He opens his mouth to say something when the house door flies open, and a familiar red-haired beauty stands there, her eyes widening when she sees me.
Layla.
I look at the truck again and see Henley’s eyes narrowing. And though I can’t read her lips from here, I’m pretty sure she says, What the fuck?
“Welp … this is awkward,” Layla huffs out and points to the truck. “Guess I have some explaining to do,” she says and heads toward the truck’s window.
And I stand there in pure shock.
“So, uh … you and Layla?” I mumble.
He stares at the truck, where it looks like Layla is talking a million miles a minute while Henley listens. Finally, he nods slowly. “Surprise?”
I breathe out a laugh. “Yeah … I’d say so.”
Henley is probably hurt that Layla kept this secret from her. But I can’t see her being mad. She loves her friend too much for that.
I’m just happy that Dane and I could finally come together and call a truce.
And when I say good-bye to my brother, I know everything between us is going to be just fine.
forty
Weston
Two Years Later
It’s late afternoon on a Sunday as we ride through the small town of Gray, Henley’s feet resting on the dashboard of my truck. But this time, I don’t tell her they’re gross. I just enjoy the view of her with a baseball cap pulled over her blonde hair and her aviator sunglasses on. Content with the ice cream she demanded from the dairy bar in town.
Her toned, tanned legs look so hot with her cutoff jean shorts that are frayed at the bottom. As she pops her left leg up and gazes out the window, she looks good enough to eat.
Her parents were out of town this week. So, we’ve had her house to ourselves. And it’s been pretty nice.
I leave next week for Florida to join my new team, the Buccaneers. When I got that phone call back in April, letting me know I was being drafted by them, I just about pissed my pants with excitement. It’s a dream. But it also means I’m leaving Henley while she stays back for her senior year of college. Part of me almost didn’t enter the draft to stay with her instead. But I’m ready to play now. College was just a stepping-stone toward the NFL.
“Where are we going?” she asks before licking her ice cream. A knowing smile appears on her face when she watches me suck in a breath.
My eyes dart to her tongue, and my dick twitches in my shorts. “You keep licking that ice cream like that, and we’ll be going down a side road, so I can shove something else inside your mouth for you to suck,” I threaten her, but it doesn’t seem like much of a threat as I watch her squeeze her thighs together.
A mischievous grin stretches across her face. Sticking her tongue out, she twirls the ice cream, licking it, never taking her eyes off me.
“Keep it up, sweet cheeks.” I adjust myself in my shorts. My suddenly really fucking tight shorts. “There’ll be payb
ack.”
As I pull into our old high school, she finishes her ice cream. Which I’m pretty fucking thankful for because my balls might have actually fallen off if I had to not only watch her, but also listen to her moan with each swipe of her tongue.
“We’re here?” She looks around. “At school? Why?”
I park and open the door, jerking my head toward the football field. “Come on, nosy pants.”
She pushes her door open and comes next to me.
Unable to help myself, I bring my hand up and slap her ass. Making a smacking sound from the force. “That’s for teasing me.”
She squeals, “Sorry. Maybe I was hoping you’d grow a set and do something about it.”
“Oh, I’ll do something about it.” I grip her ass this time. “And we both know I have a set. You had them in your mouth yesterday, sweetheart.”
I open the gate, and we walk onto the field.
She follows me to the center, where I gaze around at what used to be my whole world. Nothing ever seemed as big as game nights in high school. And nothing seemed as important as the green on this field. Besides her.
“I always loved when you came and watched me play.” I lace our hands together, bringing hers up with mine and kissing it. “I think you were my good-luck charm. Knowing you were here, watching, I’d play my heart out.”
“More like you’d show off.” She playfully rolls her eyes. “It’s okay; you can admit it.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I always thought football was the most important thing in my life. I love that it requires discipline, focus, determination, and so much more. When I’m on the field, the world melts away. And nothing else matters.” I slide one hand to her neck and cup the side of her face. “Besides you. The championship game freshman year, the wins when we were apart, the big moments—none of it even seemed to matter when I couldn’t run to you and get the hug you always gave me in high school. Before …”