“What was I right about?” he asked.
I leaned into him, planting a kiss to his chin. “I really did meet my match.”
The laugh that barreled out of him was my favorite sound in the world.
And he was my favorite person.
The End
We Ride At Dusk
Jaxson
She blew back into my life not like a storm, but like the sun — hidden behind a dark cloud but still shining all the same.
There wasn’t a day that had passed where I hadn’t thought about Grace Tanev, about the night I spent with her. It was just a party bus and a rowdy night out with the team celebrating Vince winning the Calder Trophy, and yet, it had been like an awakening.
My whole life, I’d been waking in a fog, in a dense and heavy cloud that I thought would stay with me forever.
But one night with her had brought in the sun.
Of course, I’d spent the better half of the last two weeks doing my level best to erase her and that night from my mind. Because it didn’t matter how easily the conversation came, how heartily she’d made me laugh, or how my body had hummed to life with her hips in my hands as we danced in a crowded club.
Grace was off limits.
Not only was she already in a relationship, but she was also eight years younger than me.
She was also my teammate’s little sister.
That was a hurdle not even I could jump.
I’d done a somewhat decent job of letting the idea of her go. I had resisted the urge to look her up on social media, had ignored the fact that she’d given me her number, that she’d put it in my phone before we said our goodbye.
Because that was exactly what it was — a goodbye.
Until it wasn’t.
“You really want to lose your money that badly?” Vince asked Carter with a whistle, shaking his head. We were at his new place on the beach, half of it still littered with boxes, waiting for Will to show up so we could hit our tee time. “You know my game puts yours to shame.”
“I’ve been practicing. Besides, you’ve been so busy crawling up Maven’s ass, my bet is you’ll be too distracted to play.”
“Hey, leave my ass out of this,” Maven called from the kitchen where she was organizing glassware in the cabinets.
“But it’s the best one I’ve ever seen,” Carter said with a pout, which earned him a slug on the arm from Vince.
“Gotta say I agree on that one,” I piped in, ducking before Vince had the chance to pull me into a chokehold. “I still dream about that yellow dress…”
Vince shoved Carter out of the way and started chasing me, and I dodged the coffee table and hopped over the couch, staying just out of reach. Carter started humming the Benny Hill theme song, clapping his thighs in time with the bazooka sounds he was making with his mouth like we were Tom & Jerry.
I was sliding on my socks around the kitchen island, half-hiding behind a laughing, red-faced Maven, when a figure appeared in the foyer. I thought it was Daddy P at first, so I kept up the charade. But when a suitcase was dropped to the marble floor and a soft cry followed behind it, we all stopped, our heads snapping in that direction.
And there she was.
Staring right at me.
Those green eyes I’d fallen so easily into that night in Austin were glossy and red, her button-nose the same rosy shade. The bags under her eyes were a terrible shade of purple and gray, her shoulders slumped, bottom lip trembling the longer she stood there without anyone saying a word. She was petite, even in heels, but standing there in flip flops, she was so slight, so small, like a little mouse.
Her long, straight blonde hair that had blurred my vision the night I twirled her around on the dance floor in Austin was a tangled mess, dirty and greasy and dull. She’d covered it with a ripped-up ball cap that said Asshole on it.
But even with her lips in a flat line, I could remember her smile.
I could remember her laugh, her ridiculous dance moves, her even more ridiculous questions.
I remembered everything.
As put out as she looked, her bronze skin still blazed against the white t-shirt she wore, against the tiny jean shorts she paired it with, like she had been at the beach for weeks. Her shirt had a cartoon of an opossum wielding a gun like a cowboy, and the text under it said we ride at dusk.
I would have laughed, if the sight of her didn’t make my chest spark with something possessive and feral.
She looked like hell, like she’d been through hell, and yet she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Before I could think better of it, I started toward her — at the very same time Vince did. He gave me a strange look before I stopped in my tracks and he continued on, rushing to his sister and wrapping her in a fierce hug.
Maven turned back to unpacking, giving them privacy, and Carter pretended to be on his phone.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t look away.
Vince pulled back after a moment, holding Grace’s shoulders in his hands as he spoke in a hushed voice to her. She said something back, and then Vince hugged her again, and grabbed her suitcase. They walked down the hall and up the stairs, and when they were gone, Maven blew out a breath.
“That didn’t look good,” she said.
Carter’s mouth pulled to the side as he looked up the stairs and then back at me. His eyes narrowed a bit then, but before he could say a word, Vince was back, running a hand over his head.
“She okay?” Maven asked.
“No,” he said. “But she will be. I told her she could stay here with us.”
“Of course,” Maven said, rounding the kitchen island until she was slipping her arms around Vince’s waist. “For as long as she needs.”
Vince nodded, blowing out a breath and kissing Maven’s forehead. He seemed to relax with her embracing him, but my muscles were coiled tight.
Carter tried to lighten the mood with a joke, and then Will walked in, breaking the tension of the moment as he grumped about it being too hot to play golf. I mumbled something about needing to use the bathroom before we left, excusing myself down the hall.
Then, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, and I made my way up the stairs two at a time.
Vince’s new place was massive, with so many rooms I wasn’t sure which one he would have put Grace in. But I heard her sniffling through a cracked door toward the middle, and I paused just outside it, rapping my knuckles lightly on the wood.
“Come in,” she said softly, pathetically, her voice hoarse.
I pushed the door open just enough to see her, for her to see me, and then we both froze.
I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe it was for her to tell me to fuck off and leave her alone, because when she lit up with a smile, it twisted my gut — like I didn’t deserve that, like it was dangerous for me to want every smile she ever had to give. Her cheeks lifted, eyes crinkling, and two more tears slid down in perfect unison, like the smile had set them free.
“Hey,” she said, and it was just one word, just a greeting. But that smile, the way she watched me, it made me feel like I had the power to make everything okay.
“Who do I have to kill?”
She choked on something between a sob and a laugh, wiping her nose with a bunched-up tissue in her hands. She swiped the tears away next. “He’s not worth the jail time.”