My breath catches in my throat as he steps through the doors, his hair, still damp from the shower, pokes beneath a navy-blue baseball cap, and he’s dressed in gray joggers and a fitted blackhenley that clings to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest like Picasso himself painted it on.
His eyes search the crowd until they land on me, and the moment they do, his whole face changes—softens, brightens, steals the air from my chest. Even as teammates clap him on the back and shove him toward the side, his attention stays fixed on me. There’s something in his look this time—less adrenaline, more purpose—that makes my pulse trip over itself.
“Great game,” Charlotte says when he reaches us, giving him a quick hug.
“Thanks,” he says, though his focus never wavers from me. He steps closer, the faint scent of soap and the cologne that’s always beenhiswrapping around me. Then he leans in, his lips brushing my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.
My breath catches. His mouth stays there a heartbeat too long, warmth seeping through my skin and sending a sharp jolt down my spine. When he finally pulls back, there’s something different in his eyes—something darker, hungrier—that sets my pulse racing.
“We’re heading to Chris and Jace’s to celebrate,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “Takeout and beer, nothing crazy. You in?”
I nod, suddenly unable to form words as his gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there with such obvious intent that heat floods my cheeks. “Sounds perfect.”
His fingers brush against mine in a way that seems both casual and deliberate. “Ridewith me?”
I answer with a nod, my heart skipping a beat when his hand finds the small of my back.
The heat of his touch burns through my sweater as he guides me through the crowd, and all I can do is focus on that one point of contact, that singular touch.
Something about tonight is different.
Maybe it’s the charge in the air or the way our gazes keep colliding as we walk, but my pulse thrums with the certainty of it—the quiet, electric kind that settles deep in your bones.
Whatever this is between us, something tells me it’s been building for a lot longer than I realize, waiting for the right spark.
His hand finds mine, anchoring me in the middle of the noise and light, and I know without a doubt—tonight is the night.
Chapter 30
BRANDON
Empty Chinese food containers litter the countertop of Chris and Jace’s apartment, evidence of our postgame celebration. The apartment is crowded with teammates and friends, everyone still riding the high of today’s win, but I’ve barely registered anyone else’s presence since we arrived.
I lean against the kitchen counter, nursing the same beer I’ve had for the past hour, more out of habit than thirst. I need a clear head tonight.
The adrenaline from the game still thrums through me, but it’s shifted—transformed into something quieter, sharper—as I watch Tatum tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her blue-violet eyes catch the light when she laughs at something her friends say, the sound cutting through the music and chatter like it’s meant for me alone.
Her head tips back, exposing the graceful line of her throat, and I swear the air in the room changes.
Maybe she feels it too, because her laughter falters. She glances up, her gaze snagging on mine across the room. A faint flush creeps up her neck, and when she gives me that small, private smile, my heart slams hard enough to drown out the noise around us.
All week I’ve been patient, making her wait, building the anticipation with lingering touches and heated glances. I wanted her to crave this as desperately as I do, to think about nothing else the way I’ve thought about nothing but her for years. But watching her now, the soft curve of her lips, the way her sweater slips off one shoulder revealing creamy, smooth skin I’m desperate to taste—I know I can’t hold out any longer.
Damon snorts beside me, taking the untouched beer from my hands. “Just get on with it already, will you? The tension between you two is making everyone uncomfortable.”
I cut him with a glare, but he’s already gone, turning toward his girlfriend Avery, and leaving me alone with my thoughts.
What the hell am I waiting for?
If I’m being honest, maybe delaying the inevitable isn’t just because I want her to anticipate it. The truth is, I’m so damn afraid that once she gets what she wants, and it’s over, she’ll walk away.
With a grunt, I push off the counter and cross the room, our eyes locked on each other the entire time.
“Coming to steal me away?” she teases, and I grin.
“Something like that.”
I hold out my hand, and she doesn’t hesitate before slipping hers into mine. The second our fingers touch, something shifts. I lead her toward the kitchen, away from the noise and the crowd, needing just a minute where it’s only us.
