A twitch at his cheekbone. “And what about you?” His voice came rough. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”
“I knew more than I said.” The words came rough. “Enough to know they were trying to handle it the right way. Avery told you before it hit your phone. That was her choice to make. Be mad at me. Be mad at him. But not at her for owning her part.”
His head dipped. “Don’t tell me you actually trust him with her.”
“I do, and so do you. Don’t play it that way. I know you’re worried because of what happened to her in the past. But she’s not the same person. I trust Jax to protect her, to show up when things aren’t easy. Is it perfect? No. He waited too long to talk to you. But his heart’s aimed right.” I angled closer. “Better Jax than any of the assholes waiting in the wings.”
He flinched. A wave slammed beneath us, the plank under my shoes vibrating.
“I don’t want to watch you bury a real friendship,” I added. “Not when the wrong people are counting on it.”
Silence. Birds shrieked over the waves. Chase’s knuckles flexed like memory still lived in them.
I pulled my phone without breaking my sightline to the water and sent one word.Now.
Footfalls hit the wood behind us, steady and measured. I didn’t turn, but Chase did, his shoulders squaring.
Jax stopped just out of swing range, hands open at his sides—not submissive, just present.
Chase’s stare bore into Jax. “You should’ve come to me first.”
“I know.” Jax’s voice stayed steady. “And I wanted to. That was the plan.”
Chase’s mouth twisted. “That’s all you’ve to say?”
“No.” Jax drew a breath, lips pressing into a hard line. “It’s me owning it. I screwed up. But I’m here now.” He stepped closer. “I’ve had feelings for Avery since middle school. I never acted on my feelings because of our friendship. Because of the team. When Elise had everyone on edge, I kept my distance. It didn’t feel safe to let anything show. So I stayed away. Even when it killed me. Then Avery told me she had feelings, and I couldn’t turn it off. We kissed, once. That’s all.”
Chase’s scowl cut hard. “Stop. That’s my sister.” A shudder crawled through him. “I don’t need the play-by-play.”
“Understood.” Jax gave a tight nod. “I haven’t told her yet because it’s too soon, but I love her. It’s that simple.”
Chase’s glare sharpened. “And you tell me this before you tell her? You think I want to be the first one to know you’re?—”
“I shouldn’t be telling you before her.” Jax’s voice stayed steady. “I know that. But you’re standing here, and I need you to hear it from me. She’s always been the one.”
Chase stared at him, tension carved into his face. Wind flattened his shirt against his chest. He looked from Jax to the water and back. The muscle in his cheek flexed once. Twice. “Don’t hurt her.”
“I won’t.” Jax met Chase’s stare head-on.
Chase dragged a hand over his mouth, eyes burning. “I should hit you again.”
“You can.” Jax didn’t move. “I’ll still be here when you’re done.”
Something shifted. Not forgiveness. But maybe the start of it.
I tipped my head toward the line of light where the horizon sharpened. “You two good enough that I can leave you without needing to pull anyone off?”
Chase snorted under his breath. “Yeah.”
“Then finish it.” I clapped Chase’s shoulder once and stepped back. “We’re a solid team, not a divided one.”
He didn’t argue. That was new.
I passed Jax on my way off the pier and brushed his shoulder with two knuckles. The old touch we threw at each other when wins hurt and losses hurt more.
I stepped back far enough to give them space, close enough to move in if it turned again. Their voices carried in pieces over the wind. I couldn’t make out the words, but their voices sounded low, controlled.
Minutes dragged. The pier creaked under us, gulls screaming at the surf. When I turned back, they were standing closer. Chase’s shoulders had dropped a notch. Jax looked the same, which for him meant steady.
