“Surprised Cam has left you standing.” Carter’s gaze sharpens. “You in love with her?”
My chest tightens, and I feel like I’ve lost the ability to speak. I don’t answer fast enough.
Carter nods like he got what he needed. “Yeah. Okay.”
He pushes off the counter. “Look, I’m not going to give you some motivational speech.”
“Thank God.”
“But.” He points at me. “Don’t you dare use her as an excuse to duck out on your future just because you’re recovering from an injury. You belong out on that field.”
My jaw flexes. “I’m not.”
He raises his eyebrows and heat crawls up my neck. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Carter smirks. “I’ve known you for four years, dude. That’s enough.” He claps my shoulder. “If that call comes, you take it. You hear me?”
I swallow. “And if it means leaving her?”
Carter’s expression softens a fraction. “Then you talk to her. Like an adult. You don’t just disappear.”
My stomach twists.
Carter’s voice goes quieter. “Just don’t make a decision out of fear, Brooks.”
Then he walks back into the living room like he didn’t just rip me open.
—
I find Jaxon in the hallway a few minutes later, away from the noise. Madison is in the living room with Lyla, both of them perched on the arm of the couch like they’re watching a championship game instead of a draft broadcast.
Jaxon’s leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching Madison through the doorway with that same look.
That same unwavering, stupidly tender devotion.
He notices me noticing and smirks. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just…you look like you’re going to propose again.”
His smile softens. “I might.”
I shake my head. “How do you do it?”
Jaxon’s brows lift. “Do what?”
“Look at her like that,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean. “Like she’s…the whole point.”
Jaxon’s expression turns serious, the teasing fading. “Because she is.”
My chest tightens.
He studies me, like he’s clocking the weight behind my question. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I hesitate. Then the truth spills out, because something about Jaxon’s steadiness makes it feel possible.
“Sloane…” I swallow. “She’s not okay. None of us are, but she’s—” I shake my head. “And now there might be a call coming from Chicago.”
Jaxon’s gaze sharpens. “And you don’t know what to do.”
