“We’ll make plans for the ashes,” he says.
I nod. “We will.”
At the door, he hesitates, then steps closer. His hand comes up, warm and careful, and he presses a kiss to my cheek. It lingers, longer than it should. His breath brushing my skin as he pulls back.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. “For being here.”
The door closes behind him, leaving my apartment impossibly quiet.
I stand there for a long moment, heart racing, knowing just how close I came to inviting him into my bedroom.
And knowing, without a doubt, that this is only the beginning.
TEN
Wild
The stadium is still buzzing when we hit the tunnel. Music blasting, guys shouting over each other, adrenaline hanging thick in the air. Another win. Another reason to celebrate. Gloves get tossed, backs slapped, someone’s already talking about shots and VIP booths like it’s a foregone conclusion.
It should feel enough.
It usually does.
But all I can think about is Amelia.
She’s been lodged in my head since the night I walked out of her apartment, since the feel of her presence lingered long after her door shut behind me. There’s so much more to her than what she lets the world see. Layers she keeps locked down tight, just like I do.
She knows what it’s like to want to be seen as yourself instead of a name, a role, a reputation.
That alone makes her dangerous.
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone the way I want to kiss her. Not sloppy. Not rushed. Slow. Intentional. Like it would mean something.
I went home that night wired and restless, the memory of her voice, her eyes, the way the air shifted between us following me into the shower. I didn’t picture anyone else. Didn’t need to. Just her. Just the idea of what I wasn’t allowed to have, but wanted so badly. I jerked off picturing her as the water pounded down on me. Her body, her sounds, her taste made the fantasy all that much hotter.
And that scared the hell out of me.
“Yo,” Kamden says, clapping a hand on my shoulder as we peel off our jerseys. “You ready to hit the bar tonight?”
For half a second, I swear he can see straight through me. Straight through the thoughts I shouldn’t be having about his sister.
I lock it all down.
The grin.
The swagger.
The mask.
“Damn right,” I say, easy and confident.
The guys cheer, already moving toward the showers.
But even as I laugh and play my part, one truth settles deep in my chest.
No matter how loud the night gets, Amelia Bronwyn is still the only thing I won’t be able to forget.
The bar is chaos.
