Dylan
I check my watch for what must be the fifteenth time in five minutes. 10:17 P.M. The party’s been going for over an hour, and still no sign of Cheyenne. My stomach feels like I’ve swallowed a puck—heavy, cold, and completely foreign to my body. I should be appreciating the view of the city skyline spread out before us, buildings lit up against the dark December sky. But all I can focus on is the entrance and the constant stream of people who aren’t her.
“Dude, checking your watch won’t make Cheyenne appear faster,” Blaze says, nudging my shoulder with his. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
“I’m fine.” The words come out tighter than I intended, betraying exactly how not-fine I am.
“Sure you are.” Addy gives me a knowing smile. “That’s why you’ve been standing in the same spot for twenty minutes, staring at the door like you’re expecting the ghost of Christmas past.”
I tear my eyes away from the entrance, forcing myself to focus on the conversation with Blaze and his wife. “Sorry. I’m being rude.”
“You’re being obvious,” Blaze corrects, taking a sip of his beer. “But it’s kind of nice, actually. Never seen you this worked up over a woman before.”
“I’m not worked up,” I protest, but even I don’t believe it.
Addy raises an eyebrow. “You’ve checked your watch at least ten times since we started talking. And you haven’t even noticed that Kade’s been trying to get your attention from across the roof for the last few minutes.”
I glance over to where Kade is indeed waving at me, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. I give him a half-hearted wave before my eyes inevitably drift to the entrance again.
“She’s coming, right? Genna said she’s definitely coming?” I hate the uncertainty in my voice, the naked vulnerability of the question. This isn’t me. I don’t get nervous about women. I don’t stand around parties looking like a lost puppy, waiting for someone to show up.
Except, apparently, I do now.
“Yes, she’s coming,” Addy assures me. “Genna texted me twenty minutes ago. They were just running late.”
My hand automatically goes to my pocket. I embrace the small silver dog charm nestled there. I’ve carried it with me since Christmas, waiting for the right moment to return it to Cheyenne. To explain. To apologize for being such an idiot. The charm feels warm from being in my pocket all night, a tiny talisman of all the things I should have said but didn’t.
“You still have time to fix this,” Blaze says, his voice gentler than usual. “One stupid comment doesn’t erase everything else. Just be honest with her.”
“Right.” I nod, running my free hand through my already disheveled hair. “Honest. I can do that.”
But can I? When have I ever been truly honest with a woman? With myself? My entire dating life has been a carefully choreographed dance of charm and calculated distance. I’m good at the game—the pursuit, the conquest, the graceful exit before things get too real. But this isn’t a game, and Cheyenne isn’t a conquest.
She’s ... everything.
The realization hits me again, just as overwhelming as it was in the gym when I finally admitted it to myself. I’m falling in love with her. Not just attracted. Not just interested. Not just curious. In love. The kind that makes my chest hurt when I think about her with someone else. The kind that has me standingon this freezing rooftop, checking my watch every thirty seconds instead of working the room like I usually would at these parties.
“Oh, there’s Genna!” Addy points toward the entrance, and my head snaps up so fast I nearly give myself whiplash.
Sure enough, my sister is stepping onto the rooftop, her bright red coat visible even from across the crowded space. Paul is beside her, his arm linked through hers, looking at her like she hung the moon. It’s still weird seeing my teammate with my sister, but they’re so obviously happy together that I can’t even pretend to be the overprotective brother.
But where’s Cheyenne? My eyes scan frantically around Genna, looking for the familiar dark hair, the warm smile, the comfortable jeans and sweater that Chey usually wears to events.
And then I see her.
She steps onto the rooftop behind Genna, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
This is not the Cheyenne I expected. This is not comfortable jeans and a cute sweater. This is...
My. Goodness.
She’s wearing a dress that looks like it was painted on her body—black with pink sequins that catch the light with every movement, creating a trail of fire as she walks. It’s short, showing off legs I didn’t even know she had. Her dark hair falls inloose waves around her shoulders, styled in a way I’ve never seen before. She looks confident. Powerful. Breathtaking.
“Close your mouth before you catch flies,” Addy murmurs, amusement clear in her voice.
I snap my jaw shut, not even realizing it had been hanging open. I can’t take my eyes off Cheyenne as she follows Genna into the party, greeting people with a smile that seems more confident than I’ve ever seen on her.
And she’s alone. No plus-one. No Garrett hovering at her side. The relief that floods through me is embarrassing in its intensity, but I don’t care. She didn’t go back to him. At least, not tonight.
