Eva: Don’t worry about it. I figured he would be there. Enjoy your twin time.
I stare at the text, my fingers tightening on the edges while I decide what I want to say. I’d really love to FaceTime with her. See her face. But I can’t.
Aston: Get some rest.
Aston: Sorry about Ace. I didn’t know he was coming.
Eva: Don’t worry about it. He said it was a surprise for you. He’s the same ol’ flirty Ace. I got a text from him asking to take me out.
Eva: Should we tell him about us?
I don’t really know what to say so I keep my reply short.
Aston: I can’t really talk about it now, but I’ll give you a call tomorrow.
I slide the phone back into my pocket just as Ace walks back into the room, handing me a fresh beer.
“Here you go. This is my last one, and then I’m gonna crash.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been quiet since I’ve been here, and you’ve been acting weird lately.”
“Nothin’ wrong. I’m just tired.” I shrug. “Trying to stay focused to see if we can make the playoff run in the postseason.”
“I heard that. Season’s winding down, and then we’ll see where we’re all at in the next few months.” He sits back on the couch, stretching his arm out along the back.
We finish our beers, and Ace heads upstairs, his footsteps heavy on the staircase. I stand and walk over to the windows. I really am glad to see him. But beneath the surface, I keep going back to Ace telling me he thinks something might still be there between him and Eva.
A cold, hard, territorial instinct tightens in my chest. Ace is my twin, and I love him. But he’s standing in the wrong room. He thinks he can just walk back into her life because they have history. Because he thinks her story belongs to him.
But he doesn’t know the way she looks at me when the lights are low. He doesn’t know the way her hands feel tangled in my shirt, or the way she breathesmyname againstmymouth until we both lose control. Or the way I’m falling for her.
Yeah, I’m not gonna let this happen. I’m not going to step back—again—and let him take a shot at the only real thing I’ve ever had. This time, taking my chance with her won’t be a college memory. She’s mine.
I lean my forehead against the cold glass, my breath pluming against the pane in the dark. The guilt is eating me alive and will, at some point, demand that I pay the price. I just need to find the right time. But until then, nobody—including my twin brother—is taking her away from me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ASTON
The facility weightroom smells just like the locker room in my high school back in Texas and just like the weight room at Walker University—stale sweat and the sharp chemical smell of chalk dust. It’s early in the morning the next day, and the building is pretty quiet. Some execs and coaches come in, but most of my teammates are taking the day to recoup.
My head has been spinning since my brother’s surprise visit.
Instead of hanging around to see if Eva would accept his offer for a date, he left before the sun came up. He had to get back to Florida for a mandatory team meeting that sounded like some drama had been stirred up over the weekend.
His voice has been echoing in my head, a slow, rolling thunder that’s making my blood run hot and heavy in my veins. I load another forty-five-pound plate onto the hex bar, the metal clanking with a snap. My ribs are still bruised from the LA game, and my knees could use a break, but I don’t give a shit. I need the weight. I need the physical resistance to quiet the territorial edge that has been tightening inside my chest since I noticed Ace talking to Eva on the sideline.
I step inside the bar, drop my hips, and lock my hands onto the steel bar. I pull, my teeth grinding together as two hundred fifty pounds lifts off the rubber mat, the muscles in my back tearing and rebuilding under the strain.
Mine. Not his. Mine.
I set the bar down with a heavy, controlled thud against the rubber mats, my chest heaving under my grey sleeveless shirt. I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and turn to grab my water bottle, but I don’t see it. I must have left it on the indoor practice field. Might as well call it a day and grab my water bottle, then hit the shower. So I turn toward the glass doors that lead to the indoor practice field and make my way down the hall.
When I push the doors open, I see Eva, her crew, and Liam.
The field is bathed in the harsh glow of overhead production lights. Eva is standing a few feet away from where Sam and Liam are seated, a clipboard in one hand and her headset pressed against her ear.
