Page 129 of Only Between Us

Even though I’m here on uncertain terms and not for the entirety of training camp, the past couple of days have been incredible. So good that even seeing McDaniels’s and Naomi’s faces every day hasn’t made a dent in me.

I don’t give a fuck about them.

It’s been everything I ever wanted for myself when I was younger. I’m on the Rebels field, playing better than ever. With my teammates and friends. In my home state. With the girl of my dreams watching in the stands, a smile on her face whenever I look for her.

After the initial scrimmage on day one, we’d been slotted into daily training sessions based on positions. Running drills, conditioning work. Meetings with the owners and coaching team.

Josh’s genius really showed itself here. I caught Leonard Dupont, the majority owner in the Rebels franchise, chatting up Siena in the stands earlier today. No doubt trying to suss out whether I’m still the loose cannon who left the state almost two years ago. He’d worn a satisfied smile when they parted ways.

Siena threw me her signaturenice asswhen she saw me looking, which has somehow become our code forall good.

It’s shocking how different things feel this time around. I haven’t been this excited by the prospect of playing since my earliest years in the league. Never felt such certainty that if everything went to hell for me on the field tomorrow, I’d be just fine. Because I’d have Siena.

After tonight’s team dinner, my portion of training camp wraps up and we’ll be heading to my parents’ place in San Diego tomorrow. Now, Siena is right in the middle of the small crowd of players and partners gathered at the bar in the restaurant the Rebels booked out. She’s chatting with them like they’ve known each other for years, laughing, smiling wide. Checking in with me once in a while with a look over her shoulder.

“You good?” she mouths at me where I sit at the table, content just to watch her charm the guys in that magic way of hers.

“Nice ass,” I mouth back. She laughs into her wineglass.

The wordsI love youare eating away at me. Tormenting me, poisoning me slowly. I’ve had to catch them from the very tip of my tongue so many times in the past few days. I’m not sure why I’m still holding on to them. Maybe I’m waiting for a perfect moment I haven’t yet found.

“I’m sorry,” a soft but familiar voice says at my side. “That must be hard to watch.”

A glance to my right shows Naomi in Siena’s chair. We’ve managed to go four days without exchanging words. I’m not sure what’s inspired her to break the fortunate streak now.

From what Siena’s told me, she’s been putting on some sad puppy act with the other partners, probably designed to get a rise out of Siena. Maybe to set me off, throw me off my game.

Thing is, I feel nothing toward her anymore. Nothing seeing her all week. Nothing hearing her voice now.

I finger the outline of Siena’s anchor charm under my shirt. “Why would that be hard to watch?”

I fix my attention back where it belongs: on Siena, who lines up to take a shot at the bar with a handful of other wives. I love that she’s letting go, enjoying herself, not shying away from getting to know these people. The easily deluded man in me hopes that means she’s warming up to the idea of moving here. Being part of this with me.

“I met Dougy at one of these team dinners.”

Somehow, I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Siena takes the shot like a fucking champ, with barely an after-shudder. She high-fives Cam Guerdy, meets his wife, Monica’s, hip bump. Throws me a saucy wink over her shoulder, even as her gaze lingers to my right, where I assume my ex still sits.

I love you so goddamn hard.

“You know, you looked good out there today, Brooks.”

I lace my fingers behind my head, sinking comfortably in my chair as Kiara Lowndes, a tight end’s wife, throws an arm around Siena, who drops her head onto Kiara shoulder like they’re already best friends. I used to babysit for the Lowndeses back when I lived here. Their daughter, Nicolette, was the cutest little thing. Made me wear a paper crown to match hers whenever I came over. She must be huge now, two years later.

“You’ve looked good all week, actually. I’ve been so impressed.”

Monica calls for another round of shots and I laugh when Siena actually buries her face in her hands at the prospect.

“Are you listening to me?”

I jump when I feel a hand on my arm. For reasons unknown,Naomi is still sitting next to me. She’s looking at me expectantly, and it occurs to me that she must have been speaking the whole time.

I clear my throat. “Sorry, what?”

Red splotches blossom on Naomi’s cheeks. “I was saying you looked good during practice. You know, even with the damage to your knee?” She leans in before whispering, “I was sorry to hear about that, by the way. It must be so hard on you, realizing you’re not where you used to be.”

Naomi’s eyebrows furrow in a move I think is supposed to look sympathetic. Regretfully, I know her better than that. And I know right then, without a shadow of a doubt, who’s been stirring the online rumor mill these past couple of months. It’s exactly her style: kicking me while I’m down to punish me for no longer giving her the life she wanted from me. And then securing her own status and position here in LA at my expense.