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MASON

SEEING ANYA APPEAR ON my doorstep was like seeing a ghost from my past. A ghost who has grown into the woman of my dreams. I can’t get the image off my mind – her white t-shirt plastered to her body like a second skin, practically see-through from the rain. When my eyes stayed trained on her ass the entire thirteen stairs it took to get to the top floor, I had to chant: she’s Zay’s little sister, she’s Zay’s little sister, she’s Zay’s little sister.

But damn , Blush isn’t a kid anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time. I know that better than anyone.

I blink back at my reflection, wondering what it must be like for her seeing me after all this time. After what happened. My hands shake as I grip the sink and grapple to even out my breathing. After taking a moment to steady my racing pulse, I head back into the kitchen, tapping my fingers against my legs.

My stomach tenses as I see her, and the feelings of guilt invade me. Thinking about what I did makes me sick to my stomach. My heart drums unevenly in my chest as I brush past her, reaching for the sauce bottles that Zayden has left out, our arms briefly touching. I retract my arm and move away from her, back to the safety of the cupboard.

Anya and I always had an intense relationship. I loved to tease her; she made it so easy. And she loved me. Whole-heartedly. I loved her too, but I was too much of a coward to commit to her. To be the person she needed. She is two years younger than me. An age difference that means nothing now, but seemed a much bigger deal when we were growing up.

Regret swirls in my gut. I was never one to feel much towards anyone: Zayden and Anya meant the world to me, but everyone else was simply background noise. After all the drama, I could never stay in one place long enough to settle down with anyone. But maybe that’s the whole point. The one person I wanted is the one person I can’t have. No one else compares in my mind, so I never bothered trying after that. Whenever I had a partner in the past they knew, or at least suspected, my feelings towards Anya. It’s always been a problem.

She sits across from me, her pretty emerald eyes gazing out the window. Her long dark hair spills down her shoulders in thick waves. Anya was always a bubbly, chirpy girl. But not anymore. Her eyes are darkened with a pain I know all too well: heartbreak. That shit hurts, and the bastard very much overstays its welcome.

Dylan Peterson. He is the definition of a douchebag. I never really liked him, and I liked him a whole lot less when he started hunting after Anya. Zayden had a very strict ‘hands off’ policy when it came to friends dating his baby sister, which many guys at school learnt the hard way. Since Dylan is two years younger than us and not in the friend group, he got away with upgrading from ‘friend’ to ‘boyfriend’ status, much to everyone’s displeasure. Mine the most. We weren’t around in Anya’s final years of school to safekeep her either, so he slid straight in.

No one was good enough for Anya. No one ever would be.

Seeing her crying tonight made the rage uncoil inside me and threaten to detonate any moment. In the past, I wouldn’t need much of an excuse to split my knuckles across Dylan’s face. I used to struggle with my control issues when it came to that kind of thing, but I’ve worked really hard on breaking the cycle.

I’m not my father.

Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to never see or hear about Dylan again, but unfortunately since he plays on one of our rival’s teams, we often see him or verse him in a game. He’s as dirty a player as he is a person. If I want to get him where it hurts, I need to beat him on the field, where it really matters.

Bliss Bay, the small coastal town we all grew up in has a competitive football team: the South West Stingrays. They’re known for being aggressive and often not doing the right thing. They’re not a team I would be comfortable playing on. When I came back from Mexico, I joined Zayden at Stratton University. The reason Zayden moved an hour north, closer to the city, was to play for their team: the North East Sharks. It’s a tough team to get into, and I’m honoured I made the cut. It’s been incredible training with them, they’re a great team and I have a lot of respect for our coach. He has a brilliant record and with the way he has been running our training, I can see why that is. He works his team hard, but he gets results.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?’ I ask her, leaning my hip against the counter. I twist the end of my rubber bracelet, needing something to occupy my hands now that everything has been packed away. When I feel the end unravel, I quickly let go of it, and reach for my mug. Anya’s gaze is on the bracelet. Swallowing, I look away, trying not to think about the day she gave it to me.

Moisture gathers in her eyes once more and my grip around the mug tightens.

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ she answers softly. ‘I’m really tired.’

I point a finger in her direction. ‘I’m holding you to that.’

When she drains the remaining liquid in her cup, I lean over, taking it from her. Our fingers brush and I jolt in surprise at the coldness of hers. I glare at the sink, unable to meet her eyes as I wash and dry the mugs, then pack them exactly where I got them from. I study the mugs for a moment, making sure they’re perfectly facing the front before closing the cupboard.

Anya shakes her head at me, a smile dancing around her lips. ‘You’re getting worse with age.’

‘You have no idea,’ I reply playfully.

She turns away from me and I see her cheeks redden, the familiar blush making me smile. She stands, stretching her arms over her head, making the shirt she’s wearing rise, showing me her tanned stomach. I swallow as my gaze brushes over her skin.

We move upstairs and this time, I make sure to go first. I don’t need any excuse to be checking her out. When Anya slips inside the guest room, I gather a towel and hang it over the rack in the bathroom. We meet at the doorway of her room, and I lean into it. I rub my hand across my jaw. I’ve been working on my coping habits for when I’m feeling anxious, but it feels like everything has completely unravelled now I’m back here with her.

‘There’s a fresh towel in the bathroom for you,’ I say, quietly watching her as she wanders around the room, looking like a little lost lamb. My heart aches to comfort her, but too much has happened, and too much time has passed.

‘Thanks.’

‘Hey, Blush?’ I say, striding over to her and placing a finger under her chin, forcing her sad round eyes to look at mine. ‘We won’t let them get away with this.’