Page 16

FOURTEEN

JACKSON

“Looks pretty good,” the doctor says as he turns back to his computer and types a note into my file. “I’m going to recommend that the team remove you from the DL, but I want you to let me know if anything changes. As long as there isn’t pain between games, you can use a massage gun for recovery. Keep your diet the same and rest when you can, but you shouldn’t have a problem making it through playoffs. Do you have any questions?”

I shake my head as relief washes over me. Coming in here, I was worried he was going to keep me out for another week. With our first official playoff game coming in just three days, we’re cutting it pretty close. I worked my ass off rehabbing my hamstring so I’d be good to hit the field the moment they said I could. “I’m all set.”

“Alright. Get out of my office,” he replies with a playful smile. I laugh, standing and adjusting my shorts before thanking him for his help and heading out to the players’ lot at the training facility. The first part of our next series is in Daytona, so we have tomorrow off to relax before we play two in a row at Fury Field. I’m excited to get home and celebrate with Arden and Hawk. He left here about an hour ago, and since she doesn’t have practice on weekends, tonight and tomorrow will give the three of us some much-needed time off. With any luck, I’ll be able to bribe them into staying up past our bedtimes with pizza, movies and video games.

The drive to our building doesn’t take long, and I pull my car into my spot between Hawk’s truck and Arden’s sedan. She bought it used while she was in college, and it’s kind of a shit box, but she wouldn’t let me help her with money, so now it’s down here sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of luxury vehicles. Maybe someday she’ll let me buy the Mercedes I promised her when we were teenagers, but I won’t hold my breath. She’s nothing if not stubborn when it comes to taking gifts.

The elevator is empty when I step in, press the button for our floor, and busy myself by scrolling through social media. The doors eventually slide open, and I mindlessly walk out, completely sucked into the algorithm I’ve worked hard to curate. It’s mostly just a mixture of baseball stuff and videos of cats jumping off things and missing their targets, but it gets the job done when I need a distraction.

Stopping at our door, I unlock it, never looking up from my device as I step inside and kick off my shoes. I have a full plan to propose my idea of a lazy night to my roommates, but first, I need to shower and change into fresh clothes.

Pocketing my phone, I immediately notice that the living room is empty, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion because, at the very least, Arden should be on the couch watching TV. She usually lounges down here on her days off, so it’s weird that there isn’t a single blanket or bowl of snacks in sight.

Assuming she’s napping or something, I make my way up the stairs, slowing as muffled laughs come from the direction of Hawk’s bedroom. He rarely brings women here, and never without running it by me first—not that it matters because I’d know that excited squeal anywhere. My stomach drops when I hear it again, and my mouth goes dry as my feet carry me toward his door.

I reach the end of the hallway, listening in horror as her sweet voice utters his name, making him chuckle in response before the unmistakable sounds of them kissing bleed through the hard wood.

“Hawk, I have to go. Do you have an extra towel I can use or not?” she asks. He huffs a playful breath before moving across the floor, likely going into his en suite to give her what she went in there for. I panic, turning and rushing to my room before either of them can see me eavesdropping. As soon as I’m through the doorway, I close it as quietly as I can, pressing my back against it and dragging my hands down my face as my heart beats like a drum inside my ribcage.

Fuck.

Am I that stupid that I’ve been pushing them to be friends, never expecting it to turn into more? I knew how perfect they’d be together deep down, but I honestly didn’t think Hawk would ever allow himself to have anything good in this life. And that’s exactly what she is— good . Just like he is.

So why the fuck am I ready to puke at the thought of them being together?

It took me a long time to come to grips with the fact that I’d never have anything more than friendship with Arden. Putting space between us after high school so I could move on from that was necessary, and it’s why I jumped from woman to woman when I settled in Daytona. I thought if I did it enough, I’d be able to see her at family functions without blurting everything I’ve held in since the day I saw her kissing my teammate in the hallway. Now here I am, all these years later, right back where I started. Only this time, the teammate is my best friend, and we all live under the same roof. There’s no way I won’t eventually witness them together.

I can’t be mad or blame either of them for any of this since I’ve kept everything to myself. It’s not that I don’t trust Hawk with the information, but what would saying it out loud do anyway? It doesn’t change the situation. Arden is still my stepsister, which makes her completely off-limits.

My feet feel like two bricks weighing me down as I force myself into the bathroom, undress, and turn the shower up as hot as it’ll go. When I step inside, the water feels like lava, making my outsides burn as badly as my insides do. Leaning my head against the wall, I envision the possibility of a future where they end up together. Coming home to find them stealing kisses in the spaces we share. Helping him pick out an engagement ring because I know exactly what she’s wanted since she was a little girl. Doing my duty as his best man and delivering a sentimental gift to her on their wedding day. Being a godfather to their children. Watching him love her loudly and wishing it could be me. I know I’m moving fast, and maybe none of that will happen, but what if it does?

How the fuck am I going to do it?

I’m on autopilot as I shower and dry off, padding into my room and taking a t-shirt and shorts out of the dresser before robotically putting them on. My stomach is in knots, and my chest is tight with the anticipation of having to face them, pretending to be unbothered by the entire thing if and when they eventually tell me. I’m sure they will since I’ve never asked either of them to stay away from the other.

Stepping in front of the mirror, I take in my reflection, noticing how fucking broken I look already. I need to reel this shit in. The last thing I want is for the two people I care about most to feel like they’re wrong for finding happiness, if that’s even what this is. Maybe it’s not, and I’m freaking out over nothing. I’ll let myself sort through the emotions when I know for sure. But for now, I’m going to have to suck it up, go downstairs, and pretend like everything is fine and my heart isn’t obliterated by something I can never change.