Page 54 of Red Zone (PCU Storm #2)

LYLA

D id he just say he was in love with me?

I blink up at him, my heart hammering so loud in my chest I’m sure he can hear it.

Carter Hayes—calm, confident, charming—is sitting here on my dad’s back patio, under the soft glow of string lights, telling me he loves me like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

And I…I can’t breathe.

He’s leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his dark eyes fixed on mine like he’s afraid to even blink in case I disappear.

“I…” I start, but the word catches in my throat.

Because what do you even say when the thing you’ve been trying so hard not to want is suddenly right in front of you, laid bare?

I glance down at my hands, twisting my fingers in my lap.

He loves me.

Me.

Not some version of me that’s polished and put-together and perfect.

Not the intern who keeps her head down and her planner full.

Just…me.

And the terrifying part?

I already know I love him too.

I’ve known for weeks.

Maybe longer.

I draw in a shaky breath, forcing myself to look up at him again.

His expression hasn’t changed. He’s still watching me, quiet and steady, letting me process.

Because that’s what he does.

He waits for me.

And somehow, that’s what makes my chest ache the most.

I open my mouth, finally finding my voice.

“Did you…” I swallow hard, my lips trembling despite myself. “Did you mean that?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Every word,” he says, his voice low and certain.

I’m still staring at him, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my lips, when he reaches out.

His warm, calloused hand finds mine, and before I can stop him, he gently tugs me out of my chair.

And then, in one smooth motion, he pulls me down into his lap.

I gasp softly, my hands instinctively finding his shoulders for balance as I settle against him, my knees bracketing his thighs.

“Carter,” I whisper, glancing toward the house, my heart hammering.

But he doesn’t even flinch.

His hands settle on my hips, steady and sure, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

“Say it,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but full of that same certainty that undid me minutes ago.

I swallow hard, my fingers curling in the fabric of his jacket.

“I…” My voice shakes, but I force it out anyway. “I love you too.”

His jaw tightens just slightly, but his lips curve into the faintest, most breathtaking smile I’ve ever seen.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he says, leaning his forehead to mine.

For a moment, it feels like the rest of the world falls away. Like it’s just him and me and this perfect little bubble where nothing else matters.

But then reality creeps back in, sharp and cold.

I glance over my shoulder again toward the house, the faint sound of laughter and clinking glasses floating through the slightly open door.

I start to shift back, my voice dropping.

“Carter…we can’t?—”

He stops me with a faint shake of his head, his hands tightening just enough to keep me where I am.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” he murmurs. “You’re gonna say we can’t. Because of what Megan said. Because I’m still an athlete at PCU.”

I swallow hard, my cheeks burning as I nod.

But then he leans just a little closer, his lips grazing my temple as he whispers?—

“As of yesterday, I’m not an athlete at PCU anymore.”

I freeze, my breath catching.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, his smirk faint but full of meaning.

“So, unless you’ve got another excuse, Princess, you’re out of reasons why I can’t kiss the shit out of you right now.”

The last of my walls crumble.

I blink up at him, his words still echoing in my head, my heart hammering so loud I swear he can hear it.

He’s right.

And the little smirk tugging at his lips—cocky and hopeful all at once—tells me he knows it too.

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes at him just slightly, even though my chest feels like it’s about to burst.

“Well then,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing despite the way my pulse is screaming. “You wanna kiss me, Hayes?”

His smirk deepens instantly, his grip on my hips tightening just slightly.

“You know I do,” he says, his voice rough around the edges.

My lips twitch into the faintest grin, my heart finally giving in to what it’s wanted all along.

“Prove it,” I whisper.

Before the words are even fully out of my mouth?—

He does.

The second the words leave my lips, his hands slide up my back, one cupping the back of my neck as he closes the last inch between us.

His mouth captures mine, warm and insistent, and the world just disappears.

It’s not just a kiss.

It’s every unspoken word, every sleepless night, every second we’ve spent pretending we could stay away from each other.

His fingers tangle in my hair as he deepens it, and I can’t help the soft sound that escapes me.

He pulls me closer like he can’t get enough, like he’s been starving for this, for me.

And I kiss him back just as desperately, threading my fingers into his collar, clinging to him as if letting go isn’t even an option.

When he finally pulls back, just barely, his forehead rests against mine.

His lips are curved into the faintest smile, his voice low and wrecked when he whispers?—

“Been waiting a long time for that, Princess.”

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, a voice from the patio door cuts through the haze.

“Well, it’s about damn time!”

We both freeze, whipping our heads toward the house to see Jaxon standing there with his arms crossed, grinning like an idiot. Madison’s peeking around him, her hands on her hips, her smile every bit as smug.

Carter groans softly, his head dropping to my shoulder.

But even as the moment shatters, neither of us lets go.

We finally untangle ourselves—well, mostly—when Jaxon gives us a pointed look and jerks his chin toward the house.

“You two done making out like teenagers?” he teases.

Carter mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like jealous, but he slides his hand into mine anyway, giving my fingers a quick squeeze before we step back inside.

The noise hits me all at once.

But this time, with Carter’s hand warm and steady in mine, it doesn’t feel so overwhelming.

People glance our way as we re-enter, a few of them doing double takes, but Carter doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps his hand firmly in mine, his chin lifted, like he’s not ashamed of what we just made very clear.

We’re us.

And we’re done hiding it.

As we weave through the crowd, I feel his grip shift as he catches sight of my dad standing by the kitchen island, deep in conversation with the athletic director.

I slow slightly, but Carter just lets go of my hand long enough to clap Jaxon on the shoulder and murmur, “Take care of her for a second.”

Jaxon quirks a brow but nods, pulling me gently toward Madison as Carter makes his way toward my dad.

I watch from a few feet away as he stops in front of him.

My dad turns, taking in the sight of him—and then, unexpectedly, his face breaks into one of those rare, proud smiles I haven’t seen in years.

Carter holds out his hand, and my dad takes it without hesitation, gripping it firmly.

“Congratulations, Hayes,” my dad says, loud enough for me to hear over the buzz of the party. “Chicago made a hell of a pick. You earned this. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Carter’s shoulders ease just slightly, and even from here, I can see the faintest grin tug at his lips.

“Thanks, Coach,” he says, his voice quiet but steady. “Means a lot. More than you know.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything finally feels…right.