Page 27 of The Game Changer (Knights of Passion #3)

Chapter

Eighteen

D ylan stumbled downstairs the next morning, bleary-eyed and yawning, blindly following the siren call of coffee.

It was way too damn early, especially after a night like last night, but Savannah had insisted she needed to hit the road early for rescue efforts.

And once she was up—naked, dewy from the shower, tossing him a wicked grin as she shoved him out of the bathroom—well, there was no going back to sleep after that.

He was relegated to the kitchen on breakfast duty.

That, and dog duty, since she’d deemed him temporarily “unfit for temptation.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, already resigned to a morning of canine chaos, when he stepped into the kitchen and froze.

“Lindsey? What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?”

His little sister sat at the kitchen table like she belonged there, two very traitorous dogs seated at attention beside her, their gazes locked on the egg sandwich in her hand. Judging by the empty wrappers on the table and the contentment in their eyes, she’d already bribed them into submission.

So much for alert guard dogs.

And Christ—if Savannah hadn’t shown him Lindsey’s mug shot a couple weeks back, he wouldn’t have recognized her.

Her deep auburn hair was now white-blonde with streaks of faded pink, and dark makeup ringed her eyes like bruises.

The sharp angles of her too-thin frame were impossible to miss, her once-chubby cheeks sunken, her collarbones stark.

She looked skittish, like a stray expecting a boot instead of a welcome.

He swallowed the instinct to demand answers and opened his arms.

Relief cracked her fragile expression. In the next heartbeat, she launched herself into his embrace, winding her skinny arms around his neck, burying her face there like she used to when they were kids.

He slid his hands up and down her back, trying not to notice how he could feel every bone in her spine through her thin t-shirt.

“Well, I’d be jealous if I didn’t recognize the face,” Savannah said behind him, her voice arch and amused.

Lindsey’s head whipped up, horror and mortification flashing across her face. “Oh my God. You’re not alone?” Then a smirk twisted her lips. “I didn’t know you had it in you, big brother.”

She peered over his shoulder. “Savannah?”

Savannah grinned. “Hey, Lindsey.”

Lindsey released Dylan and hugged Savannah like they were old sorority sisters. “It’s about time you grew some taste, Dylan.”

He blinked at them both, stunned. “Wait. How do you two know each other?”

Lindsey rolled her eyes and struck a pose, hand on hip, pure sass. “I had to make sure she was taking care of you when you were out cold. I called almost every day.”

He turned to Savannah, who was now intensely focused on scooping dog food into bowls like she hadn’t just been caught in a week-long conspiracy with his sister.

She exhaled softly, still not meeting his eyes. “Yes, I answered your phone. And yes, it was your sister. We had a very… enlightening conversation.”

He arched a brow. “And?”

“That’s all you’re getting,” she said, offering him a nonchalant shrug while continuing to avoid eye contact.

Lindsey didn’t even pause. “I told her all about Mom and Dad. Gave her the rundown. Told her to run interference if either of them called.”

Her voice was flippant, but Dylan heard the slight quaver underneath, that tiny thread of longing he knew too well. That constant ache for a parent’s approval they’d both stopped admitting they wanted.

Savannah hesitated. “They didn’t call. I’m sorry.”

Lindsey gave a jerky shrug, but her laugh didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s probably better. Dad would’ve chewed Dylan out for not avoiding the hit and Mom would’ve made a fuss but never shown up. She’s busy with her new boy toy anyway.”

Dylan’s brows shot up. “Wait—Mom’s seeing someone?”

Lindsey flopped back in her chair, her sandwich forgotten. “Yeah. She dumped my agent and is now banging Kyle Weston. You know, my co-star. He’s all of two years older than me. Fucking fantastic, right?”

“Language,” he said automatically, stunned.

She scoffed. “I’m twenty-four. You’ve read worse about me in the press.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “True. So why are you here?”

Savannah pushed off the counter. “Well, this seems like a good time to let you two catch up. Carl, let’s go.”

But Carl had other plans. The big mutt laid his head in Lindsey’s lap and whined like a child whose favorite aunt was being kicked out.

“He can stay, right?” Lindsey said, stroking Carl’s head. “He’ll be fine with me.”

Savannah gave Dylan a look—half plea, half warning—and he sighed.

“You’ll be back later anyway,” he said. “Just leave him. He’ll be okay. I’ll walk you out.”

He guided her to the garage with a hand on the small of her back. The warmth of her beneath his palm reminded him how quickly she’d become a part of him. The moment the garage door closed behind them, he backed her into her car door, gently caging her in with his body.

“I never got to say goodbye.”

Before she could respond, he kissed her—hot, deep, and claiming.

He needed her taste, her breath, something to anchor him before walking back into whatever storm Lindsey had brought with her.

She melted into him with a breathy sigh, fingers sliding under his shirt, tracing his ribs, his back.

He deepened the kiss, tasting mint and heat and need, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, just to feel the satin of her panties and the smooth skin beneath.

She gasped, tearing her lips away. He grinned and let his hand drop.

“Have a nice day, sweetheart.”

He leaned back against his SUV, watching her pull herself together, smug and a little turned on. Her gaze dropped to the unmistakable bulge in his sweatpants and she cocked an amused brow.

“I’d wait a bit before heading back inside.”

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I plan to take my time.” Although, thoughts of the conversation waiting for him inside were already killing his arousal.

She touched his cheek, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “Go easy on her. She’s been through something.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Something like three DUIs, partying with people who sell their souls for Instagram likes, and whatever drugs she’s trying to hide.”

Savannah raised a brow. “You ever think maybe she’s lost? Not malicious, just… spinning out?”

He looked away. “I know lost. I’ve lived it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let her burn my house down with it.”

“No one’s asking you to. Just don’t go full scorched earth. Try listening first.”

He groaned. “That work with your sister?”

Savannah grinned. “She hasn’t killed anyone yet, so… progress?”

She rose on her toes and kissed him, soft and quick. “Be nice. You can be a hard-ass when you’re in protect mode.”

He sighed and nodded. “Fine. But no drugs. I can’t risk a suspension.”

She hesitated at the car. “About tonight… dinner… I don’t know.”

He stared. “You’re serious? After all we’ve done, dinner’s what freaks you out?”

“It just makes it feel more real, okay?”

“It is real, Savannah. You’re in my bed. My house. You’ve met my dogs and my family. We’re doing this backward as hell, but I think we can handle a meal in public.”

She hesitated, then finally nodded. “You’re right. It’s just dinner. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Good luck with your meeting. You’ll kill it.”

She slid into the car, waving as she backed out of the driveway. Dylan stood in the garage, sighing.

So much for morning sex. One round would never be enough with Savannah.

Not anymore.

D ylan let himself back into the house and paused in the entryway, his gaze drifting to where Lindsey sat curled up in one of the oversized chairs.

Legs tucked under her, coffee mug cradled between shaky hands, she looked impossibly small.

Younger than twenty-four. Fragile in a way that unsettled him more than he liked.

Savannah’s voice lingered in his ears— go easy on her —and he exhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation that always tried to bubble up when it came to his family.

He wasn’t angry. Not really. Just… out of his depth.

He crossed into the kitchen and glanced at the stove, needing something to do, a place to anchor his hands while his brain tried to work out the right way to start this conversation.

He hadn’t seen Lindsey in… what? A year?

Two? The last time they’d been in the same room for more than five minutes had been during the offseason, and even then, it was all surface-level.

Whirlwind visits, red carpets, Instagram posts, and late-night check-ins that never really meant anything.

The little sister who used to trail him through the house, clinging to his hand and mimicking his every word—that girl was gone. Replaced by this brittle, sarcastic stranger, who carried exhaustion in her bones and shadows in her eyes.

“You hungry? How did you get here?” he asked finally, keeping his voice light as he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee from the half-full carafe.

Lindsey held up her own mug. “Found the coffee. And the egg sandwiches. I brought you one too…” Her gaze shifted to the floor where wrappers were crumpled up like casualties.

“But the dogs looked hungry.” She shot him a weak, sheepish grin.

“Didn’t know you’d have company. Sorry if I, you know, cock-blocked you. ”

He didn’t take the bait. Just took a sip of the coffee and let the silence stretch.

That used to work when she was younger. Still did, apparently.

Her smirk faded, her eyes dropping as she curled tighter into herself, chin pressed to her knees, arms wrapped protectively around her legs. Like a kid hiding in plain sight.

“The usual way,” she muttered. “Planes, automobiles. No trains this time.”

His patience frayed a little at the edges. “You know what I mean. Why here? Why now? No jokes, no bullshit, Lindsey. Just give it to me straight.”

She let out a long sigh that deflated her even further into the cushions.

“I just… needed out. Out of LA. Out of my head. I wanted to meet the woman who managed to take care of you without running for the hills. And you said I could come, remember? Or was that a sympathy invite you thought I’d forget? ”

Dylan studied her over the rim of his cup.

Her makeup was smeared, dark crescents under her eyes that even concealer couldn’t hide.

Her hair—once meticulously styled—was a rat’s nest of bleach and fading color.

She was twitchy, closed off, vibrating with the kind of tension he recognized too well.

She was exhausted. Not just physically, but bone-deep, soul-weary tired. And she wasn’t ready to admit why.

He crossed the room and dropped a hand gently on her shoulder.

Her skin was cool, her muscles locked beneath his palm like she was bracing for something.

“Good thing I got furniture for the spare room,” he said quietly.

“But listen to me, Lindsey—no parties. No drugs. No alcohol. Not while you’re under this roof. ”

Her eyes flashed. “You drink. Why can’t I?”

He tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Because I think you need to stop. Just for a little while. Dry out. Eat something that isn’t catered or ordered at midnight. Sleep without being hungover or high. Reset. Then figure out your next move when you’re ready.”

For a moment, she didn’t speak. Then she sagged a little, some of the fight leaking out of her. “Okay,” she whispered.

He leaned in and kissed the top of her head, like he used to when she was little and afraid of thunderstorms. “Stay as long as you need to. Just don’t bring Mom and Dad into this. Please.”

That earned a breathy, almost reluctant laugh. “Deal. The last thing I need is a visit from them.”

He gave her shoulder one last squeeze and headed for the stairs, already mentally preparing for the day. Shower. Gear up. Head to the park. Try to focus on game strategy instead of the emotional hurricane brewing under his roof.

At the top of the stairs, he paused and looked back.

His house had always been quiet, clean, and ordered. Now? Now it was filled with dogs, emotional landmines, and the impossible gravity of two women who meant more to him than he’d ever intended.

Savannah was probably off limits for a while—at least for anything involving naked skin and tangled sheets. As much as his libido hated the idea, the thought of getting frisky down the hall from his little sister made his skin crawl.

He sighed and shook his head. Should’ve bought a bigger house.