Page 17

Zane

Every night this week, after class or practice, I’ve come home to find Wyatt waiting for me.

It’s become a routine I didn’t realize I’d gotten so attached to until tonight when I walked in and the house was empty. The silence settled over me like a weight, making it all too obvious what was missing.

Her.

Hayes dropped a message in the group chat saying he and Beckham were grabbing dinner at The End Zone. Not wanting to sit around my place alone, counting down the hours until Wyatt got off work, I figured I’d meet up with them and kill some time before I picked her up.

Colter shows up later, sliding into the booth across from me. “Ava’s working late at the studio,” he says, answering the question I hadn’t asked.

A server stops by to grab our drink orders. Beckham and I go for wings with blue cheese, while Hayes and Colter decide to split a pizza.

“You never did tell me how the anniversary surprise went,” I say, shifting the conversation while the server walks away.

Colter leans back against the booth, dragging a hand through his hair, and lets out a low chuckle. “Dude, she lost it. Full-on waterworks. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but yeah, she loved the ring.” His lips pull into a grin. “We agreed previously to celebrate over spring break when we can get out of Braysen for a bit. I think I’m gonna rent us a place up north, just the two of us, get away from everything for a while.”

A flicker of something tugs in my chest—something I don’t want to name, but I know exactly what it is.

I think about Wyatt.

What it would be like to have that kind of time with her. No classes, no practice, no sneaking around. Just us.

The conversation shifts as the TVs overhead flash highlights of the Braysen men’s basketball game. They’re up against one of the top-ranked teams, and from the looks of it, they might actually pull off the win.

“Think they’ll hold on?” Hayes asks, nodding toward the screen.

Beckham shrugs. “They’re playing their asses off, but they need to hold their defense together. If they give up another three, they’re screwed.”

The discussion moves to play calls and season stats, but my mind keeps drifting—to Wyatt, to the fact that in a couple of hours, she’ll be off work, and I’ll finally get to see her again.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m already looking forward to going home.

Wyatt: Work is slow, so I let Tatum cut out early.

Wyatt: Now it’s just me.

Glancing up, I check to make sure the guys aren’t paying attention.

Zane: You got cameras in the backroom?

Wyatt: Yes, but not of all the kitchen. Whyyy?

Zane: Maybe I should show up a little early…

The message is marked read.

I can practically see her reaction—her cheeks turning pink and her lips pulling between her teeth as she fights back a smile.

A low exhale leaves my chest as I shift in my seat, forcing my attention back to the TV. But the images on the screen blur because my mind is stuck on her—on the way she looked when I had her pressed against me outside of her class.

Dammit.

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off, but the heat simmering under my skin refuses to cool.

I need to get myself under control—especially with Colter sitting two feet away, oblivious to the fact that I’m fighting a losing battle.

Wyatt: You gonna fuck me against the side of the freezer?

Fuck.

So much for not getting hard.

Zane: You do realize I’m out to dinner with your brother, right?

Wyatt: *devil emoji*

Zane: I’m gonna spank your ass for that one.

Wyatt: Is that supposed to deter me? If so, I think you failed. *laughing emoji*

Of course, she loves the thought of me suffering, sitting here turned on with her brother right across from me.

I can picture her smirk, the way she’d bite her lip, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me.

Even if I wanted to slip out and cool off, there’s no way in hell I could do it unnoticed. The second I moved, Colter or the guys would clock it. And there’s no way I’m about to explain why I suddenly have the urge to stand through the rest of dinner.

Zane: You might change your mind when I tie you to my bed, get you worked up, and force you to watch while I get myself off.

I flare my nostrils and flip my phone over, setting it face down on the table before anyone can catch a glimpse of who I’m texting. My fingers itch to pick it back up, to see what she’ll say next, but I force myself to focus on the conversation with the guys.

Our food arrives a few minutes later, the scent of hot wings filling the air, but before I can dig in, my phone vibrates against the table again.

Colter’s eyes flick to me, then to the device, his suspicion sharp. “Who’s got you smiling like an idiot?”

Hayes, sitting next to him, cuts me a look. If I had any doubts that he knew what was going on between Wyatt and me, his expression confirms it now.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it,” I mutter, reaching for a wing to make myself look unbothered.

Colter’s brows pull together, and I already know that wasn’t the right answer.

“What do you mean, ‘don’t worry about it’?” His voice is laced with irritation. “Since when do we keep shit from each other?”

A knot tightens in my stomach. I shrug, keeping my expression unreadable. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. You don’t know her. I haven’t introduced you yet. It’s nothing serious.”

The words taste like ash.

Hayes leans back against the booth, gripping the edge of the table. His jaw flexes, his gaze drilling into me like he wants to call me out right then and there. I shoot him a quick, subtle shake of my head.

He doesn’t say anything, but the message is clear—I just fucked up.

And he’s right.

I hate that I even said it, acting like what I have with Wyatt is nothing . When Colter finds out the truth, it won’t just be my relationship with her on the line. He’ll be pissed at me, too.

We haven’t discussed what we are or defined whatever this is. But I hope she knows it isn’t just a fling for me. It can’t be. She’s been my best friend for too long and losing her once already nearly broke me.

I can’t go through that again.

I need to figure out if this thing between us—the fire that’s been burning under the surface for years—is real or if it’s just a spark destined to burn out. Because if I risk everything, if I risk her , I need to be sure we won’t crash and burn.

I barely make it through the next few minutes, my appetite nonexistent, when my phone vibrates again.

I hesitate before flipping it over, waiting until Beckham turns his attention back to the game. Hayes and Colter are caught up in their conversation, so I angle the screen away and swipe the notification open.

And fuck. My entire body locks up.

The picture fills my screen, and for a second, my brain short-circuits.

Wyatt stands in front of a mirror, her back to the camera, wearing nothing but a cropped shirt that’s pushed up just enough to barely cover her tits—her bare ass fully on display. But that’s not what does me in.

It’s the blue frosting smeared over her nipple.

My breathing turns shallow as I take in the details. The cupcake in her hand. The sultry arch of her back. The way I can feel her teasing smirk through the screen.

My dick is instantly rock hard.

She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

I hit the lock button so fast I nearly fumble the damn phone, shoving it into my pocket like it’s contraband.

“I need to hit the restroom,” I say, already pushing out of the booth.

Colter barely acknowledges me, but Hayes? He knows exactly why I’m leaving. His smirk is smug as hell as he takes a sip of his drink, shaking his head.

I don’t care.

I make a beeline for the bathroom, locking myself in a stall before pulling my phone back out. My thumb swipes across the screen, reopening the picture, and my breath catches in my throat.

I drag a hand through my hair, glancing at the time. There’s still a full hour before I pick her up from her shift, but screw it.

I can always get there early.

Zane: How am I supposed to eat dinner with the guys with my dick as hard as steel because all I can think about is this fuckin’ picture?

Wyatt: Sounds like you got your hands full.

She sends a lip-biting emoji, and fuck , I’m done for.

Standing alone in the bathroom, I grip the edges of the sink, my knuckles turning white as I try to steady myself. My phone feels like it’s burning a hole in my palm as the image of her is seared into my brain.

I should splash cold water on my face. I should get my shit together and head back to the table before the guys start asking questions.

But damn , all I can think about is getting out of here.

I exhale a shaky breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. I’m half tempted to shoot a quick text, tell the guys something came up—maybe I’m not feeling great, maybe I’ll catch them later. They wouldn’t question it.

And then?

I’d be on my way to her.

Wyatt: Don’t worry, I’ve saved plenty for you.

Zane: One hour. You and that sweet ass are mine in one hour, Wyatt Vaughn.

Wyatt: I know I’m in trouble when you use my full name. *laughing emoji*

Zane: You have no fuckin’ idea.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and force myself to sit through the next hour, choking down my now-cold wings and tossing enough cash on the table to cover my meal. The guys are still caught up in conversation, but my focus is shot. Every second drags, my pulse ticking faster the longer I wait.

By the time I finally make my exit, I keep my pace casual—like I’m in no rush. But the second I hit the parking lot, I move fast, slipping behind the wheel and peeling out before Colter has a chance to notice I’m headed in the opposite direction of my house.

Sweet Tooth’s neon closed sign glows through the front window when I pull up, but I don’t bother with the front entrance. Instead, I slip around the back, heading for the employee door.

That’s when I see her.

Wyatt steps outside, cradling a box in her hands, unaware of me closing in. The moment she’s within reach, I grab her arm, spinning her to press her against the side of the building.

She yelps, sucking in a sharp breath. “Holy shit, Zane! You scared the hell out of me.”

I grin, leaning in to press my mouth to her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla mixed with her perfume. It’s a heady combination, like a shot straight to my system, and I grind my hips against hers, unable to resist.

Her head tilts back instinctively, her body molding to mine—until she presses a hand to my chest, pushing me back just enough. “Wait, wait,” she breathes, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “You’re gonna ruin my surprise.”

“Surprise?” I murmur, dragging my fingers along the box she’s holding.

She bites her lip and nods. “I told you I saved you some of that cupcake, but I really meant I made some for you. I figured I owed you after missing your birthday two years in a row.”

I glance down, taking in the four cupcakes neatly arranged in the box, each one spelling out my name.

My chest tightens.

“You did this for me?”

“Of course I did.” Her smile is warm, soft, and just like that, I’m fucking done for.

Wyatt has always put thought into her gifts. The kind that lingers and means something. The year she surprised me with a photo album full of pictures from our summer camp trip. The time she somehow got a signed Travis Kelce jersey and enrolled me in a skills camp going into my sophomore year.

It was never about the cost. I grew up in a house where money wasn’t an issue. But Wyatt? She saw me. She cared in a way no one else ever had.

And I hated that I had to lie to Colter and tell him the jersey was from my dad because I couldn’t explain why his little sister would go to so much effort for me.

My throat tightens, and the words slip out before I can stop myself. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I brush my thumb along her cheek, tilting her face up before lowering my lips to hers. She melts into me, her body pressing against mine as I slide my tongue along her lips, deepening the kiss.

A soft moan escapes her, and I swear I almost lose it right here in a dimly lit parking lot at the end of October.

I growl against her lips, forcing myself to pull back. “C’mon, baby,” I murmur, grabbing her hand and taking the box from her. “Let’s get out of here.”

Wyatt slides across the bench seat of my car, pressing into my side, her warmth bleeding into me. Her fingers rest on my thigh, just shy of where my jeans are straining against my growing erection.

I grip the wheel tighter, pushing the speed limit the whole way home, desperate to get us there before I lose all self-control.

As soon as I pull into the driveway and cut the engine, I turn to her, my breathing ragged, my control hanging by a thread.

I don’t have to go any farther to finally have her.

She’s already mine.

I slide my hand between her and the seat, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, into the heat of her panties. My palm molds over the curve of her ass, squeezing just enough to make her squirm.

“Oh fuck, Zane.” Her voice comes out breathy, her hips shifting against me. “What are you doing?”

I smirk against the shell of her ear. “What does it look like I’m doing?” My grip tightens, my fingers pressing into her soft skin as I nod to my erection straining against my jeans. “Look how hard you made me. I had to sit through dinner with your brother like this.”

She tilts her head back, glancing up at me, her pupils dark and blown wide. Without hesitation, she drags her palm along the front of my jeans, pressing against the thick ridge straining behind my zipper.

“You gonna take care of me,” I murmur, my lips brushing her jaw, “after getting me all worked up with that naughty picture you sent?”

“Take care of you how?”

The teasing lilt in her voice nearly undoes me. I study her, watching the way she licks her lips, anticipation flickering in her eyes as she waits for me to tell her exactly what I want.

“Be a good girl,” I rasp. “Unzip my pants. Take my cock out. I want to see your pretty little hands wrapped around me.”

She presses her thighs together, her breath hitching, but she doesn’t hesitate. With shaky fingers, she pops the button on my jeans, then slowly pulls down the zipper.

I help her push my waistband low enough to free my aching length. The moment she wraps her fingers around me, dragging her touch from base to tip, I hiss through my teeth. She swipes her thumb over the swollen head, collecting the bead of precum that drips from the tip, and smears it over me with a small, satisfied smile.

“Mmm,” I groan, leaning in to claim her mouth with a deep, punishing kiss. “God, that feels incredible.”

“Show me,” she whispers against my lips, her voice cracking with need. “Show me how you like it.”

I guide her grip, showing her exactly how to stroke me, but she’s already a quick study, twisting her wrist just right, dragging her hand in slow, deliberate motions that make my abs go tight.

“Just like that, baby.” I press my forehead to hers, our breaths tangling. “You feel so fucking good.”

She leans in, her lips grazing my throat, her hot breath fanning over my skin. But it’s not enough. I need more of her.

“Take your jeans off.” My voice is rough and raw. “Climb on top of me.”

Her eyes flick to the windshield, then the darkened surroundings outside, as if someone could be watching. “Right here?”

“Yeah, baby.” I grin, giving her ass another squeeze. “Take them off and ride me.”

Her hesitation vanishes. She works quickly, shimmying out of her jeans and kicking them onto the floorboard. I push the seat back as far as it’ll go, spreading my legs and yanking my jeans down to my ankles, giving us the space we need.

Wyatt moves onto her knees, straddling me. My hands grip her hips as she hovers above me, and I reach between us, guiding my tip to her entrance.

She’s soaked.

A deep groan rumbles from my chest as I slowly ease inside her, feeling her stretch around me, taking me inch by inch.

“Right there, Wy,” I murmur, my fingers pressing into her hips as she rocks against me, adjusting to the fullness of me inside her.

She lets out a shaky breath, her hands bracing against my shoulders. When she finally sinks down fully, her body locking against mine, I swear I almost come right then.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I grit out, pressing my lips to the hollow of her throat. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me either,” she whimpers, her nails digging into my skin.

I hold her tighter, guiding her movements as we find a rhythm, our bodies melting into each other. Her breathy moans fuel me, sending pleasure spiking through my veins, and when she clenches around me, I bury my face in the crook of her neck, groaning as we come undone together.

Tangled. Breathless. Completely lost in each other.

I don’t just want Wyatt.

I need her in ways I’ll never be able to explain.