Page 28

Zane

It’s late when we roll into Braysen, the town wrapped in quiet, save for the low hum of the tires on the pavement. I haven’t checked my phone much—only when I texted Wyatt to let her know I made it back safely.

She replied right away. I’m home.

Which means she’s at her mom’s.

I leave my bag in the back seat, shoving my phone into the pocket of my dress pants as I step out. The night air is crisp, biting against my skin as I cut across the yard to the familiar oak tree outside her window.

I don’t think twice before reaching for the lowest branch, testing its strength with my grip. The bark is rough, scraping against my palm as I hoist myself up. My dress shoes slip against the trunk, making the climb trickier than usual.

Halfway up, the window creaks open, and Wyatt’s soft laughter spills out into the night.

“You still haven’t considered using the front door, huh?” she teases, amusement thick in her voice.

The branch wobbles beneath me, and my foot slips, sending a smaller one snapping to the ground below.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, bracing myself.

“Smooth,” she muses, resting her elbows on the windowsill, watching me struggle with a shake of her head.

I glare up at her. “Maybe stop distracting me before I break my damn neck?”

“Oh, my bad ,” she deadpans. “Didn’t realize me standing in my own bedroom while you attempt a break-in was a distraction.”

“This isn’t breaking and entering,” I huff, pulling myself up higher. “This is what we call using an alternate entrance.”

Wyatt snorts. “No, this is what we call an ER visit waiting to happen.”

Her smirk is taunting, and the twitch in my lips betrays me before I can fight it off. I hoist myself up one final time, gripping the windowsill and swinging my leg over, landing softly inside her room.

“My mom isn’t even home,” she informs me, smug. “Next time, just use the damn door.”

I barely have time to respond before I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She melts into me, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric of her sleep shorts and matching tank top.

She slides her hands under my jacket, nails tracing slow, deliberate paths over my back, and I exhale, the tension in my body unraveling.

“God, you don’t know how much I needed this,” I whisper into her hair. “After today… how much I needed to be near you.”

She nods against my chest. “I missed you.”

I stroke my fingers down her spine, grounding myself in the feel of her, in the quiet steadiness that’s her. We left for Georgia yesterday morning, and between the game, the press conference, and everything that went down afterward, it feels like weeks since I’ve seen her.

And it’s only going to get harder. We’re heading to Texas for the next round of playoffs. Longer trips, longer stretches without this—without her .

“How are you handling everything that happened?” she asks, pulling back just enough to study my face.

I haven’t told her much—just brief texts—but I know she’s heard about the press conference and what went down in that room.

I don’t know how to answer her yet, so I just tighten my hold, resting my forehead against hers.

She lets me take my time.

Shrugging, I slip my fingers under her shirt, my palm finding the warm curve of her waist. The heat of her skin grounds me, tethering me to this moment, to her.

“I keep thinking about what Luca said,” I murmur, my voice low. “About how I had my dad around, and he had no one. No one but his mom.”

Wyatt leans back just enough to look at me, her brows pinched with concern. “Thinking about it how?”

I exhale through my nose, dragging my thumb in slow circles over her skin. “For years, I’ve carried the weight of being James Kinnick’s son. Every move I made was under a microscope. If it wasn’t up to his impossible standard, it wasn’t good enough. That’s why I chose football. I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps like Miles and Myla. It was already hard enough having him as a father, but playing the same sport? Spending my entire career being compared to him?” I shake my head. “I couldn’t do it.”

Wyatt presses a hand to my chest, right over my heart. “You don’t have to prove anything to him or anyone else. The outside noise—the critics, the opinions—don’t define you. You know who you are. You know what you’re capable of. You don’t need your dad’s name to make it. You’re great all on your own.”

Her words settle inside me, steadying something that’s been off balance for too long. I nod, dragging my hands up her arms before cradling her face between my palms. Then I lean down and kiss her—deep, consuming, like I can breathe through her, as if she’s the only thing keeping me standing.

Wyatt moans softly, her fingers clutching the waistband of my pants like she’s afraid to let go. And maybe I need her to hold on, to anchor me, to remind me of the one thing in my life that isn’t tangled in expectations or regret.

I pull back just enough to whisper, “I love you.”

Her breath hitches, her entire body stilling against mine. Her wide eyes search mine like she needs to hear it again to believe it. “What?”

A slow smile tugs at my lips. “I love you, Wyatt Lynn.”

Tears brim in her eyes, shimmering in the dim light. She presses her lips together like she’s trying to keep herself from falling apart.

“I love you too,” she whispers, and I kiss her again, hard and deep. It’s like nothing else in this world exists except her and me.

Because that’s the truth. As long as I have Wyatt, I can face anything. I’ve always known it. Now it’s time for her to know it too.

“Come with me,” I murmur against her lips.

She pulls back slightly, blinking up at me. “Come with you where?”

I run my hands down her back, holding her close. “After the season ends, I’ll be leaving Braysen. I don’t know where I’ll end up, what team I’ll play for, but I know one thing for sure—I want you with me. You can finish school remotely or transfer, whatever you want to do. But I need you, Wyatt. Promise me you’ll come with me.”

Her lips part on a sharp inhale like she’s trying to process my words. “Are you asking me to move in with you… or just to follow you wherever you go?”

I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m asking for all of it. Living together, waking up next to you every morning. And one day soon, I want to put a ring on your finger. I want the whole damn world to know you’re mine.”

Wyatt’s breath shudders, her smile breaking through the tears spilling down her cheeks. She nods slowly, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.

“Say it again,” she whispers.

I chuckle softly, pressing my forehead to hers. “Which part?”

“All of it. Say it again,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

I brush my lips over her knuckles, pressing a lingering kiss to her ring finger. “I love you, Wyatt Lynn Vaughn. And I’m going to put a ring on this finger. Then I’m going to marry the fuck out of you.” My eyes flick to hers, holding her gaze. “I don’t care where I go or what team I play for. As long as you’re by my side, I have everything I need.”

Her breath stutters, a soft hiccup escaping as she nods. I wipe away the tears spilling over her cheeks, cupping her face.

“I love you too,” she whispers, voice shaking but sure. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

A slow smile tugs at my lips as I kiss her again, walking her backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed. My voice drops to a gravelly murmur, thick with need.

“Sit down, baby.”

She shivers but obeys, lowering onto the mattress, her eyes locked on mine. I shrug off my jacket, draping it over her desk chair before slowly unbuttoning my dress shirt. Wyatt watches my every move, her breath shallow, her chest rising and falling in sync with mine.

I let the shirt slip from my shoulders and reach for my belt, unhooking it with measured precision. The leather whispers through the loops before I shove my pants to the floor, toeing off my dress shoes in the process.

The second I step out of my clothes, I see the way her pupils dilate, how her lips part just slightly. I’m already hard, my cock pressing against the thin barrier of my briefs. I grip myself through the fabric, rolling my head back with a groan.

“Lie back,” I command, my voice rough. “Spread your legs for me.”

She exhales shakily but follows my order, easing her feet to the floor before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her sleep shorts. She lifts her hips, pushing them and her panties over the curve of her ass and down her thighs, letting them pool on the floor.

Then she settles back, her legs falling open—laid out for me, just like I asked.

A deep growl rumbles in my chest as I drop to my knees between her parted thighs, my fingers digging into them as I take in the sight before me.

Fuck, she’s glistening. Slick with need, her body begs for me without a single word spoken.

The hunger inside me snaps.

I shove my underwear over my hips and wrap my hand around my length, groaning as I fist myself once. But it’s not enough. Not when she’s spread out in front of me like this, aching and waiting.

I lean in, swiping my tongue over her slick folds, and she gasps, her back arching off the bed. Her fingers twist into the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

My phone vibrates in my pants pocket, the buzzing loud in the quiet of the room before a sharp ring pierces the air.

I ignore it. Whoever it is can wait.

Brushing my fingers through her wetness, I press a single digit inside her, curling just enough to make her whimper. Her hips lift instinctively, silently begging for more.

“Lift your shirt,” I order, my voice thick. “Let me see those perfect tits. Play with them for me.”

Wyatt bites her lip, dragging the hem of her tank top up and over her chest, exposing every soft curve, every dip and swell of her body.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

The sight of her—flushed and panting, curves spread out beneath me, fingers teasing her own nipples—only fuels the fire licking through my veins.

I lean in, pressing another slow kiss to her inner thigh before looking up at her, a wicked grin tugging at my lips.

“You have no idea what you do to me, firecracker.”

I slide a second finger inside her, curling them just right, brushing against the sensitive spot that has her arching off the bed. Her slickness coats my fingers as I lean in, my tongue flicking near her entrance, craving a taste.

Then my phone starts ringing.

I ignore it, but Wyatt murmurs breathlessly, “Do you want to answer that?”

Cursing under my breath, I pull my fingers from her, already irritated with whoever is interrupting. I blindly feel around for my phone, swiping the screen without checking the caller ID.

“Yeah?” My voice is gruff, edged with frustration.

“Well, hello to you too, ya prick.”

A grin tugs at my lips as my brother’s voice filters through the speaker. “You caught me at a bad time. Kind of busy.”

“Aren’t we all?” Miles chuckles. “Just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing.”

I grunt, pushing to my feet. Wyatt props herself up on her elbows, her eyes locked on me. I’ve lost my underwear at this point, standing completely naked between her thighs, but I can’t take my eyes off her—the way her skin glows, the way she watches me with hunger in her gaze.

“I was doing great,” I say, gripping myself absently, “up until you called.”

“Well, all right then, asshole. I’ll let you go. Tell Wyatt I said hi.”

Wyatt presses her lips together, stifling a laugh. Probably because she can hear every word—and probably because my dick is in my hand while I’m having this conversation.

“How the hell do you know about Wyatt and me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Myla may have let it slip. Don’t shoot the messenger. It was bound to happen eventually. I’m just glad it happened before you turned into an even bigger dickhead.”

Wyatt outright giggles now, shaking her head.

I exhale through my nose, dragging my palm up her thigh. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll catch up.”

Miles didn’t make it home for Christmas. His basketball schedule is brutal this time of year, making trips home damn near impossible.

“Or maybe after the season wraps up, Wyatt and I can take a trip down, catch one of your games.”

“I like the sound of that, Z. And I’m serious—you sound happy. I can hear it in your voice, and I’m fuckin’ happy for you.”

I press the head of my cock against Wyatt’s entrance, and her breath hitches. My fingers dig into her thighs as she shifts beneath me, heat pooling in her gaze.

“Thanks, man,” I say, my voice raspier than before. “Means a lot.”

Wyatt trails her fingers down her stomach, circling her clit, and I bite back a groan. Her body trembles, her breasts bouncing slightly with every breath.

I need to end this call. Now.

“Talk tomorrow,” I mutter, and before he can respond, I hang up, flipping my phone face down and shutting it off completely. Anyone else who needs me can wait.

Sliding my length through her wet folds, I grip her thighs and press them back until her knees frame her chest, opening her up to me.

I tease her, dragging the head of my cock against her entrance, and she shudders. “I love you,” I murmur, my eyes locked on hers.

Her lashes flutter, her lips parting. She reaches for me, her fingers gripping my wrist. “I love you too.”

Adjusting my stance, I hook her legs over my forearms, pinning her beneath me as I thrust deep.

Wyatt cries out, her body arching into mine.

“Fuck,” I growl, squeezing my eyes shut. “I love you—and I love this fuckin’ pussy.”

She clenches around me, a wicked gleam flashing in her eyes because she knows exactly what that does to me.

“Let me taste your nipples, baby.” She cups her breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers before offering it to me.

My restraint snaps.

I lean down, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before sucking it deep into my mouth. Wyatt whimpers, her nails digging into my scalp, tugging my hair just how I like.

The friction. The heat. The way she feels beneath me—it’s too much, too good. My thrusts turn desperate as my body takes what it needs, what it craves.

Her body tenses beneath me, her moans turning frantic. Her orgasm slams into her, and her walls tighten around me, sending me spiraling right after her.

I collapse against her, wrapping my arms around her trembling frame, my forehead dropping against her chest.

Our breathing slows. The only sound is our hearts pounding in sync, the weight of everything we’ve just said hanging between us.

Wyatt brushes her fingers through my hair, her touch gentle, soothing.

I lift my head, pressing my lips against hers once more, slow and deep.

“I meant it,” I murmur against her mouth. “Every damn word.”

Her smile is soft, her voice barely a whisper.

“I know.”

And with her in my arms, I know that no matter what comes next, I have everything I’ll ever need.