Page 29

Wyatt

I knew it was going to be a good night the moment I stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Zane leaning against the dresser, effortlessly mouthwatering in a brown-and-navy plaid button-up, the sleeves pushed to his forearms, a white T-shirt peeking out from underneath. His well-worn denim hugged his frame just right, and the scuffed-up boots only added to the rugged appeal that made my stomach tighten and my pulse race.

And now, as we step into Whiskey Sinner’s thirty minutes later with our friends, greeted by a round of applause from the locals celebrating the guys’ playoff win, I know for sure. Tonight is going to be one to remember.

They’re not planning on going hard, not with their trip to Texas looming for the next round of playoffs, but that doesn’t mean we won’t cut loose for a little while.

Reed steps in close when Zane gets pulled into a conversation with Colter, his smirk telling me he remembers the last time we were here together. The night I warned him to get his ass in gear before he lost Tatum for good.

“I guess you were right,” Reed shouts over the music.

I arch a brow, my lips curving. “Not shocking, but remind me—what exactly was I right about this time?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You told me to wise up, stop being a dumbass, and go after Tatum. That we can’t fight what the heart wants.”

I nod, lifting my champagne glass to my lips and taking a slow, deliberate sip. “Maybe I was too young in your eyes to understand love,” I say, meeting his gaze, “but that doesn’t mean I hadn’t already felt it.”

Reed tilts his head toward Zane. “I’m just glad he figured it out before he fucked himself over and lost you.”

I shake my head, a soft laugh escaping as I swirl the champagne in my glass. “As much as he pissed me off trying to push me away, he was never going to lose me for good. I was too damn in love with him to fully walk away.”

Like he can sense the shift in conversation, Zane’s arm comes around my waist, pulling me flush against his side without even looking up from whatever Colter just said.

Reed smirks. “Sometimes us guys need a kick in the ass.” He nods toward Zane. “Ain’t that right, Kinnick?”

Zane glances between us, brow lifting. “What’s that?”

“I was telling her you needed a good ass-kicking, but at least you got your shit together before you lost her.”

A slow, knowing grin spreads across Zane’s face as he looks down at me. “Amen to that. And there’s no one else I’d let hand me that ass-kicking like you, firecracker.”

I roll my eyes, but my body melts against his, drawn to him like gravity.

Leaning up on my toes, I whisper in his ear, “Finish your drink so you can push me around the dance floor. I need every woman in this bar to know exactly who you belong to.”

His gaze darkens, locking onto mine with a heat that sends a shiver racing down my spine. Without breaking eye contact, he tips his beer back, downing the rest in one long swallow before slamming the empty bottle onto the table.

Yeah, it’s going to be a good night.

Zane turns to me, his grip firm yet gentle as he takes both of my hands and leads me onto the dance floor. As the music shifts to a slower tune, he pulls me in close, one arm curling securely around my waist while his other hand laces with mine.

The warmth of his body against mine sends a slow shiver down my spine. The scent of his cologne—woodsy and familiar—wraps around me like a memory I never want to let go of.

I’m dressed in my black bell-bottom jeans and booties paired with a burnt-orange tank top, its fringe swaying with every small movement. The outfit fits the Western vibe of Whiskey Sinner’s perfectly. My hair is loose and curled, and I gathered the top half into a messy bun to keep it out of my face.

Zane dips his head, his breath feathering against my ear. “Five months from now, we’ll be leaving this town. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

A slow smile tugs at my lips. “Of course, I’m ready. Honestly, I’m excited. It’s like we’re stepping into a whole new chapter.”

His hand tightens around mine, thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I am too. Who knows where we’ll end up, but that’s part of the adventure.”

“Is there a team you’re hoping to land with?” I ask, curious if he’s been thinking about where he might end up.

He shrugs, his fingers tracing slow circles against the small of my back. “It’d be fun to get away from the East Coast, maybe head out West. Seattle or San Francisco.”

“What about LA?”

He scrunches his nose. “I don’t think I want to deal with the whole Hollywood scene.”

I smirk because I was thinking the same thing. “San Fran wouldn’t be much better.”

“True,” he admits, tilting his head. “I wouldn’t mind somewhere in the Midwest. It’s more our speed. And honestly? I think I could be happy anywhere as long as you’re with me.” His lips graze my temple. “It’d be even better if one of the guys landed on the same team. It’d make things easier—for me, but also for you if one of the girls were in the same city.”

He has a point. Everly and Tatum have become two of my closest friends. Being away from them would be hard, but we’d all be figuring out our new lives together. Plus, there’d be games to reunite us and FaceTime to keep us close.

We keep moving, Zane spinning me effortlessly across the floor for another song. By the third, my gaze drifts across the crowd, taking in the familiar faces, the dim glow of neon signs, the low hum of conversation beneath the music.

And then my breath catches.

Standing near the bar, looking out of place as hell in a sea of Braysen locals, is Luca.

My body tenses before I can stop it.

Zane immediately picks up on it, his hold on me shifting as he leans down, murmuring in my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, don’t look right now, but Luca is here. Across the bar.” I keep my voice low, but the second I say it, Zane’s head snaps in that direction.

Luca’s gaze locks on his, his expression unreadable at first. But then his eyes narrow, his posture shifting ever so slightly.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I told you not to look right now.”

Zane’s jaw clenches. “What does it matter if I see him?”

“Well, for one, I didn’t want him to know we were talking about him. And now he does.”

Zane doesn’t say anything at first, just keeps his eyes trained on Luca for another beat before turning back to me. “Should I go talk to him?”

I hesitate, pressing my palms against his chest, grounding us both. “I don’t know. Do you want to? The last time the two of you saw each other, it wasn’t exactly civil. Are you ready for that right now?”

His throat bobs, the tension in his shoulders shifting, but his eyes stay locked on mine. “I don’t know. But I think it’s time we find out.” He shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, I figured I’d see him eventually, but I hadn’t considered what I’d say.”

As the song fades and we step off the dance floor, I scan the crowd for Luca. But he’s gone. “He must’ve left,” I murmur, rising onto my toes, searching for any sign of him.

Zane follows my gaze, then exhales sharply. “Guess that answers that. If he wanted to talk, he wouldn’t have bailed. Sharing DNA doesn’t make us brothers, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean we have to be friends. After everything that’s happened, I don’t even know if that’s even possible.”

I lean back, studying his expression. “You really believe that? That there’s no chance to move past this?”

He shrugs again, his jaw set, and I shake my head.

“And here I thought I was the stubborn one,” I tease.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t fully smile. “You think I should just forgive him? Act like none of this ever happened?”

“No. But I don’t think it has to define the rest of your lives either.” I squeeze his hand. “You don’t know what he was told—what he believed. For all we know, he thought you knew he was your half brother and didn’t care.”

Zane scoffs. “That’s not true, though. How would I have known? He changed his last name, for fuck’s sake. If it weren’t for Reed, I never would’ve figured it out. At least not until he lost it and would’ve blindsided me with it during the press conference. If that had been the way I found out? I don’t know how I would’ve reacted.”

I nod, relieved he’d at least had time to process it before it all exploded.

“Have you heard from your dad?” I ask carefully.

Zane sighs, his fingers tightening around mine. “Yeah. He’s tried calling and texting. I haven’t read the messages, and I sure as hell haven’t answered. I’m not ready to hear whatever bullshit excuse he has.”

I nod. “Then don’t. It’s your call.”

We hang around, catching up with friends. I finalize plans with Everly and Tate for our trip to Texas for the game while Ava and Hallyn talk about traveling with the dance team. After three glasses of champagne and another spin around the dance floor, I’m ready to call it a night.

Zane only had one beer, so he drives us home. The ride is quiet, comfortable, his hand resting on my thigh, his thumb brushing lazy circles against my skin.

When he parks in the driveway, I turn to him with a slow smile. “Hot tub?”

His brows lift. “You gonna let me fuck you in the hot tub?”

My breath hitches, but I nod. “Yes.”

A low hum of approval rumbles in his chest. He reaches for the door handle, stepping out, then extends a hand to help me out on his side.

The backyard is quiet as we slip through the gate, the soft glow of the pool lights reflecting off the water. The guesthouse windows overlook the space, but with Myla gone for the weekend, no one is here to interrupt us.

Zane flicks on the hot tub lights, the jets bubbling to life. When he turns to face me, I don’t hesitate.

I grab the hem of my tank top, pulling it over my head. My strapless bra is next, the clasp between my breasts releasing as I let it drop.

Zane’s gaze darkens, his attention riveted to every movement.

Next, I unbuckle my belt, unbutton my jeans, and slowly push them over my hips. My booties come off easily, followed by my jeans, leaving me in nothing but my socks and black lace thong.

Zane shakes his head, voice gruff. “All of it. Now.”

Holding his stare, I lift one foot, peeling off a sock, then the other. Then, finally, I hook my thumbs into the lace and slip them down my legs, letting them fall onto the pile of clothes.

I move to the railing, stepping into the heated water. A sharp breath escapes as the warmth collides with my cooler skin. I gather my hair into a loose bun, securing it away from my face.

Zane follows, never taking his eyes off me as he strips off his shirt, then his jeans, leaving his underwear for last. His hard length bobs against his stomach, and I reach for him before he can fully step into the water.

Wrapping my hand around his cock, I stroke him slowly.

“Jesus, Wy, what are you doing?”

I grin, leaning forward to swipe my tongue along the swollen head. “What does it look like?”

His fingers tangle in my hair, his grip firm as he thrusts into my mouth. A guttural groan escapes him, his head tipping back.

“Fuck, that feels good. Keep that up, and I won’t last long enough to be inside you.”

I hum around him, taking him deeper, my hand working in sync with each movement. His grip tightens in my hair, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Then, he cups my chin, tilting my head back until our eyes lock. His dark stare is intense, filled with something primal.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, his voice rough with need.

I do, sticking out my tongue. His eyes flash. Then he spits.

A moan rips from my throat as heat floods my body.

“You like that?” He does it again. “Use it. Get me nice and wet before I fuck you in this hot tub.”

I don’t hesitate, taking him back into my mouth and dragging my tongue along his length.

His hands find my hair again, his hips thrusting as his breath comes in short pants. “Fuck, Wy.”

I work him harder, my grip firm, my tongue teasing, until he jerks my head back, his eyes blazing.

“I need to be inside you. Now.”

He pulls me into the water, guiding me until I kneel on the seat, my back pressed to his chest. His hands roam over my body, slow and deliberate, mapping every curve as he positions me exactly how he wants me.

A sharp inhale escapes me when his fingers tighten around my hips, his grip firm but reverent. The thick head of his cock presses at my entrance, teasing, stretching.

“Stay just like that,” he rasps against my ear, his breath hot against my damp skin. “Not gonna last long, baby, but I need to feel you now.”

When he thrusts inside, I moan, my body stretching to take him. His arms wrap around me, pinning me to his chest.

“Let me feel you squeeze my dick, firecracker.”

His hands move to my breasts, kneading as he thrusts into me. The water swirls around us, our movements slow but deep, every stroke sending pleasure through my veins.

As I tighten around him, he groans, burying his face in my neck.

We fall apart together, his hold never loosening, his breath ragged against my skin.

And as my heartbeat slows, one thought settles deep in my chest—I will never get enough of this man.