Page 36

Zane ~ One Year Later

“Go long!” Beckham’s voice carries over the rolling waves just before something smacks into my shoulder.

Water splashes as I pivot, turning toward the open ocean. Hayes pops up from beneath the surface, sputtering, while Beckham grins a few feet away, mischief written all over his face.

Colter stands in front of me, arms crossed, his expression amused.

“Here, I thought you had a better arm than that, Carver,” I call out, shaking my head. “Guess you’ve gotten rusty living in the dirty D.”

Beckham scoffs, opening his mouth to fire back, but before he gets the chance, Colter plucks the ball from where it bobs on the surface and launches it back with a perfect spiral. Beckham lunges, throwing himself into a full dive, crashing into the waves as he tries to recover it.

I chuckle, shaking my head, but the sound fades as I glance toward the beach.

The moment we landed in Cabo yesterday, something in me exhaled—a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding since the season ended.

We needed this—time away, a break from the constant grind. A chance to breathe, to shed the weight of expectations that press down on us every damn day.

The salty breeze rolls off the ocean, thick and warm, carrying the faint scent of sunscreen and fresh citrus from the bar up the beach. The sun hangs high in the sky, casting golden light over the turquoise waves, which break lazily against the shore. The air is heavy with heat, but the cool water swirling around my waist keeps my body refreshed.

This is the kind of reset I’ve been needing.

The past year in San Francisco has been a whirlwind. Coming in as a rookie, I didn’t know what to expect. The transition wasn’t easy—going from a guy who started every game to one who had to fight for a spot each week. Our coach rotated through receivers, trying to lock down the best fit. It put Hayes and me in a tough position, both competing for the same role.

But by midseason, things clicked. Our quarterback started trusting us more, and when Hayes and I finally secured our spots, we didn’t let go.

I blink, shaking off the thoughts as my attention drifts back to the shoreline.

Wyatt is stretched out on a lounge chair with the girls, the golden sun highlighting her skin. She’s lying on her stomach, propped on her elbows, laughing at something Everly said. Her wild curls are pulled into a loose bun, tendrils escaping to frame her face.

She packed light, but when she pulled out that cotton-candy-colored swimsuit—the same one I got her for her birthday over a year ago—I knew I was screwed.

It’s impossible not to look at her.

Colter’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “How are things with you and Wyatt?”

I glance at him. I knew this conversation was coming.

When I got drafted, Wyatt made it clear she was coming with me. It wasn’t even up for discussion. Colter hadn’t loved the idea. Neither had her mom. I think they hoped she’d stay in Braysen, finish school, and keep her roots planted there.

But Wyatt wasn’t staying behind. And I wasn’t leaving without her.

“She’s good,” I say, raking a hand through my damp hair. “Took the summer off but applied for an internship at ESPN and Sports Illustrated. Should hear back soon.”

Colter nods, looking toward the girls again. “That’s good. Ava’s been going stir-crazy since she finished school. She’s so used to going nonstop that now she doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

I smirk. “Yeah, Wyatt was the same way at first. The season keeps me busy, but having Everly in San Fran has helped. She’s had someone to hang out with when I’m gone.”

We talk for a few more minutes, the conversation shifting to training camp, upcoming schedules, and how fast the summer is slipping away.

The sun beats down, my skin heating beneath its rays. Dragging my hands through the water, I cup some up, running it over my shoulders before wading toward the shore.

Wyatt barely notices me at first, still caught up in her conversation.

I can’t resist.

Flicking a handful of water toward her, I grin as she flinches, startled. Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing when she finds me standing over her.

“Can I help you?” she challenges.

Grabbing the towel from the bag she brought, I shake it out and spread it beside her, collapsing onto the sand. Leaning in, I brush my lips against her ear.

“Actually, you can,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing. “What did I tell you about looking so damn good out here? We were supposed to head to dinner soon, but I think we need to make a detour upstairs first.”

Wyatt keeps her focus on Everly, pretending to ignore me, but I see the way goose bumps rise on her arms despite the heat.

“You want that, baby?” I hum, my fingers skimming along her spine, tracing the delicate curve of her back. Her breath catches. She nods—barely noticeable, but I catch it.

Yeah. That’s all I need.

I shift, adjusting myself because I don’t need Colter catching on to how badly I want to strip her down and make her mine right here in the sand.

Still, the scent of coconut sunscreen mixed with citrus and honeysuckle floods my senses, making my restraint damn near impossible.

“Tell the girls you want to rinse off before dinner,” I whisper, lips grazing her ear. “I’ll be quick.”

Wyatt scoffs. “Quick?”

I smirk. “Fine. Maybe not quick. But we can kill two birds with one stone by showering together. I can fuck you against that glass wall.”

Her body tenses, and then slowly, she turns her head, shifting onto her other arm, finally looking at me.

She doesn’t try to hide the way her gaze drags over me, lingering on my chest, my arms, my abs.

Even after all this time, she still looks at me like she did when we were kids—like she doesn’t know what the hell to do with herself when I’m near.

And I love it.

“If you like what you see,” I tease, waggling my brows, “just wait until we get upstairs.”

Wyatt bites her lip, shaking her head, but the slight flush in her cheeks tells me everything I need to know.

Yeah.

We’re definitely making that detour.

She exhales, shaking her head with a knowing smile, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she pushes up onto her elbows, stretching like she’s thinking about it, before turning back to the girls.

“I think I’m gonna rinse off before dinner,” she says casually, brushing sand from her arm.

Everly smirks, not buying it for a second. “Mm-hmm. Sure.”

Tatum snickers. “You two are so predictable.”

Wyatt rolls her eyes, but I catch the way her lips twitch.

“Enjoy your rinse,” Everly adds, winking at me.

Wyatt groans, but I don’t even pretend to care. I’m already on my feet, reaching for her hand and tugging her up with me.

She lets me pull her toward the hotel, our friends’ laughter trailing us, but I don’t look back. My focus is solely on her—the way her skin is still sun-warmed beneath my touch and the way her breath hitches as I lean in close.

“I hope you realize,” I murmur against her ear, my lips grazing the shell of it, “the only thing getting soaked is you.”

Wyatt shivers, her grip tightening around my fingers.

The moment we step into the hotel, the cool air-conditioning barely registers against my heated skin. The elevator ride is slow—painfully so. I stand behind her, my chest pressing against her back, fingers brushing up the inside of her wrist. Every shift of her body makes my restraint slip a little more.

I feel her pulse hammering beneath my fingertips.

She exhales softly, eyes locking onto mine in the reflection of the mirrored doors.

“You’re staring,” she murmurs, tilting her chin just slightly.

I smirk. “Can you blame me?”

The ding of the elevator is the only warning before I hook an arm around her waist and guide her toward our room. Wyatt laughs under her breath, her body pliant against me, but I catch the way her pupils dilate, the way she subtly licks her lips.

She wants this just as much as I do.

The moment the door clicks shut behind us, I turn her in my arms, my hands finding her hips. The hotel room is flooded with golden light from the floor-to-ceiling windows, the ocean stretching endlessly beyond the glass, but all I see is her.

“You were saying something about a rinse?” she teases, her voice husky.

I hum, dragging my fingers down her spine, feeling the shiver that rolls through her. “I changed my mind.”

Wyatt tilts her head, arching a brow. “Oh? About what?”

“I think I’d rather taste you first.”

Her breath hitches just as I grip the back of her thighs, lifting her into my arms. She barely has time to react before I walk us toward the bathroom, flicking on the light. Steam from earlier still clings to the air, curling around us like it knows exactly what’s coming.

Instead of turning on the shower, I set her down on the cool counter, my hands already working at the ties of her bikini. The contrast of her warm skin against the cold surface makes her shiver, and I watch as goose bumps trail down her arms.

“Zane...” Her voice is barely above a whisper, her fingers curling against my shoulders.

I meet her gaze. “Tell me how bad you need me.”

Her lips part, and I don’t give her the chance to answer before I slide my hands up her thighs, parting them with a slow, deliberate drag of my fingers.

Her breath shudders, and she grips my shoulders, nails digging in.

“I always need you,” she admits. “It’s never enough.”

And as I sink to my knees, as her back arches, her breath a soft, desperate gasp, I realize there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep Wyatt right here—

Falling apart for me.

***

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