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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

COLLINS

T he rumble of Sawyer’s truck as it pulls up along the sidewalk fires off the tingles I’ve learned to embrace these past couple of months. They no longer represent a warning to back off and protect my space and freedom, but instead, they feel like a promise of excitement and a future I hope to share with my two favorite people.

Since we made us official, I’ve found myself falling deeper and harder for Sawyer, and the way I care for Ezra feels a lot like a love I never thought possible.

Not for me, anyway.

It’s the kind of love where you’d do anything for that person—walk across broken glass or burning embers and lay yourself down in oncoming traffic before anything hurt them. Perhaps one that transcends friendship into something more complicated. The truth is, if Ezra saw me as a motherly figure beyond what he already has with Alyssa, I wouldn’t freak out.

It feels like my days of freaking out at any kind of commitment are being left behind in a trail of exhaust fumes while my life accelerates in a way that doesn’t feel at all unnatural.

“You already started?” Ezra stands in the entrance to my garage, arms folded across his chest in a huff.

“Well, merry Christmas to you too, Mr. Grinch,” I volley back, tossing a microfiber cloth, which he catches. “Anyway, I saved you the best part.”

He nods and approaches, offering me a fist bump, which I reciprocate. “Detailing is definitely the best bit,” Ezra agrees, quickly kneeling beside my bike and getting to work.

Hands on my hips, I stand, watching him for a few beats before Sawyer appears, wearing a red Santa hat, black jeans, and a gray winter coat.

I burst out laughing and race toward him. We already wished each other a merry Christmas over the phone, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to steal a quick kiss.

I tip my chin up at the ceiling, mistletoe hanging from the roof. “How about a quick?—”

Instantly, I’m wrapped in his big bearlike arms, the safety and comfort of them daring me to fall a little harder for my boyfriend.

“Ewww! Okay, okay, can you stop kissing now? You guys are so uncool and gross sometimes,” Ezra announces, throwing in a gag to accentuate his point.

I spin around to face him, Sawyer’s arms draped over my shoulders. “I guess you won’t want your ‘uncool and gross’ gift then, will you?”

He perks up at that, leaping straight to his feet and setting the microfiber on the wooden dresser at the back of my garage. “No, I definitely want the gift.” He smiles wryly. “Did you guys get me a black CVO?”

I scoff and look up at Sawyer. “No, I got you a present myself. And when you see it, I think you might take back what you said about me being uncool.”

Sawyer hums in agreement, setting a kiss on top of my head. “I think he definitely will, Baby Girl.”

I shrug out from under his arms and head over to the back, pulling a large, flat gift wrapped in blue paper from the top of a storage chest.

Sawyer comes to stand by Ezra. He has zero clue what it is, but clearly has faith in my gift-buying abilities.

I hand it to Ezra, who hesitates for all of half a second before tearing into the tissue paper.

“Oh.” He turns the white box around in his hands, still no clue what I got him.

“Open it up then,” I urge him, way too excited myself.

“Wait.” He pauses when he starts to register what it is. “Is this …”

He slides the sign all the way out and drops the empty box to the floor, frantically pushing back the bubble wrap. “Is this …” he yells.

“It is!” I squeak. “I figured it would look so cool in your bedroom!”

He doesn’t say anything, wrapping his free arm around my waist, holding me tight. I swear my heart inflates until it’s pressing against my rib cage.

“What does it say?” Sawyer asks, taking the sign from Ezra. “ BikerBryce .” His voice softens to a whisper. “Collins, this is really sweet of you.”

“Best gift ever,” Ezra confidently confirms, finally releasing his arm and giving me the chance to show him his second gift.

In an attempt to hide it, I deliberately kept my BikerCollins sign off when they arrived. And as I flick it on, a replica of the sign I just gave him also lights up, and Ezra looks from me to the illuminated wall.

“You put me on your wall! Like as a partner?”

I nod and tip my head up to look at them, situated perfectly next to each other in neon blue and red. “I did. Bikers for life.”

* * *

I’m winning at Monopoly, and it’s really fucking awkward.

Alyssa and Dom went bust around an hour ago, and both retreated to the couch to read, which is probably the safest place to be right now because I have two bratty boys sitting opposite me.

“Go to jail! Again?!” Ezra huffs, petulantly throwing his arms out.

I grimace when Sawyer throws a six and lands on Park Place.

“That’s …” I calculate how much he owes.

Mirroring his son, he sits back in his chair, grumbling, “It’s way more than I can afford, is what it is.”

I fight back the urge to laugh. I might be falling hard for this man, but winding him up is still my favorite thing to do. “I do offer competitive mortgage rates, if that’s a viable option for you?”

He narrows his eyes and squeezes his lips together. “Don’t start, Mackenzie.”

“I think she cheated,” Ezra speculatively adds.

“Definitely,” Sawyer agrees.

“Highlights from your game against Boston are on,” Dom shouts across at us.

Sawyer swivels around in his chair as Ezra leaves the table and makes his way over to join Alyssa and Dom on the couch, picking up a Harley-Davidson model kit they bought him. His gifts this year are following a trend.

“Do you want your gift now or later?” Sawyer asks me, packing the board game away. The mischievous smile on his face tells me whatever he got probably isn’t suitable to be opened in company.

Funny, because neither is the gift I got him.

“Maybe in a while,” I say, resting my elbows on the table and winking.

When he winks back, I feel its effects all the way to my toes. I don’t think there will ever be a time when he doesn’t make me feel sixteen again.

Sawyer turns to watch the highlights but quickly looks away, wincing.

“What’s up?” I ask, my mood shifting from giddy to concerned.

When he closes the lid on the Monopoly box, I see something flash in his eyes that I don’t like. I can’t decipher it exactly, but it makes me want to climb across the table and pull the feeling out of him.

He motions to the highlights still playing on the TV. “Just that power play in the third. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have let their winger turn me over the way he did. I felt a length behind and was powerless to catch up.” He runs a rough hand through his hair, tattooed forearms flexing.

“You look to be in pretty good shape to me,” I jest, desperate to lighten his mood.

He just shrugs—one that, for once, isn’t playful or mocking me. “I guess I can’t help my mind as it drifts to thoughts of how much longer I have in the game, you know?” His green eyes find me. “Or how much longer I can go before I’m having serious talks with Coach and the GM about where the C should end up.”

“You don’t want to be captain anymore?”

He sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. “I’m not ready to give it up yet, but I don’t want to be that player who retires, still wearing the C. I think I want to play more of a mentor role if I can.”

I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine, the roughness of his palm a reminder of how hard this guy works. “You actually aren’t that old—you do know that, right?”

He chuckles and brushes his thumb across the top of my hand. “I am, Baby Girl. I’ll be thirty-six next year. You bagged yourself a pensioner,” he jokes.

“Do you feel ready to hang up your skates?” I feel like I can relate to him way more than the average person. Sure, I retired from motocross for different reasons, but I still had to make the call that was right for me and kiss goodbye to an all-encompassing lifestyle.

He twists his lips to the side, tipping his head over to look at Ezra, who continues to work on his bike model. “Not right now, but time flies. I remember when I was feeding him in the middle of the night, and now he’s in middle school and growing up fast. Hockey takes me away from him more than I’d like. More than I should be.”

“Y-you know you have me too now though, right?”

He squeezes my hand, so much warmth and meaning in his eyes. “I’ve waited a long-ass time for you to say that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable with softer Collins. I have to keep you on your toes.”

In my peripheral vision, I see Ezra fighting back a yawn. It’s been a long day, like most Christmases are.

I tip my head toward the window behind me. “I think Ezra’s dragging.”

We both stare at each other for a few beats.

“Come home with me?” he asks—four words I’ve rejected way more than I ever wanted to.

I run my tongue across my bottom lip, his gift already playing out in my mind. “I don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else.”