Page 36 of Under the Lights (The Big Boys of BRU #2)

Twenty Nine

Sierra

We slipped into a routine. He started showing up most nights — sometimes while I was still awake, sometimes after I’d already fallen asleep. I liked it better that way.

Made it easier to pretend this was nothing more than a casual thing, to keep him neatly boxed in the hookup category. And being woken up with his dick pumping into me was an added bonus.

But despite the fact that both our schedules were packed, he somehow was always there. Always. I had no idea how he did it, if he had some sixth sense, or if my life had just turned into one long string of coincidences.

On my way across campus? There he was “bumping into me” and walking me to my next class.

After practice? He just happened to finish his lift session and offered me a ride home.

At my games? “Just showing support for my girl,” he’d say with that infuriating grin. Still hadn’t managed to get him to stop calling me that.

It was fine, though. He was just being clingy. Puppy love, maybe. Eventually, he’d get bored — sick of my prickly ways, all my walls, and my tendency to pull away. This thing would burn out.

More than once I thought about trying to put an end to this, pushing him away, only to realize that deep down, it wasn’t what I wanted.

I told him not to catch feelings.

He just smirked and said, “Sure.”

But when I woke up to find my favorite drink — perfectly made — in the fridge after he left for morning practice, those damn butterflies always fluttered. They didn’t care about temporary.

And every time he came to one of my games, keeping his gaze locked on me, meeting mine whenever I looked up, I couldn’t help but light up inside.

And when I caught him staring at me, his eyes burning so intensely they might as well set me aflame, my chest ached.

And I convinced myself that was enough — that I’d been honest, that if he got hurt, it wasn’t on me. I let myself enjoy the way he showed up for me. Just a little.

Allowed myself to enjoy experiencing what it could be like to have that kind of support.

Even if it was just temporary.

Could only be temporary.

***

A crisp fall breeze blew stray wisps of hair, which had escaped my messy braids, into my face. Amidst a sea of suds, exuberant shrieks, and unbridled chaos, I basked in the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun caressing my back.

It was still warm enough during the day to walk around in shorts, but once the sun set, it got cool really fast.

The girls’ volleyball team I coached was hosting a fundraiser car wash, and we’ve had a blast all day. I loved being able to do things like this with them and show them support. Water droplets streaked down my legs as I laughed.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted, “Kayla, that’s not how we treat the windshield wipers!”

The culprit dumped a sponge in the bucket with a loud splash, grinning from ear to ear.

This was the one part of my week when the world went quiet. Where no one expected me to be anything but who I already was.

“Coach, look! I made a rainbow in the soap!”

I snorted. “You’re Michelangelo, Lila. Just… don’t paint the headlights again, please.”

A prickling sensation in the back of my neck made me pause. I straightened up abruptly, my gaze sweeping from side to side as I tried to locate the source of this strange tingling feeling.

A ripple of energy went through the girls’ excited squeals.

“Oooooh, who’s that?”

“Coach Sierra, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s tall! He looks like a Marvel hero.”

I whipped around just in time to see Dom striding across the lot with Jax and another football player in tow. They were all wearing practice shorts and exuding an air of smug confidence.

“Thought you ladies could use some muscle.” Dom flashed his everlasting smirk and proceeded to pull a sponge from Lila’s bucket, as if he’d been invited.

I narrowed my eyes. “Do you ever knock before barging into my life?”

“Didn’t bring a door,” he grinned.

The girls giggled. Of fucking course they’d find him funny.

Valentina shuffled over and handed him a squirt bottle with a command. “Get the bugs off the Jeep!”

Even I would have been taken aback by that little girl’s attitude. How could a nine-year-old pull off this no-nonsense voice already?

Dom quirked an amused brow, then saluted. “Yes, Ma’am.”

I hadn’t been prepared for the chaos breaking out upon their arrival. Jax got sprayed in the face barely two minutes in. The shenanigans that ensued resulted in multiple people slipping in soap.

Dom lifted one of my girls up so she could reach the sunroof. Then he promptly used her as a sponge, which resulted in lots of shrieks and giggles.

I tried not to smile but failed — miserably. Dom snuck a sideways glance at me and caught me red-handed. His eyes softened, and the smile he offered in return was nothing short of dizzying.

He shouldn’t be allowed to look at me like that — not here, not where I felt most like myself, where most of my walls were down. It wasn’t fair that he fit so easily into the life I was trying so hard to protect.

I spun on my heel, forcing my gaze away from him and his happy adorableness. Furiously wiping a car dry, I tried to appear busy. But it wasn’t long before I felt a presence behind me, big and imposing.

He sidled up behind me, handing me a fresh rag.

“You missed a spot,” he teased.

I snorted. “You are the missed spot.”

“And yet, you still let me show up.” His voice was dripping with smugness.

I huffed but couldn’t bring myself to deny it. Or to step away. He was standing so close, I could feel the heat from his body seeping into my skin.

Splash!

Cold water and suds dripped down our bodies. We turned as one and gaped. Two of the girls threw soapy sponges at us, while Jax, the clear instigator, stood behind them, doubled over with laughter.

“Coach Sierra, you’re blushing!” One of them giggled, delighted.

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Quickly turning my head, I stopped my hands from shooting up to my face to hide my cheeks. Denial only got you so far when you could feel the heat literally crawling up your neck.

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Dom growled playfully, lunged at the girls, caught them around the waist, and carried them off as if they weighed nothing.

“Y’all are gonna pay for that,” he exclaimed, playing the perfect villain.

“No! Put us down!”

“Never!”

I only took my eyes off them when someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked to pay for our services.

When I turned back around, the girls had apparently made a deal with Dom because they were now chasing Jax. Each girl was armed with a dripping sponge, and Dom stood to the side, laughing maniacally.

I watched Dom high-five the girls when they finally got Jax, all of them soaked to the bone now. It wasn’t until my cheeks began to hurt that I realized I’d been smiling like a lunatic the whole time.

Fuck me. I didn’t want him to leave.

The fundraiser wrapped up not too long after that. The sun had dipped lower, turning the pavement gold and making the water glisten like spilled glitter.

Most of the girls were chasing each other around with empty buckets, high on sugar and victory.

We had a great turnout, and they were proud of themselves. I leaned against the back of a car, wringing out a sponge into a half-empty bucket.

My shirt clung to my ribs, soaked through in most places. My cheeks were flushed—from the sun, from the effort, or from something I wasn’t willing to name.

Dom stepped up beside me, his hoodie slung over one shoulder now, the rest of his clothes as soaked as mine.

“You know,” he said, his voice deeper, quieter than before, “I’ve seen you light up before. On the court. When you’re pissed. But this? With them?”

He looked out at the girls laughing in the foam. “This is different. You’re good. With them, I mean. You make them feel seen. That’s rare. You don’t just coach. You believe in them. And they believe in you.”

I sucked in a breath and didn’t respond for a long moment. The butterflies in my stomach were going fucking crazy.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I murmured, refusing to look at him.

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me want to believe you.”

That stopped him. He froze, rooted to the spot.

I turned to face him, and something in his expression made my insides go all gooey. There was the familiar heat in his gaze, but underneath that was something more vulnerable, something soft.

He searched my face for something I wasn’t sure he would ever find. For a moment, though, I let him see me. I allowed myself to keep those walls down.

“You keep… showing up,” I said, my voice soft and husky. “In places you don’t belong. And the worst part was, it never feels wrong. It just feels easy.”

Dom seemed to consider my words for a second. “Maybe that’s because it is easy. You just keep trying to make it hard.”

Letting out a shaky breath, I shook my head and broke that connection to look down at my feet. “It scares the hell out of me how right this feels.”

He moved in closer, close enough that his voice was almost a vibration against my skin.

“Then stop running from it. Just for today. Let yourself have something good.”

My eyes flicked up to meet his again — and lingered.

“One day,” I admitted quietly, “you’re gonna walk away. And it’s going to hurt like hell. And I’m the one who let you in.”

He smiled, but it was smaller this time. Honest.

“I’m already in, Darlin’.”

Then, without ceremony, he reached under his arm and held out a folded shirt to me. Worn cotton, plain black, and still dry.

“You’re gonna freeze on the ride back,” he said, like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just pulled that out like he’d planned it.

I looked at it, then at him. “Did you seriously bring a spare, just in case I turned into a drowned rat?”

He smirked, one side of his mouth tugging up in that annoyingly charming way. “Maybe.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, snatching the shirt from his hand and turning away so he wouldn’t see the way my lips betrayed me with a smile.

My heart had no business skipping the way it did, but it did anyway, stupid thing.

I turned away to pull it on. After peeling off the sopping wet top I’d been wearing, I let the fabric slide over my damp skin. It clung in places, but it was warm — warmer than it should’ve been.

And it smelled like him. Fuck .

“You’re welcome,” he said, grinning like he knew exactly what he’d done.

“Don’t make this a thing,” I warned, even though I was already memorizing the way the cotton settled over my skin like it belonged there.

Too late. It was already a thing.

And then, a voice behind us broke the spell.

“Coach! She sprayed the bucket at me!”

“Well, she called me a soggy muffin first!”

Clearing my throat, I straightened. Pretended I hadn’t just shown him every soft place in my armor.

But Dom didn’t stop watching me. And I didn’t ask him to.