Page 8 of Under the Lights (The Big Boys of BRU #2)

Seven

Dom

Squinting, I opened my eyes before instantly shutting them again. I must not have closed the curtain properly because the blinding sunlight fell through a crack and directly onto my face.

Groaning, I rolled over, arm outstretched, searching for Sierra’s warm body.

Shit, I still had plans for her, but I guess we were both so exhausted that we didn’t wake up again. Shame, really . I’d been looking forward to waking her up with my head between her legs.

I groped around blindly on the other side of the bed until I reached the edge of the mattress. Empty. Cold.

I snapped my eyes open and scanned the room, straining to catch the faintest sound.

Could she be in the bathroom?

Then, all at once, reality burst into my consciousness. There were no sounds, none of her things anywhere in the room — no Sierra .

I sat up and scrubbed my face with one hand. The sterile chill of the room pressed in around me — all bland beige walls, industrial carpet, and hotel artwork no one ever really looked at.

I dropped my head back against the padded headboard and stared up at the white ceiling, where a faint water stain hovered just off-center like it was mocking me.

She’d snuck out. Disappointment sat heavy as a stone in the pit of my stomach, even though my rational side suggested that this affair was never going anywhere anyway.

At least not right now. Lifting my head back up, I ran my fingers through my hair and looked down at my lap.

I hadn’t expected to feel this way. Hell, I wasn’t sure what I had expected. When I’d imagined this recruiting trip, I thought there’d be attractive college girls and maybe some flirting. I thought there might be a casual hookup or two.

But I hadn’t imagined her. Not Sierra . Not this infatuation that took root overnight and refused to let go.

Still sprawled on the bed, I stared at the ink stretched over my forearms. Tracing the familiar lines with my eyes, I let them ground me while my thoughts spun faster than I liked.

One night would have to do. For now.

The disappointment bit deep, sharp, and unexpected. Beneath it though, something darker bloomed. Determination. Purpose.

She didn’t know who I really was. And that had been the right call. If I’d told her, I might’ve ruined the one clean shot I’ll ever get with her. Now, she’d remember me the way I wanted her to.

No baggage, no pressure. Just that connection, that chemistry.

When I came back here in the fall, the deck would be reshuffled. I’d be where I was always meant to be — on that field, in that jersey. Closer to her.

And then? Then I’d do it right. I’d take my time. Play the long game.

I’d make her see that one night hadn’t been enough for either of us.

All I had to do was wait.

Easy, right?

***

Although it was only April, the air was thick with the sticky promise of an early Georgia summer. It was already heavy with humidity that clung to my skin like a second layer.

Even in this small town I’d called home my whole life, the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the delicate, fleeting sweetness of dogwood blossoms. The distant buzz of cicadas had just begun its nightly chorus.

I’d been back for days, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. What started as infatuation was twisting into something darker — an obsession I couldn’t control. Sierra was everywhere.

In my thoughts, in every quiet moment, in every shadow, every stolen second that should’ve been mine to think straight. The best night of my life was probably just a blip on her radar.

Maybe I was losing it. Maybe I was already too far gone. I knew I had no right to be disappointed, but the truth was, it didn’t matter. Nothing I could do now wouldn’t push her even further away.

Depressing.

As promised, I had committed to brU, a decision that came as no surprise to the people who really knew me. Of course, I’d tried to squeeze the most out of the recruiting trip — toured the campus, sat in on a couple of classes, even hit the weight room with the team for an unofficial lift.

They ran me through a few drills, nothing formal, but enough to get a feel for their pace, their grit.

Before leaving with Sierra that night, I spent just enough time with the team to see what their brotherhood looked like off the field. I’d watched how they moved, how they talked, how they treated each other. That told me more than any coach’s pitch ever could.

But truthfully? I’d known for a long time that this school would be my choice if I ever got the shot.

I raked a hand through my hair, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel like the rhythm might keep me grounded.

My eyes stayed fixed on the parking lot and the familiar faces that suddenly felt like strangers. I’d always been one of the oldest in my class, but now the gap felt wider, as if I’d crossed a line no one else had noticed.

That trip hadn’t been some noble epiphany. It wasn’t clarity.

Fuck, who was I kidding? I might have been able to bullshit just about anyone else, but not myself. Not even I was that good.

It was her. Sierra . Sharp-tongued, unapologetic, and addictive as hell.

She didn’t just ruin me; she redefined me. Now I was stuck in limbo, pretending to relate to people who cared about prom drama and who was hooking up with whom. Meanwhile, I sat there wondering if she ever thought about that night as hard as I did.

I couldn’t bear it anymore. Before I knew what I was doing, my phone was back in my hand, her IG profile on my screen. Just like the other countless times since, I’d woken up that morning in a deserted bed in an empty hotel room.

Considering all the information I’d gathered about her, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to find her. One visit to the brU website, and I found her headshot on the roster of the women’s volleyball team.

No big deal. Neither was the fact that I could recite her information off the top of my head.

Sierra Johansson, Outside Hitter, Sophomore, 6 ft, #97

And she still had no fucking idea who I really was, while she was traipsing through my head rent-free 24/7.

You brought this on yourself, asshole. What did you think would happen?

I shook my head as I scrolled through her pictures. Every single one was perfect. Not just because she was perfect, but every one of those pictures was perfectly staged. Not a hair out of place, flawless makeup, clothes to match.

A far cry from the bratty girl with wavy, wet hair and slightly smudged mascara that I’d gotten to know.

It was this contradiction I wanted more of — that had me hooked like a fucking junkie. I wanted to discover every facet of her.

I could handle her defiance and prickly behavior in public—but I wanted to be the one to break down her walls. To uncover the soft side I knew was buried deep inside her.

Graduation couldn’t come fast enough.

This town with its peeling paint, familiar faces, and suffocating expectations, felt more like a cage than ever before. What used to feel like home now felt like a place I was outgrowing by the second.