Page 51 of Double Play
“Hell yeah, we did,hermoso,” I shout.
His mouth twitches and he mouths, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I mouth back, and his face softens in a way that makes something tight in my chest loosen. He tilts his forehead to mine quickly, like he’s not trying to perform it for anyone, just reminding me.
Us.
Still us.
Always us.
I let my thumbs press into his sides once before I set him down because the world exists again, and it’s full of people and angles and consequences. But even as he steps away, his hand drags down my arm, fingers catching mine for half a second.
A promise in passing.
The clubhouse afterward is the usual storm.
Music too loud. Guys yelling. Jerseys half off. Tape getting ripped. Someone blasting a playlist that’s half hype songs and half whatever Brooks insists is “vibes.” The win has the whole room glowing, loose, and cocky in the way only athletes get when the work pays off.
Kai is loud, grinning, already talking about going out for drinks like it’s a victory lap written into his contract.
“We’re going out,” he announces like he owns the city.
“It’s Texas,” Gael groans. “I really don’t feel like fighting some cowboy you’ll inevitably piss off.”
Kai points at him. “I promised my wife no fighting. So you're safe.”
Adriana isn’t here, obviously, but Gael still pulls out his phone to send her a video of our post-game chaos, his smilesoftening when he sees her name on the screen. Kai sends Isla a selfie with a caption I don’t need to read to know it’s obscene. He’s that kind of husband.
Jackson sits next to me at his locker, quiet for once, drinking water slowly, his fingers tapping a rhythm against his thigh like he’s still buzzing with adrenaline.
I watch his body, and he catches me looking.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, voice low, like he knows what’s in my head.
“Numbers?” I ask anyway.
He sighs dramatically like I’m ruining his fun. “One-sixty. Flat arrow.”
Relief loosens my jaw. “I like it. The adjustments are working.”
“You’re hot when you worry about me.” Jackson leans closer, mouth near my ear. “Does my man feel like going back to our hotel room and celebrating?”
I keep my face neutral because the clubhouse is full of wolves and idiots. But I let my hand slide to his knee and squeeze once.
“Eat something,” I murmur, unbuttoning my jersey and tugging my tank top over my head.
He grins. “Mmm, I’d rather eat you.”
Do not pop a boner in this locker room, Dre.
Look anywhere except over at your six-foot-blond kryptonite, who’s currently eye-fucking you.
My breath comes out slowly and he laughs, eyes bright, and for a second I see it again. That shift in him since we stopped hiding. Like he’s letting himself be held in the light instead of only in shadows.
“Alright, you sexy sons of bitches. Hotel and showers. Change into something not embarrassing and meet in the lobby.” Kai claps his hands together.
“Aw, Vaughn, did your wife give you permission to go out and play?” Sean chuckles before throwing a towel at him.
