Page 124 of Cruel Steps

“Oh, are you a psych major all of a sudden?”

“Hell, no. People suck. Animals are much better. And Mer pegged you right. You’re a German Shepard.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not this shit again. Your boss is a kook, Colt.” Emerson had drawn a dog for her portrait of me in class, stating how I was loyal and protective.

“Sandy might be eccentric, but she’s not a kook. And her theory is sound. Though?—”

“Can you get to the point and quit with the dog psychology?”

“Fine. Only because Mer is sending me a video, and I want some private time.” My skin heated, and my cock took notice, twitching at the thought of Emerson. “The only true thing was that Mer and I are great together.”

“Perfect. Now go and live your life happily and leave me alone.” I gritted my teeth. I didn’t need him rubbing it in.

“Simmer down, Shep. We are great together, but the three of us would be amazing. You think you don’t know how to be in a relationship, but you’ve had one with me for years. Yes, it’s not sexual, but it’s a relationship. Stop being so scared, tell her how you feel, and then we can kick even more ass at football because you won’t be brooding as much.”

“I’m not brooding.”

He rolled his eyes. “Says the brooder. Of course, that was the only thing you heard.” He sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m done trying to convince you to pull the stick out of your ass. This is your moment, Hol. If you don’t seize it, you’re gonna lose her forever. She’s about to close the door on you, and I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t put up with your hot and cold attitude, either.”

Anger roared, and I barely held myself back from throwing the phone. But I wasn’t mad at Colter—it was at myself.

“Nothing in life is guaranteed, man. You’ve spent most of yours preparing for the NFL, but you still might not make it. Or you might get injured at training camp. Or you might have one of the best careers in the league. Who the fuck knows? That’s the point. No one knows the future. But if you fear what could happen, you miss out on everything happening now. The three of us… that’s a fucking fantastic dream, Hol. My best friend and best girl.” He sighed wistfully until his phone dinged, and his eyes heated. “And there’s my gift. Make a choice. In or out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up before I could respond, and I sat there staring at the blank screen for a few minutes. The memory of her dancing that first night and how drawn I’d been to her raced through my mind. I might not deserve her; I might fuck it up, but even fighting with Wildcat had been better than anything else in my life.

Losing her… fear wrapped around my midsection and didn’t let go. Suddenly, I couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough.

I barreled into the house, coming to a stop after my abrupt entrance. A movie played on the TV, and Hope lay on the couch under a blanket. She looked up when I entered. I should probably check if she needed anything, but now that I’d made up my mind, I didn’t want to waste a second.

“About time.”

Her words halted my steps, and I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“I saw you wrestling with your thoughts in the truck. You love her, Holden. Stop wasting time.”

I gaped at her. Was she for real? “I thought you hated her?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I only hated that she had the life I wanted. Emerson’s a good person. She’s good for you.”

“Thanks?”

Hope laughed, and I softened. It had been such a long time since we’d hung out this much that I’d forgotten what her laugh sounded like. I cleared my throat. “You need anything?”

“Just some noise-canceling headphones.”

“What?” I chuckled.

Hope shook her head. “Nothing. Go. I’m just going to turn this movie up really loud.”

I blushed. God. When had I ever blushed before?

Hope hit the volume, and I took it as my cue that I was dismissed. Quickly, I climbed the stairs two at a time, but then hesitated at the door. Should I head in or knock? Screw it. I shoved open the door and stared into the room. The sofa bed was still upright, and I looked away, not wanting to be reminded how close I’d been to losing a limb in that death trap.

Emerson wasn’t in the bed, but the sound of the shower filtered from under the bathroom door. Locking the door behind me, I stripped out of my suit and padded toward the last remaining door between me and my Wildcat.

I didn’t know why bathrooms had become such a focal point of our relationship, but they had. It felt fitting that this would take place here, too.

Steam billowed out of the bathroom when I opened the door. Emerson had her back to me as she hummed along to a song in her head. She did that a lot. She’d hum and sway to it like her body couldn’t stand not to be dancing. I devoured the sight of her naked backside, watching how the water sluiced over her skin.

---