Page 44 of (Un)Rivaled

“Ugh,” I groaned as I crossed into the front hallway. I kicked off my boots and placed my coat on the hook. Why did this have to be so difficult? Once upon a time, I trusted Gray with my life, but our history had twisted into this brittle, painful thing. I pushed out a breath. Maybe that was where we needed to start—as friends, see if the bond we’d had as kids was still strong.

Before I could think too much about it, I went to the basement door. Pulling it open, I descended the stairs, following a blaring alternative song to find Gray. I took a steadying breath before I walked down the hall, turning into the room I assumed was a gym. But when I opened the door, I wasn’t prepared for what was in front of me.

The room was on the smaller side, and several workout machines filled the space. There was a treadmill, a full row of weights, and several benches. Other than that, the room was sparsely decorated, a muted, pale gray on the walls. The only thing that broke up the color was a row of long mirrors fixed to face the machines. Across the room, floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the valley below. The gym must have been right below the living room, because the view was the same. With the deck hanging over the windows, it felt like we were part of the mountain itself.

While that view was gorgeous, the one on the other side of the room really took my breath away.

Gray’s head was down as he twisted, pulling a cable with his arms. His muscles strained with each tug, and it made my eyes trace every inch of him. Everyshirtlessinch. Even though I saw him naked yesterday, the glass obscuredmy view. Now, without any barriers, I could study him, from the way his muscles contorted to the colorful ink that covered most of his upper half.

To my surprise, most of his tattoos were landscapes, images of swirling trees and colors melded into a beautiful scene. It took me a moment to recognize them, but eventually, they all made sense. Holy shit. They were all my designs—my sketches brought to life. Every image marked on Gray’s skin I’d drawn when we were younger, memorializing our hometown in the pages of my sketchbook. The trees surrounding Gray’s childhood home covered both of his forearms, the dock where we’d spent most of our summers lounging covering his bicep. My heart tensed as I found our cove, our secret spot, over his ribs. He had inked our story on his skin.

I was concentrating on the designs when Gray's eyes met mine in the mirror. He furrowed his brow as he turned around. “Devyn?” He put the cable down and turned around to face me. “You okay?”

No. I wasn’t. Not when my eyes fell to the left side of his chest, the same place he’d placed my hand yesterday. Because on the spot, just above his heart, was an Ace of Spades symbol, with our word,Always, written in script around it. And inked in the corner? Our wedding date.

Without thinking, I stepped forward, tracing the lines with my finger. “Is this…” I asked, unable to finish the thought.

Gray nodded, never taking his eyes off me. “I got it right after we left Vegas. Wanted something to remember the night, even if it’s a blur.”

“It’s over your heart,” I said.

“Where else would it be?” Gray’s brow furrowed. “Nomatter what happened between us, it’s yours, Devyn. It’s always been yours.”

My heart pounded at his words, not sure I believed what I was hearing. But the evidence was right in front of me, inked onto Gray’s chest. It was a permanent reminder of what we’d lost, what he had walked away from. The blood roared in my ears, making me feel like I was being dragged down into the depths of the ocean. None of it made sense, not after he’d let me walk away once.

Despite my confusion, I couldn’t help running my finger over the date. “I thought our marriage was a mistake. Yousaidwe were a mistake.”

He placed his hand on top of mine, sealing it against his skin. Gray’s eyes blazed with intensity as he spoke, “Marrying you drunk and in Vegas? That might have been a mistake. But you, Devyn? You have never been one.”

TWENTY-THREE

FIVE YEARS AGO

“We fucking did it!”

Champagne coated us as my teammates celebrated our victory, popping bottles like there was no tomorrow. And honestly, for us, there really wasn’t. We’d still work hard and be consistently training during the off-season, but as the newest World Series Champions, we’d earned a few days of rest.

Okay, now that I thought about it, rest was probably the last thing on anyone’s mind this weekend. When my teammates suggested a bunch of us fly out to Las Vegas, I was hesitant. Not only because I wasn’t really into partying, but because I was burnt. This season had been challenging in the best ways. It was only my second on the Rebels, and I was still adjusting to life in the major leagues. I’d gotten a bit of a break earlier this year, when one of the veteran pitchers was out for surgery. Nothing major, but it meant he’d be out for a few games, giving me a chance to show my skills.

Luckily for me, I’d pitched a no-hitter during my time on the mound, cementing myself in management’seyes. When our winning streak continued, they thrust me into the spotlight, and I could no longer hide behind the rest of the team.

My mom even sent me a photo of me on a magazine cover back home. As much as I loved the game, the attention was another story. My manager had already begged me for more events and interviews, but it wasn’t going to happen.

I shoved that conversation into the back of my mind. We were only here for a few nights, and I was determined to push myself out of my comfort zone. After all, what better place to let off some steam than Las Vegas?

“Oh man,” one of my teammates said at my side. “You see that girl? Fucking smoke show.”

I couldn’t help but follow his chin tilt, trying to find the woman in the crowd. It wasn’t like I was hurting for company, but lately, everything had felt so hollow. After my name took off, a lot of the women who hit on me wanted a story to tell, to talk to their friends about the major league player who’d warmed their beds. Very few wanted to stick around after.

Not that I was looking for that. Not since?—

“Devyn?” The blonde turned her head, and all my thoughts died. I had to close my eyes, making sure I wasn’t hallucinating. But when I opened them again, there she was: my former best friend, Devyn Winters.

When we left for college, we’d promised we’d keep in touch, that distance could never come between us. But as time passed and our phone calls became less frequent, it was clear we were drifting apart. I’d even driven down to the city one weekend to surprise her, but when I got to the dorms, a guy answered and said he was Devyn’s boyfriend. I didn’t even know she was dating someone. I left without a word, heading back to school to lick my wounds. It wasalmost six weeks until she called again. I let it go to voicemail.

But seeing her now, all those hurt feelings faded away. I was too busy staring at the woman in front of me. God, had she always been this gorgeous? My teammate, Damien, who’d spotted her first, turned to me. “You know her, Anders?”

“Yeah,” I said, climbing out of the booth to find her before she disappeared into the crowd. “She’s my best friend.”

---