Page 118 of Winning Brynn

I grin, wide and bright. “It’s why you love me.”

"Daddy Sully and the bros" group chat

Roman:Game day today, boys. Let’s not lose this one, huh?

Alex:Settle down, dickhead. Last time I checked, I’m the captain.

Roman:How could I forget when you shove it down our throats every goddamn day?

Alex:Jealousy looks ugly on you.

Alex:But yeah, let’s not lose this one.

Roman:*eye-roll emoji*

Alex:Sully, can you get to the locker room early? I need to talk to you.

Roman:Uh-oh. Sounds serious.

Leo:Sure. Everything good?

Alex:Would rather do it in person.

Roman:Yikes.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Leo

Alex knows.

If I had any doubts that he didn’t, they’re thwarted when I walk into the locker room to find him sitting on a bench, surrounded by cleats and towels, with his head in his hands.

My heart thunders in time with my echoing footsteps, the sound bouncing off the stone floor and lockers painted red in the team color. I toss my bag onto the bench beneath where my jersey and number are displayed on the wall, directly next to his.

We have twenty minutes before the rest of the boys are likely to roll in. Twenty minutes for my very best friend to kill me for betraying him by falling in love with his sister.

“Hi.” He doesn’t look up.

Acid rolls in my stomach. I think I’m going to throw up.

“Hey.” My voice croaks around a ball in my throat as I shift on my feet.

He says nothing, just sighs, long and defeated, into his hands. The sound is fraught with disappointment, and my heart plunges into the depths of my gut.

I want him to yell at me. Hell, I kind of want him to hit me.

God knows I’d deserve it. And I wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t even defend myself. I’d take every ounce of his anger until it had drained from his system.

I expected anger. But I didn’t expect this.

His silent, harrowing disappointment suffocates the air around us, choking me until I can barely breathe.

I can’t do this.

“Alex, I’m so sor—”

“Issy kissed me.” His sharp statement cuts me off, his eyes finally rising to mine, guilt and nerves swirling inside irises the exact same shade as his sister’s.

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