Page 110 of The Hearts We Fumble
Colter leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Because he told me he made the mistake of letting you go once before, and he sure as hell isn’t going to make it again. He warned me not to try pushing him away because he’s not going anywhere.”
My breath catches. “He… he told you that?”
Colter nods.
“Today?”
Another nod.
My stomach does a slow, weightless flip.
“I told him if he hurt you, I’d beat his ass.” Colter smirks. “Said that fight with Luca would look like a damn warm-up compared to what I’d do to him.”
I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “Seriously?”
“What do you expect? I’m still your big brother. It’s my job to make sure no one screws with you.”
I peek up at him. “I can take care of myself, Colter.”
“I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be there to back you up.”
There’s an unspoken meaning behind his words. He’s my brother, and in a way, he’s taken on the role our dad would’ve played—being the one to look out for me, to protect me, even when I don’t ask for it.
“As your older brother, I’m also telling you—you should tell him how you feel. I think you might be surprised by what he says back.”
I swallow hard, my emotions tangled between hope and nerves. But before I can talk myself out of it, I stand and lean down toward Colter, wrapping my arms around his seated frame. He pulls me in without a moment’s pause, surrounding me in that familiar warmth that makes my chest ache.
“I’m happy for you, sis.” His voice is rough but genuine. “If I could handpick anyone for you, it would be Zane. I trust he knows how damn lucky he is to have you. And he’s promised to take good care of you.”
My throat burns. “I love you,” I mumble against his shoulder.
“Love you too.”
“All right, all right, get off my girl.”
Zane’s voice is all playfulness and possessiveness, cutting through the moment as he steps onto the back porch.
I turn, grinning as he watches us with mock irritation.
He flicks his eyes toward the garage, silently telling me what he wants. I drag my lip between my teeth, shaking my head, amused.
Colter chuckles. “Don’t make me kick your ass already. Just because I gave my blessing doesn’t mean I won’t knock you out. It’s Thanksgiving, after all. I’m trying to be grateful.”
Zane doesn’t even look at him. He just reaches for me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulls me tight against his side.
His voice is low, meant only for me. “I’m feeling extra thankful for you, baby.”
Then he kisses me, slow and deep, and I know without a doubt—I don’t need to wait anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zane
The conference championship is the first game I haven’t started in my entire four-season career as a Bulldog. The weight of it has been pressing down on me for weeks—since we lost to the Lions in the SAC championship, since I let my team down, standing on the sidelines instead of the field where I belong.
The only silver lining? We still made it to the playoffs.
Since the schedule dropped and we learned we’d be facing Keaton again, I’ve been itching for vengeance. The last time we played them, we didn’t show up like we should have. Luca made damn sure to take advantage of that, and I have no doubt he was targeting me specifically. He doesn’t know that I know the truth about him, that I’ve pieced together the lies and secrets my father has spent years covering up. But when we step onto that field today, it won’t just be a game—it’ll be a reckoning.
