Comeback (The Holland Brothers Book 3)

I can hear the music from the party as soon as I step off the elevator. The heavy bass spreads down the hall and vibrates the walls. My already frayed nerves bounce around with the beat, and my grip tightens on the champagne bottle.

One deep breath. Two.

I pull out my phone and quadruple-check the apartment number. I’m stalling. I have it memorized and even if I didn’t, it’s obvious by the music which one is my brother’s place.

A twinge of excitement manages to work its way in despite my anxiety. I have a brother. I still can’t quite believe it. Brogan Six—the Maverick’s star tight end who charmed an entire nation last year during his rookie season—is my brother.

When I decided to look for my birth parents, I never thought it would lead me here: ten feet away from an apartment filled with professional football players.

I take another step. My boots click on the hardwood floors. Boots that were absolutely a mistake. I look like I’m trying too hard. I feel like I’m trying too hard.

I take one more deep breath. If I don’t go now, I never will.

I’m not usually the kind of woman to get all spun up about attending a party, but this is a big deal.

Brogan has welcomed me into his life with open arms. And I genuinely like him. Even if he wasn’t my brother, I could see us being friends. He’s fun and warm. When I was a little girl, sitting at home bored, wishing I had a sibling, I’d imagine what it would be like to have a sister who I could share secrets and make up fun dance routines with or a brother that would protect me and let me tag along with him and his friends to play sports or build forts.

And while I had wished a lot harder for a sister, Brogan is the brother I dreamed about. I don’t need him to look out for me now, but it means so much to me that he’s trying to include me in his life.

My hand lifts to knock on the door, but it flings open before I make contact. The guy is moving forward, clearly not expecting someone to be standing on the other side. He sees me at the last second, then does an agile sidestep so he doesn’t run me over, all while somehow still managing to hold the door open for me. I guess chivalry isn’t dead.

“Hey, sorry.” His gaze sweeps over me, giving me time to recognize him.

Archer Holland.

The Mavericks’ wide receiver is six feet of hard, lean muscle. He’s too handsome for his own good with a chiseled jawline and long dark eyelashes that frame expressive hazel eyes. Eyes that are currently examining me the same way I am him.

In the few seconds it’s taken for him to realize who I am, his entire demeanor has changed. Gone is the happy, cheerful expression and instead he’s looking at me with a mixture of surprise and disgust.

“What are you doing here?” His gruff voice skates over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

My brother’s best friend and roommate looks at me like I make a full-time job out of party crashing. The smile on my face falters for just a moment.

“Is that your standard greeting?” I ask, trying to infuse some humor into the moment because seriously, what the hell?

He doesn’t budge, but his voice is maybe slightly more polite when he asks, “Does Brogan know you’re here?”

“Not yet but if you let me in he would.” I peer around him. Or I attempt to. He’s tall and broad and taking up most of the doorway. And still not moving.

I can’t see him, but I can now hear my brother inside. He has one of those voices that carries when he talks or laughs, both things he does a lot of. Unlike his best friend.

“Seriously, Sabrina, does he know you’re back in town?”

Now it’s my turn to be surprised. It isn’t like I think Brogan sits around talking about me all the time, but I did assume he’d mentioned to Archer that I was coming tonight.

“Yes, and he invited me.” I hold up the champagne bottle as if that’s proof somehow.

He doesn’t like that answer. His brows pinch together, and a flash of uncertainty takes the place of his glowering.

“When did you get back?”

“Three weeks ago.” I let out an exasperated breath. “What is the problem?”

It’s a loaded question. Archer has always had a problem with me. He doesn’t trust me. I’m not sure the exact reason, but it’s been obvious since the first time I met him.

“I thought you were going to get more beer.” A new voice has my attention lifting from Archer’s scowl to a much friendlier face.

Merrick Thomas smiles as he spots me. We’ve never met, but my family are big enough Mavericks’ fans that I recognize him instantly. He’s bigger than Archer, and should be more intimidating, but only one of them is glaring at me right now and it isn’t Merrick.

“You must be Sabrina,” Merrick says.

“You know who I am?”

He gives me a shy smile and I swear he’s blushing beneath his dark skin. “Brogan’s mentioned you a time or two.”

Okay then. It’s a strange feeling to have someone like Merrick know who I am.

Merrick nudges Archer who finally tears his angry gaze away from me.

“Can you go instead?” Archer asks his teammate.

Merrick glances between us before nodding. “Sure. Text me what you want me to grab.”

“Thanks.” Archer finally moves out of the way so Merrick can pass, and I take the opportunity to slip by him as well.

The noise swallows me up as I step over the threshold, but Archer’s voice somehow manages to still cut through it. “Wait.”

I do but only because it’s his apartment too.

Slowly I turn back to face him. He’s in a black T-shirt and jeans with sneakers. A hint of a tattoo peeks out from the sleeve of his shirt on his left arm. It isn’t the first time I’ve noticed it, but I’m never quite able to tell what it is. I can’t explain it, but seeing it feels like it could solve a bit of the puzzle of who Archer is. He’s a mystery to me.

Brogan and Archer are best friends, have been since they were kids according to my brother. But even after almost a year of getting to know Brogan, I haven’t learned that much about the guy that means so much to him. Well, except for that he dislikes me.

Maybe he thinks I’m only interested in a relationship with Brogan because he’s a rich, successful football player. Which is laughable. It’d be a lot less intimidating if Brogan was just a normal guy with normal friends. Take tonight for example. Walking into a party of professional athletes is intimidating as fuck. Especially when one of them is so blatant in not wanting me here.

He runs a hand through his hair, giving me a glimpse of the hearing aid I know he wears on both ears. Shit. I forgot to sign. Now I feel like an asshole.

Archer is deaf, but Brogan says he’s great at lip reading anything his hearing aids don’t pick up. Still, I’ve always tried to make an effort to sign since I know how. I’m rusty from not signing with anyone in a while, but I know it’ll come back to me with a little practice. Although Archer doesn’t look like he’s all that eager to chitchat.

His jaw clenches as he stares back at me. Whatever he wants to say is interrupted by a loud, booming voice shouting my name.

“Sabrina!” Brogan has both arms lifted, waving to get my attention. The entire party looks my way, and I do my best not to blush a hideous shade of red that will clash with my hair.

“Hi.” I lift one hand awkwardly as Brogan weaves through the party to get to me. He doesn’t stop until he crushes me in a hug, lifting my feet off the ground and turning in a circle.

“Woah,” I say, nervous laughter trickling out. “This outfit doesn’t really do spinning hugs.”

He puts me down with a chuckle and I tug my skirt back down to a decent level. Brogan’s teammates are easy to pick out by size alone, all of them tall and muscular, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot a shorter, narrower woman among them. She smiles in a way that lights up her entire face and moves toward me without hesitation to stand next to her fiancé.

“You came!” London hugs me like we’ve known each other all our lives instead of less than a year. When she pulls back, her smile falters. “Sorry. Are you a hugger? I got excited. It’s so good to see you.”

If I weren’t a hugger, now would be a terrible time to admit it.

“Yeah, I’m a hugger and it’s good to see you too.” A small laugh escapes me as she visibly relaxes. “This is…”

“They’re a lot, right?” She takes my hand. “Don’t worry. You get used to it.”

I’m not a wallflower by any means, but this is an intimidating room.

“This is for you.” I hold out the champagne in my other hand. “Congrats on the engagement.”

London’s face goes soft. “This is so nice. You didn’t need to get us anything else. You already sent flowers.”

“My mother told me never to show up to a party empty-handed,” I admit.

“Well, thank you. I’m going to open this so we can celebrate,” she says, leaving me with Brogan in the living room. A large island separates it from the kitchen.

“This is perfect,” Brogan says. “We can celebrate the engagement and you being back in town. Do you want something to drink besides champagne?”

“Oh, uh, whatever. I’m easy.”

I cringe and blush again. His lips quirk on one side, but he doesn’t take the bait on the being easy comment. Maybe that’s weird for a brother to comment on. What do I know?

I follow him into the kitchen on the other side where liquor bottles line the countertop.

“How are you? What have you been up to?” Brogan asks as he moves toward the fridge. Archer has made his way back to the kitchen as well. He leans against the counter with a beer hanging loosely from his fingertips, watching me with that same disapproving expression on his face.

Brogan offers me a beer, which I accept.

“I’m good.” I focus my stare on my brother and not the guy planning my demise. “Still settling in, but glad to be back. What about you? When’s the wedding? I’m so excited for you.”

His face lights up as London approaches with three glasses filled with champagne. He takes two of them, handing one to me, and then wraps an arm around London’s waist. “Can you believe she agreed to marry me?”

“No,” one of the other guys hanging in the kitchen, Tripp, I think, says loudly, making everyone laugh.

“Have you set a date for the wedding?” Inadvertently my gaze roams again, back to Archer, who is still scowling. I glance away, but my face heats as I feel the weight of Archer’s stare. It’s like the man has laser beam eyes hoping to incinerate me on the spot.

“Not yet,” London says. “I don’t want a big wedding.”

“Just a big party to celebrate,” Brogan adds, then his expression shifts to something more serious as he asks me, “You’ll come, right?”

“To the party? Of course.”

He flashes a boyish grin and lifts his glass in the air. “It’s good to see you. Cheers.”

Someone must have passed the champagne around because several other guys are holding glasses of the bubbly, and when I clink my glass against Brogan’s, they all say “Cheers” and drink at the same time.

“Are you staying in town for good now?” Brogan asks.

“Yeah. I hope so. I still need to find a place to live and a space to lease for my dance studio, but yes, the plan is to stay.”

“I’m so glad. We can hang more often. I got used to the idea of a sister and then you were gone for six months.”

A pang of guilt creeps in. Not long after we connected, I left town without saying goodbye. I wasn’t thinking, but if I had been, I don’t think I would have expected him to be so hurt by it. I open my mouth to explain, but it’s a party and he looks so happy, so I just smile at him and let his words really hit. “I’d like that.”

There’s a lot of happy shouting in the living room and then two guys with biceps bigger than my thighs start playfully shoving each other.

“Maybe at my place sometimes,” I suggest. When I get a place.

“I better go make sure we didn’t leave out anything breakable.” London heads into the chaos. She’s braver than me.

He chuckles. “It’s not always this chaotic. Usually, it’s just me and Arch sitting around playing video games. Isn’t that right?”

Brogan turns to Archer, who is pulling another beer from the fridge. Brogan signs to him without speaking. Archer nods as he twists the cap off his beer and slides it into his pocket. I catalog every movement. Why does he put them in his pocket? Too lazy to throw them away? Saving them for beer cap art?

“Since London moved in, it’s less video games and more watching the happy couple make out every time I turn around.” Archer smiles though, like he maybe doesn’t mind that much and is actually happy for Brogan. The man is so hard to read.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Brogan looks at me. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come home to him playing Ariana Grande.”

“I love Ariana Grande,” I say, then realize there must be some other meaning behind it.

“She’s his go-to when he brings someone back. I swear every time I hear her voice, I get in the mood.”

Archer’s lips curve into a smile that changes his whole face. Gone is the irritated jerk I’ve come to expect and in his place is a flash of what I have to assume is the real guy. The one who doesn’t hate everyone else. Just me.

Someone yells for Brogan and my brother whips his head around to find the source. Archer and I stare at one another, neither speaking. I’m too busy wondering why Ariana Grande? And what kind of girls is he into? I did some minor online perusing, and he doesn’t really keep up with his social media presence. The last post was from almost a year ago when he first joined the Mavericks. Most of the photos are of him, his teammates, his brothers. Any that included girls seemed more incidental than anything else.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Brogan says, resting a hand lightly at my elbow. “Don’t go anywhere. I want to catch up on all the things.”

He’s gone before I can respond, leaving me alone with Archer. I take another sip of my champagne and avoid looking at him for a moment while I catch my bearings. I swear I’m usually confident and self-assured, but this environment really knocks a girl off her game. Not that I want game here. I’d just like not to turn into a meek version of myself.

“He’s glad you’re back,” Archer says. I’m honestly surprised he’s talking to me at all. Small victories, I guess. He’s still frowning any time he looks at me though.

“Yeah. I am too.” I remember to sign the words as I speak this time.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says.

Geez. There is no winning with this guy.

His jaw ticks. “If you aren’t staying this time, you should be upfront with him. I don’t want him to get his hopes up and then you duck out again.”

My mouth drops open. Okay, so technically yes, I guess that’s what it looked like to him, but it’s so far from the reality of it all.

It was honestly a shitty six months that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. It’s not like I wanted to put my life on hold and run back home. I love Lake City. There’s so much more fun and excitement in this town than where I grew up. But family comes first. Something I don’t bother trying to explain to Archer. It’s obvious he’s already made his mind up about me and I don’t have the energy to go ten rounds with him.

“Thanks for the concern, but it’s really not any of your business.” I step to the left, prepared to pass by him, but Archer is faster. He moves in front of me, chest inches from mine. So close I can smell his cologne and feel the warmth radiating off him.

His expression is pained, and his hazel eyes swirl with unease. “He has had a lot of people disappoint him. If you’re going to do the same, then just do it now and get it over with. Don’t act like you want to be in his life if you’re going to keep flaking.”

His meaning finally registers. While I was adopted, Brogan grew up with our birth parents. And they were not the best. I’ve only heard a little of the details, but it was enough for me to know how lucky I was to be brought up in a loving and caring environment.

“I didn’t flake,” I say. “I left because…” I stop myself. Screw him. He doesn’t get to bully the reasons out of me. I don’t want him to hate me either though. He’s looking out for Brogan, and I get that. “I’m not going to flake on him.”

He doesn’t move, but he works that impressive jaw back and forth. “So you’re staying then?”

I’m not sure what he wants me to promise. That I’ll never let him down? That I’ll always be here? I’m not going to do that. Shit happens. Life is messy. People disappoint you, sometimes on purpose and sometimes by chance. Nothing is guaranteed.

“For tonight anyway.”

“Hey.” London comes to stand between us.

I bet we look like two boxers about to pounce. Punching his handsome face might make me feel better actually.

“I want to catch up,” she says, pulling me away from Archer. She drags me over to a couple of empty bar stools in front of the island. When we’re seated, she smiles at me with her dark brows raised slightly. “What was that about?”

“What?” I play dumb and take a drink of my beer, followed by a sip of champagne. I’ve never been so glad to have two drinks in hand, though the two do not pair well.

“You looked like you were about to punch him or kiss him.”

“If those are the only two options, then I pick the first one.”

She laughs and my unease slides away. London doesn’t ask me any more about Archer. Instead, she catches me up on everything that’s been going on with them since I left. I missed her and talking like this almost makes me forget about the party around us.

That is until Brogan joins us, bringing some of his teammates with him. Including Archer. I note that they all stand in a way that allows Archer to read their lips.

“What were you doing in Flagstaff so long?” Brogan asks. “I thought you were just heading back to get your stuff, so you could move here, but that was months ago.”

That had been the plan but well, life happened.

“I had to sort out a few things first. Took longer than I thought.” I smile weakly and feel Archer’s gaze on me. He has this disbelieving stare aimed at me like I knowingly lied to Brogan. Why would I even do that?

Still, if it’s true and they all think I’m a huge flake who might bounce at any moment, I want to squash it. Not for Archer, but for Brogan.

“I’m all moved now though.”

“Where are you staying?” Brogan asks at the same time London asks, “Are you still dancing at the Lilac Lounge?”

“A friend is letting me crash on her couch until I find something. I’m hoping to find a studio space that also has an apartment, but that’s proving difficult so far. And yes…” I look at London. “You should come by sometime. It’s not all girls dancing in cages. There are guys too and the atmosphere is pretty cool.”

Brogan makes a gruff noise of disapproval but smirks as he wraps an arm around London possessively.

“Sounds fun.” London’s eyes light up. “Let’s plan a girls’ night or something.”

“I’d like that.” Outside of Olivia and my other coworkers, I don’t know that many people here yet and I already know I like London. She’s fun and smart and I think we would be friends even if she wasn’t marrying my brother.

“You’re crashing on someone’s couch?” Brogan asks.

“She’s a friend.”

His brows still tug together like the idea of me not having a proper place to stay is a travesty. It’s actually not been bad. Sure, I live with a five-year-old that is up with the sun, but she’s so cute it’s forgivable.

“If you need a place to stay while you look for an apartment, you could always crash here,” Brogan offers.

I hear a sharp intake of breath and when I glance at Archer, yep, he looks as shaken and as pissed as I expected. Oh yeah, that’d be a super idea. Live with Brogan and his hot best friend who hates me? It’s laughable, but I’m also strangely touched by the idea that my brother is so welcoming.

Because the fact is, we haven’t spent that much time together yet. Texts, a few hang outs, most of which happened months ago before I left Lake City to go home. That he doesn’t hesitate to offer makes me crave more of a relationship with him.

“We have a spare bedroom and it’s not that far to your work from here.” Brogan looks to Archer as if it just occurred to him to check with his roommate who clearly hates my guts.

I’d kind of like to watch the way his head would spin if I agreed, but I can’t consider it for long because I don’t want to get Brogan’s hopes up either.

“Thank you, but I’m okay,” I say. “I’ll find something.”