Comeback (The Holland Brothers Book 3)

The studio door is open and as I step closer, I catch the faint notes of music filtering out. None of that prepares me for the sight that greets me.

Sabrina is dancing in the middle of the space. With a broom clutched in both hands, she sings into one end like it’s a microphone. A little girl with white-blonde hair mimics her.

I’m standing and staring at the sight, warmth spreading through my chest, when another woman steps in front of me. I startle, both because I hadn’t even noticed her and because of the glare she aims at me.

“Hi.” I force a smile and try to appear friendly. The music is too loud for her to hear me, probably, so I lift my right hand in a wave for good measure.

The little girl catches one end of her broom on the floor and trips over it. The woman in front of me glances back and then hurries to her. Sabrina stops as well, her worry for the girl interrupted when she spots me standing in her studio. She smiles hesitantly at me, then checks on the girl, who is completely fine, except for her pink skirt, which is now covered in dirt.

“Sorry.” Sabrina’s lips move with the apology as she takes the broom from the girl, then moves to turn down the music.

I stay in my spot, just inside the door, until she looks back at me.

“Archer?” Surprise and what I think is excitement flashes over her features.

The woman who was glaring at me earlier stares at me with a much softer expression.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t recognize you at first. I thought you were some creeper lurking on my daughter and best friend.”

I huff a short laugh. “Guess I shouldn’t lurk in doorways with a baseball cap.” I adjust the hat on my head to show more of my eyes.

Sabrina steps forward and waves toward the woman and girl. “This is Olivia and her daughter, Greer.”

“Nice to meet you both.”

“Are you Aunt Brina’s boyfriend?” Greer asks.

Her question catches me by surprise and gets another laugh out of me.

Sabrina blushes. “No, Archer is…” She trails off and flushes a deeper shade of red. “We’re roommates.”

Roommates who kissed the hell out of each other last night, but I guess telling that to a small child isn’t appropriate. It’s all I can think about though. Last night. This morning. Now. That was the best damn kiss of my life.

“We should get home,” Olivia says.

Greer whines. “I don’t want to go yet. Aunt Brina says I can come here and dance any time I want.”

Sabrina walks over and squats down in front of the girl, who looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “You are always welcome here, but only with your mom’s approval.”

Greer glances back at her mom. “Can I stay?”

“Not tonight, baby. You have school tomorrow and we still need to get groceries and finish folding laundry.”

Greer makes a face to show her disgust with the chores ahead, but she gets to her feet and walks to her mom.

Sabrina smooths a hand down the girl’s head. “How about when this place is all done, you and I have a sleepover. We’ll lay sleeping bags down on the floor and we can dance the night away?”

Greer’s eyes widen with excitement. “Cool. Can I Mom?”

Olivia nods. “Of course. That won’t be until she’s graduated anyway, right?” A smile tugs at her lips and Sabrina mocks surprise.

“Kidding,” Olivia says. She wraps one arm around her friend, hugging her close. “You’re doing a great job with this place already.”

“Thanks.” Sabrina beams with pride. “Later, bestie.”

“Bye!” Greer waves to her. She looks at me with suspicion. “Aunt Brina is pretty and kind.”

I nod.

“I thought boys liked girls who are pretty and kind so why aren’t you her boyfriend?”

“O-kay.” Olivia takes her daughter by the shoulders and guides her to the door, but she smirks at me as she passes by. “Smart kid.”

When they’re gone, Sabrina lets out a quiet chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

“I think I just got verbally attacked by a child.”

“Greer’s a riot.”

“Clearly.”

She stares at me like she’s waiting for an explanation on why I’m here, but I’m not ready to jump into it yet. When I say what I came here to say, things will be different.

“You’ve made some more progress.” I glance around as I walk farther into the studio. The floors are still dusty, but the lights are working and several cans of paint are stacked against one wall.

“Yeah. It’s coming along.” She stares at me until my skin pricks with unease. Damn. I’d really rather just kiss her again.

“What are you doing here, Archer?” she asks finally.

One side of my mouth pulls up at the sass in her tone, but as I face her and prepare to say the words, my lips fall back into a straight line.

“About last night,” I start and then run a hand along my jaw. Fuck. I should have gone with a text. Looking at her makes this harder. It makes me harder. Dammit. No. Focus, man.

She must sense where I’m going because her body language stiffens.

“It can’t happen again.”

“I see,” she says.

“You’re his sister. I can’t risk making this awkward or worse, doing something that would have you not wanting to be around at all. He’d never forgive me and frankly I’d never forgive myself. He needs you.”

“I’m not a teenage girl who’s going to hold a grudge if things don’t work out,” she says.

“I know. This isn’t about you. That little girl is right. I’m the dummy.”

She finally smiles at that.

“I just…can’t risk it.”

She nods slowly. There’s this small part of me that hoped she’d fight me on it, but she doesn’t, and the realization that this won’t ever happen makes something like disappointment settle like a rock in my gut.

“Thank you for being such a good friend to him.”

“He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“So…friends?”

I huff another short laugh. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

She steps forward. Her red hair is pulled up into a ponytail and the end falls over one shoulder. Sabrina holds out her palm and I slide mine into it. Electricity zips up my arm and tingles through the rest of my body. I hold on longer than I should as her friend.

“One more thing,” I say, voice sounding like I chewed gravel. “The thing you told me about your mom.”

“I’m sorry I dropped that on you last night.” She scrunches up her face as she takes her hand back.

“No. I’m glad you told me. Really. I’ve been through that. I was younger and things were different, but I get it. I’m the one that should be sorry. I guess I wanted you to be a flake and a scam artist because that would make all this a lot easier.”

A small smile curves her lips.

“It’d sure as hell make it easier to stop thinking about kissing you.”

We stare at each other another beat before I manage to stop lusting after a woman I can’t have.

“Anyway.” I clear my throat. “When you’re ready, I think you should tell Brogan. In all the time we’ve been friends, he’s never let me down. He won’t let you down either. I promise.”

The rest of the week goes by faster than it should, considering all my free time is spent thinking about Sabrina. I guess lucky for me there isn’t a lot of free time. I let practice and workouts leading up to our Sunday game consume me. We get on the team plane Saturday late morning and I fall into my seat next to Brogan.

“What sort of flowers do you send to someone with a sick parent?” he asks.

My brows rise in question.

He lets his hand holding his phone drop to his thigh. “Sabrina’s mom is recovering from cancer treatments.”

I nod slowly.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s why she left last winter. I feel like such an ass. I should have known something was up. I knew it wasn’t like her to just disappear.”

“White.”

His brows tug together.

“White roses for sympathy.”

“Right. Thanks.” He picks his phone back up and I settle into my seat, wondering a whole bunch of things and not sure how to ask any of them.

I start with “How’d you find out about her mom?”

“We went out to dinner last night. Some vegetarian place.” He makes a face that has my lips quirk into a smile. “That’s why the studio is so important to her too. Her mom is the one who taught her to dance.”

My chest tightens. I know it’s ridiculous, but I hate that she told him that and not me. I should be happy they’re talking and she’s sharing with him. And I am. I just wish she’d confided in me as well.

It’s a stupid thing to wish but that doesn’t seem to make me want it any less.

Sunday afternoon, the adrenaline kicks in as soon as we file into the locker room and start getting dressed for warmups.

Graham saunters over, knocking me on the arm before he speaks. “Yo, Holland. Ready for today?”

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m happy to jump in if it’s all too overwhelming for you.”

“Fuck off, Graham.” Brogan takes a step toward the guy, but I put out a hand to stop him.

Graham smirks. Fucker.

“Aww, come on. I’m just messing around. It’s a big night. Your first start. Nothing is better than the excitement at the start of the game. The lights, the music, the screams of the crowd. Though I guess those last two are wasted on you.”

“I swear to god, Graham.” Brogan’s jaw clenches as he stares my nemesis down.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Just stating the obvious.”

Graham takes two steps back and then turns away. Brogan glowers a few seconds longer before he looks at me.

“You good?” he asks me.

“Yeah. He’s just trying to get in my head. And yours.”

“I hate that guy,” Brogan seethes.

“Everyone does.”

Despite my best efforts to keep Graham from getting to me, as I walk out onto the field, I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to step out here and feel the full weight of the experience. I accepted my hearing loss a long time ago and the limitations that come with it, but there are times when I wish people didn’t have to make so many concessions for me.

When we get into the first huddle and Cody calls the play, then takes an extra second to say it directly to me, I feel that first crack in my armor.

The second crack comes in the second quarter when the batteries on my hearing aids go out. I swap them out as soon as the possession is over, but I’m rattled.

“What happened to them?” Brogan asks as I toss the old batteries into a side zipper of my bag.

“I just forgot,” I say. I always put fresh batteries in before a game. Always. For this exact reason. But today I was too preoccupied.

After that, the missed catch seems almost inevitable. Coach pulls me for the next possession and Graham’s smug smile as he takes my place haunts me for the rest of the night. Not even the win over Vegas helps my mood.