Page 65 of Fashionista's Playbook

“Then enjoy the hell out of this ride, you earned it.” She raised her glass in toast.

And just like that, the heavy cloak of emotion slipped off me. The sister of my heart knew me better than I knew myself. And she was right. I owed Travis more credit than I had been giving him.

After a few minutes Rumer’s lip split into a wry grin. “But was the sex really that good?”

I eyed her over the rim of my glass. “You have no idea.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Travis

I woke alone in my large bed, surrounded by sheets that still smelled like crisp apples and woman—Moriah. The familiar, painful tug at my core was something I’d not felt in a long time. Similar to homesickness, it was the same empty feeling I’d forced myself to ignore when my parents died.

It was worse when Vin went to prison and I got shipped off to foster care. That’s when I’d mastered hiding my feelings, shelving the longing and the guilt.

But Moriah’d gone home for one night and I’d woke up that same, scared kid.

Shit was crazy.

I had football and Vincent, and there for a while, just the game. For a long time that was all I needed and now I was afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

Moriah brought all the things to my life I’d never realized I was missing.

If Moriah had made it into work, I wouldn’t have glanced at my phone when it buzzed. Ace had been calling rather incessantly since I’d fired him. I’d never have another use for that scumbag. There were other management firms. I could talk to Linc and find someone, ask around the locker room.

My stomach tightened when my phone sounded again.

It was Vince, who’d figured out I’d changed the security code and he couldn’t get in. I’d been dreading this moment.

I didn’t bother changing, just grabbed the duffel that sat upright in the chair by the bed and jogged downstairs with the backpack slung over my shoulder.

Vince scowled, sun glinting off his bald head as he stepped into my kitchen and looked around. “Why the fuck did you change the lock codes?”

“To keep people from walking into my house uninvited.” I didn’t follow him into the kitchen, but waited near the door.

“I’m not regular people.” He grabbed an orange from the basket on the table and peeled it. “I’m gonna use the gym.”

It never grated me that he never asked, until right then. I was still annoyed with him over the Bianca shit.

“Or you could get a club membership, like regular people.”

He shot me a sideways glance and snorted. “They don’t have a brother with a badass home gym.”

I could make it an argument, tell him the point of the new codes was to keep him out. But fuck it. A workout was a workout, and I didn’t have a team meeting until later in the morning. I followed him downstairs.

Vin went straight for the free weights, like he always did. Before prison, he’d been leaner and more athletic. He came out thicker around the middle. More muscle than fat, sure, but the athlete's body was gone.

Mostly because that shit took effort. And Vin only ever put in just enough work to get by with anything.

Guilt tugged at my chest. In our home growing up, nothing came before family. The four of us were all in. If one Madera brother was in trouble, you could bet the other one had been involved. Except that one time.

I started on the elliptical, the movement warming my muscles until I started to sweat. By the time I’d hopped down, Vin was motioning me to spot him at the weight bench.

“What’s with you, bro?” He glanced up at me. “You look like you could gargle steel.”

“I fired Ace.”

“Good.” Vin pumped the bar up and down slowly, but with enough ease I grabbed a dumbbell and worked on my left arm. “Dude was a little bastard. Fuck that guy.”

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