Page 80 of Cross Check Daddies
“I need to head to the office,” she says, voice flat. “There’s a code issue. Dev team called.”
“Give me a minute,” I say, walking toward her.
She steps back. “I just need a second to myself.”
“Brooke—”
“I mean it.”
Her voice cuts clean. She grabs her keys from the railing, gives me one last look, and walks down the steps to her car.
I move to follow, but Tanner’s voice stops me.
“Let her go.”
I glance at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, face calm in a way I can’t mirror right now.
“She’s not running,” he says. “She just needs to breathe.”
I turn back toward the driveway, watching her pull out and disappear down the road.
And suddenly it’s just me and my brother.
All alone with a silence full of what-ifs.
My jaw’s locked so tight it aches. The heat of everything that just happened is sitting heavy on my chest—Ace’s panic, Brooke’s silence, the way she wouldn’t even let me walk herto the car. And now she’s gone, and I’m standing here empty-handed again.
Ace might’ve just ruined the one good thing we had. The one impossible, complicated, beautiful thing that made sense even though it shouldn’t have.
I was ready. I was working on making peace with the fact that she might never choose just one of us. That maybe I wasn’t supposed to have all of her. But I could still havesomeof her. I could still matter. We could still build something that didn’t follow the rules.
Now I don’t know if any of us have that chance anymore.
“She’s gone,” I mutter.
Tanner’s standing behind me, quiet until now. “I know.”
I turn, angry and tight in my chest. “Ace couldn’t even keep it together for five damn minutes.”
“He’s scared,” Tanner says. “We all are.”
“Well, he gets to be scared from a distance. He’s the one who ran.”
Tanner just nods like he understands it better than I want him to. Then he exhales, rubs the back of his neck. “I left my bike at GameHatch. Think you can drive me?”
I nod, jerking my chin toward the car. “Yeah. Get in.”
The ride is quiet for the first few miles. We pass through the industrial section, old brick buildings giving way to glass and steel. I grip the steering wheel harder than I need to, trying to push the thoughts back, but they come anyway. They always do.
Prom night.
Her body under mine, skin so soft it didn’t feel real. The first time I ever had her. The first time I ever saidI love youand meant it. I remember the way she paused. The way she looked up at me like she was searching for something she couldn’t give back. She never said it. Not that night. Not after.
And something in me cracked from the weight of wanting someone who couldn’t meet me halfway.
But it never changed the fact that I wanted her. Always. Since that night. Since the very first time I knew what it meant towant.
I pull into the lot and kill the engine. Tanner doesn’t move to get out right away.
