Page 98 of Cheap Shot
“A little.” I turn my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “You were really sweet today. Both of you.”
“Yeah, well…” He flashes one of his crooked smiles. “Darius is the brains of the operation. I’m just the muscle.”
“You’re more than that.” I squeeze his hand gently. “A lot more.”
The smile fades from his face, replaced by something raw and real. Not his usual charm, not that intense possessiveness he sometimes wears like armor—this is something else.
“You don’t have to tell me. I know I can be nosy.”
“No. That’s not it.” He glances down at our joined hands, then back up. “I have to explain everything from the beginning for it to make sense.”
He shifts slightly, our legs brushing under the blanket, and when he speaks again, it’s like peeling back an old scar. “My dad died when I was ten. Heart attack. Fell off a mountain.”
“Cole.” The sob comes fast, hot, and unwelcome. I try to swallow it down, but it claws its way out anyway. His fingers tighten around mine like he’s anchoring himself. I don’t let go. I reach up with my free hand and wrap it around his wrist, grounding us both.
“It was Cooper’s birthday. He wanted to camp. Dragged the whole family up there, even though he knew Dad wasn’t feeling right. Didn’t say a damn thing.”
The pain in his voice makes my chest ache. I don’t speak. I just let him talk.
“Dad was the only person who saw me. He never let my brothers overshadow me, allowing me to be my own person. Someone other than Beau and Cooper Hendrix’s 'little brother.’”
He lets out a bitter laugh, eyes distant. “I’ve never been able to forgive my brother for what happened, and, honestly, I don’t know if I ever will.”
I reach up, cupping the side of his face and guiding his eyes back to mine. “I see you, Cole.”
He blinks, releasing a shuddering breath as he leans into my hand like he’s been starving for that small comfort.
“I’ve spent most of my career trying to prove I’m not just Cooper’s shadow. Every hit. Every goal. Every fight. Just me screaming, ‘I matter, too.’ Now we’re on the same damn team, and the media’s obsessed with thisBrothers Unitedcrap. But nothing’s changed. I’m still the echo.”
A beat of silence. Then, softer, “I rarely talk about my relationship with my brothers or my feelings at all, but…” He hesitates. “Darius… he’s Cooper’s fiancée’s nephew.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Nope. Found out when I went to pick him up for our ‘date.’ The little extortionist told me he’d blow our cover if I didn’t agree to be his big brother.”
I let out a watery laugh. “Why not Cooper or Beau?”
“He said he needed someone who wouldn’t rat him out. And since I barely talk to them, I was perfect.”
“I don’t think that’s why he picked you,” I murmur, tracing my thumb over the back of his hand. “At the charity event, he couldn’t stop talking about you. That kid thinks you hung the moon.”
He looks at me, eyes unreadable. “Is he the only one?”
I hesitate, but not because I’m unsure. My body’s already leaning toward him. My heart’s already answered.
“No,” I whisper, voice thick with emotion. “He’s not.”
His hand tightens around mine. That unreadable look softens—melts—into something fierce and tender all at once. A slow smile curves his lips, but there’s a gravity in his gaze that stills everything in me.
“I love you,” I say, chest rising with the weight of it. “Cole, I love you.”
His breath leaves him in a ragged exhale, like he’s been holding it in for years. “God,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”
He cups the side of my face and kisses me like he means it—like the words weren’t enough. There’s nothing tentative about it now. His mouth moves over mine, hungry, reverent. Like he’s trying to memorize the shape of this moment with every brush of his lips.
I sigh, arching into him as he leans over me, his hands gliding down the curve of my waist, dragging the blanket with them. My skin prickles under his touch, hypersensitive and aching. His body is warm and solid above mine, the weight of him grounding me and setting me on fire all at once.
His mouth moves to my neck, slow and deliberate, each kiss a promise. I thread my fingers into his hair, tugging gently as his hand slips beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers splaying across my stomach before sliding higher. My breath hitches, his name tumbling from my lips in a gasp.
