Page 77 of Comeback
“Yep. Fine. See you guys tonight.” She hurries off. Her frenzied state has a smile pulling at my lips.
“Does she seem weird this morning to you?” Brogan asks a few moments later.
I shrug one shoulder but stand. “What time are you heading over to the stadium?”
“Fifteen minutes or so. You want to ride together?” He looks me over with an expression that tells me he doesn’t think I’m going to be ready by then.
“Yeah.” I tap once on the counter and then head down the hall to get ready. Except instead of going to my room, I slip inside Sabrina’s.
“What are you doing?” she squeaks out her surprise and holds a shirt up over her chest. Despite what it looks like, I did not bust in here to see her naked. Not that I would mind it either.
“Sorry. I wanted to make sure you were good.” I move to her. “And maybe kiss you again.”
“I almost gave us away out there,” she says.
I bring my hand up to the side of her neck. Her skin is soft, and the pulse point jumps as I drop my mouth over hers.
“Should have stayed in bed,” I murmur against her lips. I pull back and ask, “Why’d you leave?”
“I didn’t think you’d like it very much if Brogan realized where I was.”
“If we keep doing this, he’s going to figure it out.”
“And you’re okay with that?” she asks, voice climbing higher.
“I’ve never lied to him. I’m not going to start now.”
Her shoulders lift and fall with a breath. “So, we’re doing this?”
I swipe my mouth over hers one more time. “Don’t look so nervous. If he’s going to kill one of us, it’s going to be me.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. I wish I could stay, but now I have two reasons to get going. I don’t want to be late to practice and I need to tell Brogan I want to date his sister.
“You ready?” Brogan asks as I finally emerge from my room ready for practice.
Sabrina already left for the studio, and I don’t see London, so she must be out as well.
“Yeah, but I need to talk to you.”
He nods absently. “All right. Can we do it on the way? I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Sure. Yeah.”
I follow him out to his truck. Mine is still at the stadium, where I left it yesterday before the game.
When we’re both in and buckled, he starts the engine. My pulse kicks up a notch. I don’t really think he’s going to kill me, but he might not be thrilled and that would be almost as bad.
After he’s pulled away from the curb, he turns the radio down and shifts in his seat, glancing at me. “You good?”
“Yeah. Great.”
His brows lift a fraction. “What’d you want to talk about?”
Okay. We’re jumping right in. I swipe my palms down the front of my athletic pants.
“Sabrina.”
“What about her?” His tone is defensive and his hands clench around the wheel.
