“You look beautiful, Vee.”
Ryan turns his head my way in the back seat, giving me a soft and proud grin as we wait in the line of cars out front of an all too extravagant building.
“Thank you.” I nudge my shoulder into his.
“No, thank you. If you didn’t agree to be my plus-one to this thing, I would’ve been screwed. Do you remember my GM’s niece? The one I had to help out with that movie premiere? She hasn’t left me alone since, and our General Manager asked me to bring her tonight, but thankfully, you had already said yes.”
“Sounds like true love. I’m sorry to have stood in the way.”
“Please. Basketball is my only true love.”
“Romantic.”
Running my hands down the sky-blue satin of my gown, I take a deep breath. The price tag on this dress almost made me sick, it was so expensive. But as soon as I put it on and my brother saw the confidence run through every nerve in my body, he checked out and paid for it before I was even out of the dressing room.
Confidence has been an interesting word lately.
I couldn’t tell you the last time I felt it consistently, but I have as of late. As much as I don’t want to admit it, Zanders’ attention has done a number on my self-confidence—in the best way possible.
I know he doesn’t completely know me, but the parts he’s seen, make me feel seen. He knows the right things to say, and not in a blanket statement this-is-what-girls-like-to-hear way. But in a way that they’re catered just to me. He makes me feel good, whether that’s his small lingering stares, the sweet gift on Christmas, or the hot as hell kiss on New Year’s.
He makes me feel good.
The New Year’s kiss was my fault, and probably shouldn’t have happened, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d been fighting our physical connection for months now, and for just a moment, I wanted to give in. I wanted to feel wanted.
But that kiss felt like a step in the direction I promised myself I wouldn’t take.
I’ve been teetering with the idea that maybe I can keep it casual by doing the road hookup thing with him. Truthfully, I have no idea what’s going on between us, so to protect my heart, I’ve been trying to convince myself that’s all it is for Zanders—a physical pull. Because allowing myself to believe it’s anything more than that opens me up to getting hurt.
The potential damage he could do, judging by the way I feel about him already, scares the shit out of me.
The guy doesn’t date, he rarely repeats his hookups, and he sure as hell doesn’t do relationships—at least he never has before. But I have to be okay with that because I want to be around him.
I like talking to him.
I like that he lets me see hidden sides to him.
I loved sleeping with him, and I like the confidence he gives me.
Though, at this moment, as we pull up in front of endless flashing cameras, thanks to the mob of reporters trying to get a taste of every big athlete in Chicago attending Maddison’s fundraiser, the confidence is replaced with nerves.
“You’re good, Vee,” Ryan quietly says, reassuring me before his door opens.
As my brother steps out of the car and onto the red carpet, flashes illuminate the night sky so brightly you’d assume it was mid-afternoon instead of eight in the evening. The shouts and cheers for my twin’s attention cause my throat to dry up, knowing I’m about to step out next to him.
I hate this.
Maybe our driver can pull around back and drop me off there instead.
I’m about two seconds from asking him when my brother reaches back into the car, holding his hand out for me to grab.
Shit.
Swallowing hard, I place my hand in his, allowing him to help me out of the car. Ryan shields me as much as possible as I keep my head low, but I can’t really hide. There are too many people.
My heart races the further I get down the carpet, but at the same time, I know the only way to get away from this attention is to reach the entryway door in front of me. So, I keep moving.
“Ryan Shay!” reporters call out, wanting to get my brother’s attention.
“Ryan Shay, are you on a date?”
“Who is your date?”
I get that my brother is never pictured with women because he doesn’t date, but gross.
The doorman opens the main entrance, and Ryan ushers me inside before turning back to the mob that itches for his attention. “I’m here with my twin sister, so you can all relax,” he laughs. “Let’s have a good night for a good cause. Thank you.”
Always diplomatic, he offers the crowd a wave and a kind smile before following me inside.
“You okay?” My protective brother leads me to the coat check.
Nodding in agreement, I shrug off my winter coat, checking it in as Ryan does the same.
Thankfully, he cleared up who I was, so here’s hoping that keeps my picture off the internet tomorrow. I can barely handle the judgment from my own mother, let alone thousands of savage internet trolls.
As soon as we’re led into the main ballroom, my eyes widen in shock. The lighting, the music, the crowd—it’s all so beautiful and overwhelming to see this many people support Maddison’s charity foundation.
“Shay!” a few of Ryan’s teammates call out, urging us over to the small high-top table they’re standing around.
“Little Shay.” Dom, Ryan’s teammate, looks me up and down as I approach. “You look smoking hot tonight. Very bangable.”
“Watch it,” my brother warns.
“For someone else,” Dom corrects. “Someone who is not your twin brother’s teammate, and maybe someone who is cool with having their dick cut off.”
“Good to see you, Dom.” Laughing, I hug the big man. My brother’s pro teammates are all pretty awesome, which is vastly contradictory to how I feel about his college ones.
One college one.
One college one who is going to be here tonight.
“Am I allowed to give your baby sister a glass of champagne? Or is that grounds for getting my ass beat too?”
“I’m no one’s baby sister. Hotshot over here”—I motion towards my twin—“is only three minutes older.”
Ryan drapes an arm over my shoulders. “You’re still my baby sister, but Stevie is more of a beer girl. I’m gonna go grab us a round.”
Ryan takes off, leaving me with his teammates. As I said, they’re cool, but I have absolutely nothing to contribute to their conversation about last night’s double-overtime loss. So as the giant basketball players tower over me, rehashing their failed game, I allow my eyes to wander the room.
The space is stunning, with soft lighting, low music, and a wall full of auction items. Art, game tickets, and memorabilia, all donated to raise money for Maddison’s charity.
The guests are stunning, dressed to impress. Gorgeous women in extravagant gowns drape the arms of Chicago’s most prominent athletes. Tall, built men overtake the room, all wearing their best tuxedos. Everyone is just so…beautiful.
Working my gaze around the room, a sudden magnetic pull brings my attention to the space between two of my brother’s teammates. There in the distance, across the room, a pair of hazel eyes watch me.
Zanders.
God, he looks good. He’s surrounded by countless people begging for his attention, but his focus is set on me.
A soft smile rests on his full, very kissable lips before he silently mouths our favorite phrase, “You following me?” from across the room.
A laugh escapes me as I hold his eye contact, a blush heating my cheeks. Zanders wears an all too giddy grin, matching mine.
“Little Shay, what’s so funny?” Dom asks.
Bringing my attention back to the group of guys I’m standing with, I shake my head to tell them nothing. I’m not ready for my brother to know about my hookup with Evan Zanders, and filling his teammates in, is a disaster waiting to happen.
“Who’s that with your brother?” Dom motions towards the bar.
Without turning that way, I already know who it is. The pit in my stomach knows too.
After all these years, the idea of seeing Brett tonight has been weighing on me for weeks now. We have such a sordid history, and something about him will always remind me that I’m not enough. But at the same, I’ve always wanted to be. No piece of me wants to be with him now, but part of me wants him to want me for once.
I know that sounds fucked up, but this push and pull we had for years, more so him pulling away and me chasing to be enough, messed with my self-worth like you wouldn’t believe.
I just wanted him to choose me, and now years later, I feel like I need to prove I’m worthy of being chosen.
So, here I am, my curls as straight as an arrow. My clutch resting in my hands held over my stomach, trying to hide the curve there.
What is wrong with me? Why do I care?
“Little Shay, who is that?”
Finally, my eyes slide over to the bar finding Ryan with his old college teammate—my ex-boyfriend.
Ryan has two beers in his hand, one for me, I’m assuming, when Brett’s eyes meet with mine.
My stomach drops.
I want to run and hide, but I also want to stay put and prove to him something that doesn’t need proving.
That I’m enough.
“Ryan’s college teammate,” I absentmindedly answer.
Brett’s smile lifts when he sees me before he pats my brother’s shoulder, picks up two flutes of champagne, and heads my way.
I can’t keep my eyes off him. He looks good. He’s just as handsome, though his body has slightly changed due to the lack of basketball in his life.
And even these few moments of being around him again, I know I can’t do it. I can’t be in the same city as him. I already feel like I’m not enough.
“Does Shay know that you’ve banged his college teammate?” Dom’s tone is amused but somewhat fearful for the man walking my way.
“Yeah. The three of us were close friends, and he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh shit.” Dom grabs his champagne glass from the table, motioning to the rest of his teammates. “That’s our cue.”
The big guys take off as Brett approaches me with a champagne flute outstretched.
“Stevie, you look amazing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
A low chuckle escapes Brett’s lips. “Where’d my humble Stevie go?”
Humble? I think he means insecure.
Lifting the flute a little higher, he waits for me to take it.
“I don’t really drink champagne,” I remind him.
“You can tonight. Come on. I haven’t seen you in years. Have a drink with me.”
Reluctantly, I take the glass from him, never being great at saying no to this man.
“How are you?”
“I’m good,” I quickly answer, nodding. “You?”
Bringing the bubbly liquid to my lips, I slightly grimace. It’s just so fucking sweet. I want a beer.
“Doing better now. Ryan has a few people he wants to introduce me to tonight, so if all goes well, I’ll be working in sports again, and even better, I’ll be living in the same city as you.”
Brett reaches out, stroking a piece of my smooth and straight hair, running it between his fingers. “I love when you wear your hair like this.”
I turn my head away from him, not sure if I like him touching me again. But also, not sure if I don’t.
“Stevie, I’m so happy to see you,” Brett says out of nowhere. My eyes dart to his, completely confused. We haven’t dated in years. We haven’t spoken in years. He’s just out of options.
“Don’t say that,” I beg. “Not after the things you said.”
“What are you talking about?”
Does he really not know? Does he not realize that I heard him tell his whole team, sans my brother, that he had been using me for our entire three-year relationship? That he was moving on to better and hotter things as soon as he turned pro?
“All I know is suddenly my girlfriend fell off the face of the earth, and I never heard from you once we graduated.”
“Your girlfriend? Or the girl you were using to fill the time until you could move on to better things?”
“Stevie, what are you talking about?”
“I heard you!” My voice raises slightly, anger bubbling. “That day in the locker room. You told the entire team that you were only with me because you were bored and that you were going pro and would have endless options at your fingertips. I heard you.”
“Are you shitting me, Stevie? That’s why you’ve avoided me all these years? That’s locker room talk.”
Wait. Was it? Was I exaggerating this whole time about the words he said about me?
My brows furrow in confusion. Even if it was locker room talk, that’s exactly how he treated me for years—like I was an option, and he was waiting around for a better one. So, no. I’m not wrong.
“You need to get over it.”
My eyes dart to his. “Get over it?”
“Yes, get over it. You’ve avoided me for years. You’ve avoided my messages. But now we’re about to live in the same city, and I know you still have feelings for me. You always have. So don’t be like this just because you overheard some locker room talk.”
I have nothing to say because I’m not sure he’s wrong. Feelings probably isn’t the correct term, but maybe I have something to prove. That I’m better than the situation he put me in.
“Your family loves me. They’ve always wanted us together, and now I’m here. This isn’t over, and you know it.”
“It is over.” My tone has no conviction whatsoever.
“No, it’s not.”
“She said it’s over,” a commandingly strong and confident voice says behind me.
I can feel Zanders’ presence, and having him back me up, causes my spine to straighten, to stand a little taller.
From behind, Zanders reaches over me and pulls the barely tasted glass of champagne from my hands, leaving it on the table, before he slips a beer into my grasp instead.
“Holy hell!” Brett exclaims, a nervous laugh bellowing from his stomach. “Evan Zanders! I was hoping to meet you tonight. I’m Brett.” He reaches out for the defenseman to shake his hand, but Zanders refuses.
“Good to know. Can you give me a moment alone with Stevie?”
Brett fumbles, his hand retreating to his side. “Uh, sure thing.” His brows knit together. “Stevie, we’ll dance later.”
“No, you won’t.” Zanders’ large hand grips my hip from behind, staking a claim. The metal of his rings digs into my hipbone with his commanding touch, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off him.
Even though the touch is small, Brett catches it right away.
“Does your brother know?”
“Does my brother know what you said about me?”
Zanders’ grip on me tightens, his fingertips bunching the satin fabric, and the heat searing off him.
“No, does your brother know about this.” Brett nods towards the giant man behind me.
“There’s nothing for him to know.”
Zanders’ hand slips off me, making me miss his possessive touch, but still, he stays firmly rooted behind me, and having him here gives me the confidence I need.
“I think you should go, Brett.” I end the conversation with that.
“We’ll talk later.”
“I don’t—”
“We will talk later.” His tone is pointed and angry as he looks down at me then up to Zanders. But even though he’s trying to be demanding a-hole, I can see the intimidation in his eyes.
Good.
He always intimidated me in a way, so seeing the roles reversed, thanks to the sexy as sin man behind me, feels good.
Brett takes off, and Zanders slides around, facing me, with his eyes locked on the back of my ex-boyfriend.
“Who the hell is that?” Zanders casually leans one arm onto the high-top table next to us, looking like an absolute snack I want to devour.
Sweet baby Jesus, he looks good. Like real good. His tuxedo is all black, the entire thing tailored to fit every muscle of his body. His tatted hands extend past the cuffs, and his fingers are still decorated with his rings—just the way I like them.
“Stevie girl.” Zanders lifts my chin, causing my wandering gaze to lock with his. “I’m going to need you to stop drooling over me for a second and tell me who that is.”
My eyes narrow being called out like that, but he’s not wrong.
“That is my ex-boyfriend.”
“I hate him.”
“Shocking,” I laugh.
“What did you mean your brother doesn’t know what he said about you? What did he say about you?”
Zanders’ hazel eyes are pointed and focused, urging the words out of me, but my brother is right there, over his shoulder at the bar, and now is just not the time.
“Can we talk about it later?”
“Will we? Will you tell me later?”
“Yes, I will.” Which is true. I find myself being completely open and honest with Zanders, and I like talking to him. So yes, I will tell him if he cares to ask again.
Following his eyes with mine, I watch him take in every inch of my body. And I let him. I feel no need to cover up or turn to a more flattering angle when it comes to him.
“You look…” Zanders loses his words as his stare bounces between my breasts then lingers on my exposed leg, the one the thigh-high slit can’t cover.
“You’re beautiful, Stevie.” His tone is soft and authentic. “Unreal.” He shakes his head. His hazel irises make their way back to mine as they dance all over my face, taking me in.
“This dress is…yeah. Wow. Makes the green in your eyes disappear. They’re just blue tonight.”
Why is he saying it like that? It’s making my heart flutter and my lungs shrink.
“Your hair is pretty like this.” He doesn’t touch me. Instead, he nods towards it. “But I miss your curls. They’re your signature.”
A small smile lifts at my lips. I love my curls too, and here I am straightening them to impress someone who didn’t care to choose me.
The way Zanders is looking at me doesn’t feel sexual. It feels like he’s seeing me, and it’s throwing me off.
Zanders is physical. Sex. Attraction. These are the things I know as fact. But his expression right now is soft, like he’s in pain from attempting to hold himself back as he takes me in.
Clearing my throat, I pull my focus away from him, needing to not feel the things he’s making me feel right now. “This is amazing, the turn out for Maddison’s foundation.”
Zanders’ brows crease in confusion. “Stevie, you know that—”
“Vee,” Ryan interrupts, holding a beer in each hand. “Where’d Brett go?”
Ryan’s blue-green eyes bounce between Zanders and me.
“I’m not sure.” I motion towards the defenseman. “Ryan, this is Evan Zanders. Zanders, this is my brother, Ryan.”
“Hey, man, nice to meet you.” Zanders stands up straight before putting his hand out for Ryan to shake.
Ryan returns the greeting. “Yeah, I know who you are.”
Fuck.
The tension is thick between the three of us, no one saying a word, and Zanders is clearly unimpressed with my brother trying to play hardball.
“Should we go find Brett?” Ryan turns towards me. “The three of us haven’t hung out since college.”
“I don’t want to.” My eyes dart to Zanders’, silently asking him to stay quiet.
Zanders leans his elbow on the high-top, crossing one foot over the other, looking casual as can be and not intimidated by my brother in the slightest.
“Well, we should go get a fresh drink at the bar then.” My brother attempts another excuse to get me away from the defenseman, but this one is a terrible try, seeing as I have an almost full drink in my hand and another fresh one waiting for me in his.
Zanders lets out a knowing chuckle before standing up straight. “Ryan, it was nice to meet you.” He pats my brother on the shoulder.
“Stevie…” Zanders slides his hand on my waist, splaying it over my rib cage and not giving a shit that my brother is two feet away, watching. “Save me that dance.” His warm lips graze my cheekbone, placing a soft kiss there before he takes off, leaving my twin and me alone.
“Vee,” Ryan whines. “No. Please no. Not him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t lie. You like him of all people?”
“I don’t…like him.” Keeping my eyes off my brother, I add, “But I don’t not like him either.”
“Stevie, that guy goes through women like it’s his job. He’s a fucking media personality that gives Chicago sports a bad name.”
“He’s not like that. There’s a lot more to him that outsiders don’t see.”
“And you’re not an outsider?” Ryan’s question might sound condescending to anyone else, but I know my brother, and with the worried expression he’s wearing right now, it’s simply just a concerned question.
“I don’t know. I think maybe I’m not. I think I might know more about him than most people.”
Ryan exhales a deep, resigned breath. “You’re an adult, so you can do what you want, and I trust your opinion, but Vee…I can’t see anything coming from this other than you getting hurt.”
His eyes are filled with worry and concern but no judgment.
Ironic, really, that his old college buddy is here and has been ten times worse to me than Zanders has ever treated me. But Ryan doesn’t know how Brett treated me the same way he doesn’t know how Zanders treats me—like I’m important.
“I love you, and I’m worried, is all.” He shoots me an apologetic smile before swinging his arm over my shoulders.
And that little reminder that he’s worried reminds me that maybe I should be too. That feeling the things I’m feeling, or trying not to feel, is exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t do after things ended with Brett and me.
And that’s having feelings for another athlete, especially one who is in the spotlight as much as Zanders is.
“Sorry to interrupt.” A gorgeous, tall woman slides up next to my brother, standing real close and not caring for my space one bit. “But I wanted to introduce myself.” She cuts in the area between Ryan and me, her back to my face.
Jesus. Maybe she should plaster “jersey chaser” on her forehead.
“I’m Rachel.”
“Ryan.” My brother holds out his hand to shake hers, but she holds on a little longer than necessary.
This bitch Rachel looks over her shoulder, her eyes connecting with mine, then back to scan the crowd as if she could get caught for being over here.
“I know who you are.” She turns back to Ryan. “I’ve seen you at a few city events, and I’ve always wanted to introduce myself.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, smacking me in the face with it. “I’ll be here all night, so come find me.”
She takes off but looks back, shooting my brother a wink.
“Absolutely not.”
Ryan laughs. “What, you can sleep with people I don’t like, but I can’t?”
“We aren’t…never mind.” Ryan doesn’t want to hear that. “And that chick is…no.”
“Just giving you shit. I’m good off that.” Ryan turns his back, leaning his forearms on the high-top table and clinking his beer bottle with mine. “We should make a twin pact where neither of us date.”
“Ha ha. Funny. Coming from the guy who doesn’t date.”
His eyes twinkle with mischief before he brings his beer to his lips.
“We aren’t dating either so that you know. Zanders and I.”
“So, what are you doing then? Because it sounds to me like the biggest d-bag in the city is fucking with my sister.”
I don’t know how to answer that, but before I can attempt, Maddison approaches our table.
“Hey.” He smiles, his hand intertwined with his wife’s.
“Hey, Stevie,” Logan adds with a slight wave.
“Hey, guys. Logan, you look beautiful. Green is your color.”
“I can say the same about you and blue. You look great. Are you two having a good time?”
“Yes. This place is amazing.”
Maddison and Logan’s eyes bounce between Ryan and me before I realize they haven’t been introduced. This is strange. Usually, my brother is the one everyone knows, and I’m the tag-along sister.
“Oh, my bad.” I turn towards my Ryan. “Ryan, this is Maddison, he’s the captain for the Raptors, and this is Logan.” I motion to the beauty with red hair. “They live in our building. And this is my brother, Ryan Shay.”
Logan’s cheeks turn a slight shade of rose. “I was going to come over here and pretend like I don’t know who you are, but the truth is, I’m a huge fan.”
Ryan laughs. “You’re married to the captain of the best hockey team in the league right now, and you’re a fan of mine?”
“Bullshit, right?” Maddison adds with sarcasm.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Logan begins. “I’m a hockey fan now, but basketball is my first love.”
Ryan clinks his bottle with Logan’s champagne flute. “My kind of people.”
“Well, we wanted to come over and say thank you guys for coming,” Maddison cuts in. “And Ryan, I saw you donated your family tickets and a one-on-one coaching session to the silent auction. That’s awesome, man, thank you.”
“Absolutely. Glad I could help out. This foundation you created is pretty fucking cool.”
“Well, actually, it’s not just me—” someone interrupts Maddison mid-sentence, whispering in his ear.
“That’s my cue,” Maddison says. “Be right back, baby.” He kisses his wife before following the man who interrupted him.
“Good luck!” Logan calls out before sliding around the table to stand next to me, both of us facing the stage where Maddison is headed.
“Shay!” Dom calls out from the bar.
Ryan knocks my shoulder. “You good?” I nod in response. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”
“You too,” she says before my brother takes off to hang out with his teammates.
Maddison takes the stage with the guy who swept him away.
“Who is that?” I ask Logan, only the two of us left at the high-top table, less than ten feet away from the stage.
“That’s Rich.” Logan rolls her eyes. “He’s Eli and Zee’s manager, and he’s the worst. I mean, he’s made the boys a ton of money, but morally, I’m not a fan.”
Watching Zanders take the stage with Maddison, my brows knit in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, they’re just going to do a welcome speech and thank everyone for coming out.”
“Zanders too?”
“Of course.” Logan lightly laughs. “He’s half of Active Minds. He and Eli started the foundation together four years ago.”
My lips slightly part. “What?” My stare is glued on the beautiful man on the stage as he gets prepped with a microphone.
“You didn’t know? He didn’t tell you?”
Shaking my head, I tell Logan no.
“He’s the person who got Eli into therapy back when we were in college, and he’s really passionate about helping kids find the support they need too. If it weren’t for Zee, I don’t know that Eli would be the man he is today.”
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m not ready to know this side of Zanders. I’m already fighting off my feelings. I don’t need to know he’s entirely self-aware and an activist when it comes to mental health.
My mouth feels dry as I try to swallow, so I chug the rest of my beer, needing the liquid as well as the courage.
“People meet him, or they hear about him in the tabloids or news, and they think they know him,” Logan continues. “They think they need to change him. Women try to change him. People assume he needs some huge development as a person, but the truth is Zee is an amazing guy, and he always has been. He’s the best friend to us, he treats our kids as his own, and he’s extremely protective. He loves hard and cares about his people like you wouldn’t believe. So, there’s nothing about him that needs to change. He just needs someone to accept who he is and appreciate what he brings to the table. He’s always going to be arrogant and unapologetic and blunt as hell, but those are things that make him who he is. He just needs someone to see who he already is and meet him there.”
My eyes stay glued to the stage as Maddison and Zanders approach the front, but my heart is beating a mile a minute.
“He needs someone to protect him too.”
Don’t blink. Don’t blink. Don’t blink.
There’s a bit of moisture forming at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t know why. I just feel overwhelmed at this moment, learning about a massive part of who Zanders is.
One thing I find solace in when it comes to Zanders is his inability to lie. I’ve been lied to more times than I’d like to admit, but with Zanders, it’s been entirely freeing knowing that he’s going to say exactly what’s on his mind. But here he is, lying about who he is, and regardless of him lying to hide an amazing part of his life, it throws me off in an unexpected way.
Why doesn’t he let people see this side to him?
“Why didn’t he say anything?” I whisper, but my question is too quiet for Logan to hear.
I’m wholly glued in as Zanders and Maddison give their welcome speech. And during that speech, I learn all about the turning point in their lives that caused both the boys to get into therapy. And although Zanders doesn’t refer to his mother as the reason he felt so angry twelve years ago, I know she’s the reason why he felt abandoned.
They touch on their bond and how they were once hated rivals growing up, but their journey to find mental freedom is what caused them to connect and grow the friendship they have now.
They speak on behalf of some of the kids in their organization who have benefited from the donations they’ve collected over the years and where tonight’s donations will go.
But even after their speeches, I still have one major, looming question.
Why doesn’t Zanders let people see this side to him?
