“I don’t care where I am. If you have a night free, or you just want to avoid making the trek back into the city, you go to mine. I’ll give you codes to the alarm system, but the key is yours. You don’t ask for permission; you just walk in.”
“Aston,” she whispers, her voice cracking as her thumb traces the key. “This is … not a casual gesture.”
“I’m aware,” I say, leaning down, pressing my forehead against hers, my hands coming up to cradle her face. “We’ll figure out a schedule that works for us. But until we do, you hold onto that.”
She closes her eyes for a minute, then grips my forearms. “Okay,” she whispers against my lips. “I’ll keep it safe.”
We get lost in a kiss that has more meaning than heat.
“I'd better get going. I need to get this piece we just did on Liam put together and turned in,” she says as she pulls away.
“Okay, but you promise to use the key?”
“I promise. But you know this means you can’t steal my panties anymore, right?” She pulls her cardigan back over her shoulders and runs her fingers through her hair. Sure, she looks freshly fucked, but knowing I put that glow on her face, yeah … that does something to me.
“I won’t need to steal them because you’ll be getting your own undies drawer that I can snoop around in anytime.” I wink at her.
“You’re too much. But I dig that kink.” She kisses me quickly on the lips. “I really gotta go. I don’t think I can make it there tonight, but Iwillsee you soon, Griff.”
She kisses me one last time before walking out the door.
“Later, Carrington,” I say as I watch her walk out of the locker room.
After I finish dressing, I take the condom out of my shortsand take it to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. I wash my hands, then walk back to my locker and finish packing up my duffel bag.
I see a few people on my way out and smile and wave, but I don’t stop to talk. When I step outside, it’s freezing, but bright streaks of yellow stretch across the empty outdoor practice field. The rumble of the ground crew signals the start of their day, just as mine is wrapping up.
I climb into the cab of my truck, the leather cold against my back, and sit with my hands on the steering wheel for a long minute.
My mind wanders back to the way Eva looks when she’s working. The way she runs her crew and commands the field without losing an inch of grace. And then I think about how she shattered when she came. She wantedme.
Ace is my twin, my other half, and I know the storm that’ll come when I finally tell him the truth. He’s going to feel betrayed. And I can’t lie, and I say that doesn’t bother me. I don’t want anyone to be hurt.
I finally start my truck and make my way home, the highway moving by in a blur. The certainty in my chest about Eva hasn't wavered, despite how I feel about the effect this will have on my brother.
Ace might think there’s a chance, but just because he had her once doesn’t mean there’s still a blank page left for him to write in. He doesn’t know what we’re building. He doesn’t know that the girl she was has become the woman making my world shine brighter.
I can’t and won’t step back. I’ll find the right time, and then I’ll shoulder the weight of his anger. But until then, Eva isn’t a college memory for me. She’s everything.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EVA
The engineof my Range Rover Evoque ticks as it cools under the gray canopy of the mid-November sky. I sit in my car for a minute and look at Aston’s house, taking in the stone and the heavy wood door. It’s masculine, but there’s a homeyness to it that feels perfect for him.
I step out of my car and grab my travel bag and a grocery bag from the back seat. When I get to the door, I pull out my key and turn the lock. When I enter, I type in the code that Aston gave me yesterday, and the red light turns green.
The house doesn’t really need overhead lighting; the floor-to-ceiling windows let in a soft, muted light, casting a quiet, peaceful glow across the wide-plank cedar floors.
I take off my shoes, then take a slow, deep breath, letting the scent of his world pull me into the present and not back in my office. The house smells exactly like him—a rich, comforting blend of seasoned oak woodsmoke, leather, and a hint of spice from his cologne.
I drop my bag and the groceries by the staircase, then walk toward the stone fireplace, my bare feet silent against the wood.
This place might just look like a big, beautiful home from the outside, but looking at it now, I realize this is a living gallery of the man beneath the shoulder pads. On the mantle sits a row of frames, so I step forward to get a closer look. I haven’t taken the time to look around in the few times I’ve been here, but I’m going to take my time now. I want to knowhim.
There’s an older photo of sun-bleached identical, dirt-streaked boys, their arms thrown around each other’s shoulders as they grin into the camera lens, both wearing oversized football jerseys. Ace and Aston. I trace the glass over Aston’s face, my heart doing a strange little flop. Even as a young boy, he had the same quiet intensity.
Next to it is a massive group photo, with a beautiful sunset in the background, rolling hills, and a sea of gorgeous blond people and two brunettes. Archie, his wife Emma, their daughter Lainey, Aiden, Ace, Aston, Austin, Jesse, and his parents, Shane and Alicia. The Griffith family. A dynasty of athletic talent and sharp eyes. And every single face has a genuine smile, like they're truly happy just to be in each other’s presence. I notice that Aston’s father has the same lines Aston wears when he’s deep in thought.
