Kendrick pushes open a door at the end of the hall upstairs and grins. “Here’s your room, Whit. Hope you like it—it’s the best one in the house.”
It’s a massive, breathtaking room, filled with sunlight and furniture straight from a designer magazine.
“Okay, I know you didn’t design this room,” I say.
“Hell no! I’ve got people for that.”
“My brother has people,” I say with a laugh.
“Only downside is you’re staying beside Gabriel and have to share a bathroom. He’s having his new house remodeled, so he’s staying with me till it’s finished.”
“Hope your walls aren’t thin.”
Kendrick laughs and shakes his head.
“Naw, I think he has his eyes set on someone special. I’m just waiting for the day when he finally gets the balls to tell me.”
“Really? Who is she?”
He smirks.
“You’ll know when I do, Whit.”
He pulls me into a bear hug.
“I really am glad you decided to come, Whit. I’ve missed my family.”
“I’m glad I came too.”
I let my hair dry freely down my back so my curls will come out and put on very minimal makeup. Making my way back downstairs, I smell food. Someone is grilling, and it smells amazing.
I run into bleach-blonde Barbie again. She flashes me a fake-ass smile and says, “Sorry for earlier. I didn’t realize you were Kendrick’s sister.”
I cross my arms. “How you treat people when you don’t know who they are is very telling, don’t you think?”
She shifts uncomfortably. “Well… maybe we can be friends. You know, since I’m Kendrick’s girl.”
I raise a brow. “Funny, he’s never mentioned you.”
Her smirk falters, and she walks away.
I notice Kendrick is shaking his head and laughing. He grabs Gabriel and points in my direction.
“Tell me you didn’t sleep with her!”
Kendrick holds his hands up in front of him.
“Hell no! That’s what we call a cleat chaser. I wouldn’t go near that!”
“A what?” I ask.
“A cleat chaser,” Gabriel says. “It’s a woman that will sleep with any player in hopes of being that player’s girlfriend or wife.”
“You mean that’s a thing?”
“Oh, yeah,” they say together.
“She told me earlier I didn’t belong here. Said the honky-tonk bar was down the street.”
Now both men are laughing their asses off and holding each other up.
“Whatever, I’d take a cowboy,” I say as I head toward the smell of food. “As long as he has a decent package and can make me scream, I’m fine with a cowboy. I hear they have damn good stamina too. Where’s the grill? I need some damn meat!”
I leave them behind me, no longer laughing. Gabriel’s chin is just about on the floor.
“Wait, what?” Gabriel asks.
“Whitley!”
I’m sitting on a pool chair with a fat burger in my hand when Gabriel sits down next to me.
“Umm, you have something right here, and here. Well hell, Whit, you’re wearing the whole damn burger.”
“I was hungry,” I say with a full mouth.
“Obviously. Hold on, let me get you a wet towel.”
Unlike some of these stick-thin, bleach-blonde Barbies, I’m not afraid to eat. Never have been. I guess that’s why I have curves. This burger? Yeah, I’m sure it will go to my ass along with everything else. Though I haven’t had any complaints in the rear-end department. Most men love it. I’m in the gym training just about every day, and I run to clear my mind.
“Here. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Gabriel says when he returns, towel in hand.
Gabriel goes about cleaning my face and arms where grease from the burger has dripped down.
“I’m not a child, Gabriel. I’m pretty sure I can clean myself.”
He laughs.
“Just helping, Whit. I’d hate to try and make you put that burger down.”
I chuckle as a dollop of ketchup falls on my leg. Messy burgers are the best burgers. Gabriel leans down to wipe it off and rubs his finger over the scar where doctors had to put pins in my lower leg.
“Gabriel.”
“Has it completely healed?” he asks.
“Do you really want to talk about this?”
He looks up at me with those dark-brown eyes. They’re the color of dark chocolate with golden specks floating through them.
“Whitley.”
“It’s not your fault, Gabriel. Nobody knew she was following me.”
No one knew that one of the girls on the cheer squad at Alabama had a massive crush on Gabriel and didn’t like the time he spent around me.
“But it was me she was trying to keep you away from.”
“Only because she thought we were together. No matter how many times I told her you were just my brother’s best friend, she still went batshit crazy.”
“And I just left afterwards.”
“You were drafted, Gabriel.”
It all went down the night Gabriel and Kendrick entered the NFL draft. She saw me hug Gabriel. That was her undoing. As I was walking to my car afterwards, she came after me with a steel pipe.
“I didn’t even know who she was,” Gabriel says.
“I know.”
He stares. I know he wants to say he’s sorry.
“Whitley—”
I hold up my hand to stop whatever he’s about to say.
“It’s not your fault, Gabriel. Don’t you dare apologize for something you have no blame for. Crazy gonna crazy. I landed on my feet, didn’t I?”
He just nods. I know he still feels guilty, but there really isn’t anything for him to feel guilty for.
“Gabriel, baby. Let’s go finish what we started earlier,” purrs yet another Malibu Barbie as she walks up to where we are sitting.
As I get to the top of the stairs, I look down and notice Gabriel is standing at the bottom looking up at me. The girl is still hanging off his arm, but he’s looking at me.
I get ready for bed and slide beneath the covers. The sheets are silky smooth, the pillow plush enough to swallow me whole—yeah, my brother is definitely spending his NFL money well.
I’m exhausted after the drive and fall asleep fast. But as soon as my eyes close, the darkness twists, and the nightmare comes for me again.
A dark parking lot.
Steps echo behind me.
The gleam of a pipe.
My legs won’t move.
I know what’s coming, but can’t stop it.
The crack of metal.
The attack begins.
Then I hear a voice from somewhere in the distance.
“Whitley! Please wake up, baby!”
I feel something shaking me.
My eyes snap open.
I scream, “No! We’re not together!”
But it’s not my attacker I’m looking at.
Gabriel’s face is soft with worry.
“It’s me. You’re safe, Whit, you’re safe. It was just a dream.”
I nod and hug him around the neck. He takes me in his arms and holds me tight. After a few minutes, I start to calm down. Usually it takes me hours to recover from these nightmares, but in Gabriel’s arms I feel safe.
“Thank you, Gabriel. And sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for, Whit. You want me to stay with you until you fall back asleep?”
I’m still in his arms, and it feels so natural I don’t want to move. All I can think about is what it would be like to stay here, wrapped up in him all night. To wake up with his arms still around me.
But if he stays, what will happen? One touch too long, one look too deep, and I know exactly where it would lead.
And how Kendrick would react.
By the hunger in Gabriel’s eyes, I can see he’s just as torn as I am.
“Stay,” I breathe, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
