Comeback (The Holland Brothers Book 3)

“I think I need to go on a date or something,” I confess to Olivia Friday afternoon. She and Greer came by after school and I’m taking a much-needed break from painting.

“What about hottie roommate?” Olivia asks.

I glare at her until she laughs.

“What? You can’t tell me about late night talks over warm milk and not expect me to daydream about your future babies.”

“Woah there. The only baby I need is Greer.”

Olivia looks over to where her daughter is dancing in the middle of the studio. “She is perfect.”

Even amidst the empty place, so far from how I imagine the final product, it makes my insides all soft and gooey to see a kid dancing here. Carefree and full of life and fun. That’s what I want the studio to be.

“So will you help me?” I ask my best friend.

“You want me to set you up or something?” She arches one brow at me.

My stomach twists at the idea of a blind date, but I try to keep an open mind. “Do you know anyone?”

“If I did, I’d be keeping him to myself. All my dates are from apps and they’re awful.”

“Then let’s go out together.” My eyes widen with excitement. I am not great at going out and meeting people, but with Olivia, I’m certain we can manage to meet a couple of decent guys. She’s beautiful and interesting, and I can just nod along and hope someone falls in love with my wonderful personality while I also do nothing but smile and nod.

“Or we could stay in, order takeout, and binge watch TV.” She nods back enthusiastically.

“We are going out,” I say definitively. Her objection to the idea has me more sure that it’s exactly what both of us need.

She snarls like I’ve suggested something truly awful.

“Greer is with her grandparents this weekend, right?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s perfect. We’re both off Saturday night. Date night with my bestie.”

“I was planning to deep clean the refrigerator.”

“That can be our backup plan if it goes badly.”

She still looks like she wants to protest but with a sigh she says, “I am going to hold you to that.”

I reach out my hand and hold up my pinky finger. She links hers to mine and it’s all settled.

When I get home later that evening, Brogan is in the kitchen dumping protein powder into a large shaker cup.

“Hey,” I say, dropping my keys onto the counter. “Where is everyone?”

And by everyone, I mean Archer. I’ve only seen him once since they got back from Texas. The only reason I know he’s been home at all is because when I get home from the club, I can hear his music going.

“Hey, little sister.” Brogan smiles at me as he puts the top on the cup and shakes it. “London is helping a friend hang some art pieces, which I’m pretty sure means they’re drinking wine and talking about me, and Archer was still at the stadium when I left. What have you been up to?”

“I was at the studio.”

“How’s that coming?”

“Good,” I say. “Slow. There’s still a lot of cosmetic things to do, but the windows are all fixed finally.”

“Nice.” He smiles and nods his head. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“Yeah, you should come by sometime. I can show you around and then we could grab lunch or something. There’s so many cute places in that area.”

“For sure.” The way his face lights up reminds me of what London said. How Brogan is playing it cool with me. It isn’t that I doubted it, but there are moments like this where I get glimpses of how much he wants us to be close. I want that too.

“Perfect. Let me know when you’re free.”

“I will.” He leans back against the counter. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“I’m working at Lilac Lounge tonight, and tomorrow, I’m going out with Olivia to find my next boyfriend.”

His brows rise and I giggle, having appropriately surprised him.

“Tell me more. I didn’t realize girls just decided something like this. And where does one go to pick out a boyfriend?” His eyes twinkle with amusement as he waits for my answer.

“Somewhere nice. Not too pretentious but somewhere men dress up in something other than T-shirts and ball caps.” Which I realize as I say it is basically how he and Archer dress all the time. “No offense.”

“None taken. I rock a basic tee.”

I laugh, but when I think of Archer, I realize he’s probably right. Neither of them needs to worry about dressing up to impress anyone.

“A hat on the other hand…my head is too big. And I have great hair.”

“If women had your confidence, we’d rule the world.”

He keeps right on grinning at me.

“So, somewhere nice-ish,” he says, playing along.

“Right, but no clubs or bars because those are primarily where people go to hook up.”

“Which leaves?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Bowling?”

He nods along. “Or paintball?”

“I don’t look cute in goggles.”

He huffs another laugh. “Movie theater?”

“Most people don’t like it when I talk during a movie.”

“Me either,” he says in a voice that tells me he’s also been shushed many times. “I don’t get it.”

“Same.”

We’re smiling at each other, and it feels good, like this is a moment we might have shared a million other times if we’d grown up together.

“We’ll probably end up going out to eat or something,” I say, returning to mine and Olivia’s plans for tomorrow.

“There’s that new bar and grill with pickleball courts.”

I make a face. “Sweating off my makeup isn’t my idea of fun either.”

“You don’t have to play. Grab dinner and drinks and just hang out. It’s always packed, and guys love to show off for pretty women.”

I consider it. I don’t have any better ideas.

“Thanks.” I stand from the stool. “I better get ready for work. See you later?”

With his schedule, I see less of him than I thought I would living here.

“We have a home game Sunday,” he says as he pushes away from the counter.

“I already told London I’d be her plus one.”

His lips pull apart in a wide smile.

I start for my room and then stop and turn back. “Thank you for the flowers.”

After I confided in him about my mom being sick last winter, he sent a dozen white roses.

“Oh.” His face takes on a slight blush. “It was nothing.”

“It was nice, and it meant a lot.”

He continues to look embarrassed but also a little proud.

“If you want, I’d love to introduce you to my parents sometime.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, if that’s not too weird.” It feels like every move one of us makes is careful and too considerate. Someday I hope that won’t be the case. “It might be a while before they’re up to traveling, but I know they’d love to meet the brother I’ve been talking about for almost a year.”

“Nah. It wouldn’t be weird,” he says. “I’d like to meet them too.”

On Saturday night, I force a still reluctant Olivia out of the house, and we take an Uber to Sweet Pickle. It’s only been open a month, but it has become a hot spot for twenty and thirty-somethings.

Inside tables are spaced around one half of the restaurant and a long bar stretches across the other side. There are cutesy signs with pickleball rules and sayings all over the wall, but somehow it doesn’t feel cheesy. Maybe it’s the women in dresses holding cocktails like they’re spectators at the US Open that keeps it from looking like a dive. The pickleball courts are outside, with a patio, providing more seating to eat, drink, or watch people playing.

“I feel like I need eye protection,” Olivia says after we grab drinks and head outside.

It’s nice out. The nights are finally starting to feel like fall. We manage to snag a seat at a bar top table that looks straight onto the courts.

Thankfully the guys playing on the closest court seem to be well in control of their balls.

“You know, it doesn’t escape my notice that you have an in with professional football players and instead we’re here watching guys play pickleball.”

“Pickleball is the fastest growing sport,” I tell her. I read it when I was looking up the restaurant.

“Uh-huh.” She pulls something up on her phone and then sets it down in front of me. It’s a picture of Archer at practice splashed across the team’s social media page. He’s in football pants, but his pads up top are gone and so is his helmet. His hair is sweaty and slicked back, and a navy T-shirt stretches across his chest. I’ve seen it before. In fact, I’m the one who sent it to her.

I swallow. Hard. Then take another sip of my wine before I say, “You bitch.”

She laughs as she takes her phone back. “Any more late-night run-ins?”

“No. Nothing. He’s been gone all week.”

“You should have kissed him again.”

“We’re friends,” I enunciate the word carefully.

“Uh huh…” She unlocks her phone and flashes me the photo one more time.

“Delete that picture right now.”

“You sent it to me.”

“I was trying to be a good friend by sharing all that sweaty hotness with you. I didn’t think you were going to use it to torture me.”

“First of all, he’s not really my type. Undeniably hot, yes, but I prefer someone a little more down to earth.”

“Archer is very down to earth,” I say, feeling myself get defensive.

“Honey, he is a professional football player. I’m sure he’s very nice but he does not live in the same world that we do. Or that I do. You are literally living in their world now.”

“They aren’t that different. Taller and more muscular.”

“More money.”

“Yeah, but they spend it on typical guy stuff like sneakers and electronics.”

She snorts a laugh. “All I’m saying is my type is more practical. No guy living his best life making millions of dollars and who can get literally any woman he wants, is interested in a twenty-three-year-old single mom.”

“They should be so lucky. Greer is amazing and you are a fucking catch.” My whole body heats at the thought of anyone looking over my best friend and her daughter as less than.

“Someday, maybe, when they’re on their second marriages and already have a couple of kids of their own.” She waves one hand in the air and looks off into the distance like she’s seeing her future.

We giggle, but I sense the sadness in her even as she jokes.

“You are going to find someone great who adores you and Greer.”

She nods but her expression isn’t completely convinced. “Do you think I’m going to find him here?”

We spend the next hour drinking and talking and scoping out the single men. When two guys approach us, we’ve had just enough wine to entertain the idea. Though pretty much immediately I’m not feeling the guy that’s obviously picked me in this foursome.

Billy is twenty-five, in sales, and a big fan of pickleball, his new sports car, and talking about himself. When he starts telling me about how he’s just started brewing his own beer in his garage, I glance at Olivia.

She seems to be faring better with her guy, Rob. He has his arm around the back of her chair and stares down at her adoringly. As he should. Though I can’t help but judge him slightly for his friend, who is literally boring me to sleep.

I take another large gulp of wine and pry my eyes open wide as I try to feign interest, but an entire group of women standing by our table all turn toward the doors and shriek with the kind of excitement that has me wondering what’s going on.

It only takes a few seconds to figure out why and who they’re looking at. My brother is here. My brother and his best friend.

I make eye contact with Archer across the bar and my face warms. Damn. A week without seeing him in person and I forgot. Sure, sweaty practice Archer is hot but this one walking toward me makes my pulse race.

He elbows Brogan and then nods his head toward me. I drop my gaze and fall back, pretending like I’m listening intently to Billy. If he noticed at all that my attention had wavered, it doesn’t seem to bother him because he’s still droning on about his brewing process. Also, I’ll admit I might be a bad date. I couldn’t seem to focus on a single thing Billy said even before Archer walked in.

As discreetly as possible, I nudge Olivia under the table. She tears her gaze away from Rob and looks at me. I widen my eyes and ever so slightly tip my head toward where I last saw Archer and Brogan. She isn’t getting it at all.

I’m just about to attempt to mouth it out to her when her stare lifts to someone behind me and a huge grin takes over her face. That and the goosebumps racing up my arms tells me that Archer is close.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Brogan says.

I swivel around and face the guys, sending Brogan a questioning look. “Hi!”

I stand, because frankly I don’t know what else to do. I hug Brogan and then because it feels awkward not to, I step to Archer.

His hands wrap around my back, and I nuzzle against his chest for a brief moment. He smells good, that cologne that Brogan likes to tease him about really does something for me.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask. I glance back at the table. Billy looks unimpressed by the two guys in front of me. In fact, I’d say he’s a little pissed.

“I heard you were on a date.” Brogan puffs out his chest slightly. He’s already a big guy so it’s not exactly necessary. In fact, it looks like he’s about to bust out of his white T-shirt.

“I wouldn’t call it a—” I start, but my brother pulls out the chair I’d just been sitting in and moves it closer to Billy before taking a seat.

“Hi. I’m Brogan.” He tips his head in my general direction. “Sabrina’s older brother.”

“What is happening?” I whisper to Archer as we watch on.

“It’s hard to explain.” Archer is fighting a smile, and I feel my own lips pull up to mirror his.

“Try,” I say firmly.

Brogan and Billy are now shaking hands and by the way that Billy is wincing, I’d say Brogan is squeezing his fingers unnecessarily hard.

“He’s looking out for you. Being a protective big brother.”

A startled laugh escapes my lips. “What?”

Archer turns to me, and I forget all about Billy and his possibly crushed finger bones. “You told him you were going out to find a boyfriend. What’d you expect him to do?”

“Nothing,” I answer honestly, then it hits me. “Oh my god. Is he here to try and scare off my date?”

Archer looks at me in a way that tells me I’m finally getting warmer. “He’s your brother. He thinks it’s his responsibility.”

I should maybe be mad, but it’s hilarious, considering how glad I am to be away from Billy. All I can do is laugh.

“We just want to make sure he knows that if he hurts you, we’ll kick his ass.”

“We’ll?”

An arrogant smirk tugs up one side of his mouth.

“This is unnecessary.”

He keeps smiling as he brushes past me. He finds a free chair nearby and pulls it to sit on the other side of Billy, who now looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

I head to the bar for another glass of wine. I have a feeling I’m going to need it. Olivia joins me a minute later.

“Don’t say it,” I warn her. She’s smiling a little too smugly.

“I wasn’t going to say a word.”

We watch as Brogan and Archer talk with Billy. Rob’s joined in on their conversation and while it looks friendly enough, I can’t imagine what they’re saying.

Olivia is quiet for as long as she can stand it when she says, “Okay, but if I were going to say something, it’s just that I think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet that they marched in here to ruin what could have been a great first date?”

“Oh please, you’re only here entertaining other guys because you have it bad for your hottie roommate and you don’t want to admit it.”

I glower at her. “I liked you better when you weren’t saying a word.”

She laughs then we both fall quiet.

“Brogan’s a pretty good guy,” she says more sincerely.

“Yeah, he is. Slightly clueless but there’s something very endearing about him.”

“And Archer.”

I shoot her another glare that absolutely does not intimidate her.

“He’s not clueless, honey, and neither are you. He wants you. You want him.”

“He friend-zoned me.”

“Only because of his relationship with Brogan.” A slow smile spreads across her face. “It just occurred to me; Brogan marched in here to threaten your date when the guy he should be threatening is his best friend.”

Groaning, I let my head fall forward.

“Ah, cheer up. This night was very entertaining.” She drains the rest of her glass and sets it on the bar, then takes a step away, shifting her purse to her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To deep clean my fridge.” She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “Call me later and let me know how this all ends.”