Comeback (The Holland Brothers Book 3)

“Poor Billy,” Sabrina says as Brogan tells the story (not for the first time) of how we crashed her date earlier this week.

“We showed up in our T-shirts and baseball caps and showed him what was up.”

“Wait!” Sabrina shrieks. “You wore that on purpose?”

Brogan’s lips curl up and he nods.

“I should have known,” she says, but her tone doesn’t hold any malice.

We had an afternoon game today and came to the bar near the apartment after, where we’ve had a chill night. A lot of the guys have already left, but a small group of us remains at a table in the back.

“You weren’t even into the guy,” Brogan says.

Sabrina looks to London with her mouth agape.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell him but look at this face.” She grabs Brogan’s jaw and purses her lips at him.

“Fine. Good riddance Billy, but what if I had been with some great guy and you waltzed in and scared him off?” Sabrina demands, but she’s smiling so big it’s easy to see she isn’t that upset.

Brogan shakes his head adamantly. “The right guy isn’t going to run like that.”

“Uh…I would.” Tripp raises his hand. “If her brother’s crazy, then she probably is too.”

Sabrina scowls playfully across the table. “Great. I’m doomed.”

Everyone falls into quiet laughter. Sabrina sits back in her chair and glances over at me.

I take a drink of my beer and force my gaze away from her. I shouldn’t be so glad that we scared off her date or to find out that she wasn’t into him. Even thinking about her bringing some other dude home has me irrationally jealous and possessive. I’d help Brogan scare off every guy in a hundred-mile radius if I thought she wouldn’t turn around and kick our asses in return.

Brogan wants to feel like he’s looking out for her, doing what any big brother would, and I get that. It’s why I rolled into the restaurant with him and detailed out for Billy all the bones I’d break if he treated Sabrina like anything but the queen she is. However, she’s not a damsel in distress.

She doesn’t really need us to look out for her, but there’s something about her independence and self-sufficiency that makes me want to take care of her even more. Because she’s my best friend’s sister. And because I can’t stop thinking about her.

I spent all week at the stadium, working out, getting in extra skill sessions, watching game film, and avoiding the apartment where I might run into her. And still, she occupied most of my thoughts.

I get up quietly from the table and head to the bar.

The bartender tips his head to me as I approach. I lift my empty bottle and set it down on the bar. He returns a moment later with a fresh beer.

“Thanks,” I say, then turn to stare back at the table I just left.

Sabrina sits with her profile to me. She’s leaning forward with one elbow propped up on the table, smiling at something someone’s said. Her red hair is down tonight and falls over her shoulders. She’s in jean shorts and a black tank top. She isn’t dressed to draw attention but somehow my stare is drawn to her anyway.

A woman steps up to my peripheral.

“Nice game today,” she says.

I tear my gaze away from the woman I most definitely should not be staring at and angle my body toward the one at my side. “Thank you.”

I’m always a little uneasy when women approach me these days. Every once in a while, there’s someone who is only interested in me because of what they think it’ll do for them: party invites, tickets, pictures for social media, introductions to other players. It’s a trip.

“I’m not a stalker or anything. I just happened to be at the game for a work thing and I recognized you guys when you came in.”

I nod my understanding. “A work thing?”

“I’m in sales and my boss was entertaining clients in one of the sky boxes. I think I was supposed to be there to convince them to sign with us, but I got a little distracted by the game.”

I feel my mouth pulling up at one corner. It was a good game today. Not that I had much of a part in it. After my last two less than stellar performances, Graham has continued to be Coach’s go-to guy. I really hate him, but he’s putting up better numbers than I am so I can’t really blame Coach.

“I’m Sharee by the way.” She extends one hand to me.

“Archer,” I say as I take it and give it a small squeeze.

Sharee is a pretty woman. Dark skin and hair and curvy in all the right places. There probably isn’t a guy in this bar who wouldn’t be flattered she approached them. But I can’t help but compare her to Sabrina. Stupid things that don’t even matter. She’s not as tall. I’d have to bend down uncomfortably to kiss her. Her perfume is different. Not unpleasant but she doesn’t smell like Sabrina. I’ve officially lost my damn mind.

“Hey. There you are. I was looking for you.” The woman I seem to be obsessed with comes out of nowhere. She wraps an arm around my shoulders and that fruity scent has me instantly leaning closer to her. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m aware that she’s being friendlier and touchier than normal, but I’m enjoying it too much to think about it too hard.

“I’m so sorry,” Sharee says. “I didn’t know you were with someone.”

“Oh, he’s not.” Sabrina shakes her head and smiles at the other woman. “I’m his brother’s sister.”

The woman thinks for a moment. “Doesn’t that make you his sister?”

“No.” Sabrina shakes her head. “But I see how you could think that.”

Sabrina sticks out her hand. “I’m Sabrina.”

“Sharee.”

The two shake quickly and when Sabrina pulls her hand back, she steps in front of me with her arms crossed. Surprise makes my lips curl up. What the hell is she up to?

Sabrina turns her face to look back at me as she asks, “What are your intentions with Archer?”

I bark out a laugh.

“Umm…” Sharee looks at me and smiles like we’re in on the joke together but then glances at Sabrina who has not faltered in her body language.

“Oh, you’re serious,” Sharee says and clears her throat. “Well, I think he’s cute so worst-case scenario, some flirting over drinks and best-case scenario, he asks for my number.”

“That is a very good answer.” Sabrina’s brows crease as she lets her arms drop to her sides. She turns to fully face me. “Women are a lot harder to scare off than men.”

I chuckle softly. Fuck, she’s funny. And pretty. And dammit I am trying hard not to go there but my brain and my body are both in sync on this. I want my best friend’s sister.

Sabrina turns back to Sharee and says something I don’t quite catch because my attention is on her ass and her red hair falling down her back and how if I stepped up just a few inches closer, she’d be pressed against me.

This time when Sabrina faces me, she doesn’t have that same sassy and fun look on her face. Maybe it’s hopeful thinking but I swear there’s a hint of sadness in her expression.

She takes a step to leave. “Have fun, roomie.”

I buy Sharee a drink and we sit and chat for a while. She’s nice, beautiful, and leaves no room for doubt that she’s into me.

“I should get home,” she says, checking the time on her phone. “I really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Yeah, same.” And I did. It kept my mind off Sabrina, if only for a short while.

I scan the bar now looking for her. The last time I saw her, she was playing pool with Tripp. I find my teammate talking to a woman I don’t recognize, but no Sabrina. Dammit. I stand, panic works its way through my veins. Did she leave already? Brogan and London are still here. Surely, they wouldn’t have let her go on her own or at the very least made sure she got home safe.

Sharee stands and places some cash in the tip jar. “I’d invite you to come with me, but something tells me this isn’t happening.”

She doesn’t look pissed, more resigned, which somehow makes me feel like an asshole.

“I really did enjoy talking to you, but there’s someone else.”

“A girlfriend?”

“No, nothing like that but I still wouldn’t feel right about it.”

She nods, scanning my face like she’s checking for the sincerity in my words. “Thanks for the drink. Good luck with the rest of the season.”

I tip my head to her as she walks off. I catch Tripp’s eye across the bar, and he lifts both brows in question as he takes in the scene. I ignore the ‘you’re an idiot’ look he gives me as I walk around the bar looking for Sabrina. I pull out my phone to text her, but I don’t know what to say.

Stopping by Brogan, I place one hand on his shoulder.

“Bestie!” he calls, eyes droopy from alcohol and mouth in a lazy smile.

London laughs. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

He looks at me. “She wants to get me naked.”

She laughs, not bothering to deny it. “Come on, big guy. Uber will be here in five. Are you coming Archer?”

“Maybe. Have you seen…” My words trail off as I finally spot her. Sabrina is standing with Slade on the far side of the bar. He has his phone out and they stare at it together, standing close. Too close.

“Grab Sabrina and meet us outside.” London pats me on the chest as she and Brogan move past me toward the front of the bar.

The panic in my chest eases, but my heart rate continues to race as I make my way to Sabrina. Her laugh registers when I get close.

Slade drapes one big, beefy arm over her shoulders. An arm I’d like to break. Slade is a big dude. I’d only get one move on him before he’d pummel me into the ground, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining him bleeding and begging me for mercy. I like Slade. Or I used to.

They’re still huddled together when Slade looks over the top of Sabrina’s head and sees me approaching. He smiles but whatever expression he sees on my face has that smile faltering.

He moves his arm from Sabrina. “You good, Holland?”

Slightly better now that he’s not touching her.

Sabrina swivels around as he speaks. Her brows pinch together.

“Fine,” I say in a gruff tone I barely recognize. “Brogan and London are waiting on us.”

“Oh. Okay.” She glances at Slade. “You have to send me that.”

Slade is still looking from me to her, like he’s trying to decipher what’s happening. “Sure, babydoll. Put your number in my phone.”

My veins fill with fire, and this time when I narrow my gaze at Slade, he smirks back. He fucking smirks. Fucker knows exactly how much he’s pissing me off. And he also knows I’m not about to call him on it.

“There you go.” Sabrina hands his phone back. “See you later.”

“For sure.” He wraps his arms around her, still aiming that knowing smirk at me. “Always a highlight.”

She leans into his embrace. “Aww that’s so nice.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come check out my waterbed?”

She laughs and swats at his big beefy chest playfully. “You’re such a flirt.”

He holds on a little too long.

“Okay, okay. We gotta go.” I reach for Sabrina. My fingers curl around her wrist and she comes to me easily with a light tug. I don’t let go.

“Have a nice night,” Slade says while wiggling his fingers in a wave. I flip him off over my head as I pull Sabrina away from him.

She says something, but I’m looking forward and don’t quite make out her words. She pulls free from my hold on her wrist but latches onto my bicep to walk with me. When we get outside, Brogan and London are nowhere to be seen. I glance all around for the Uber and then check my phone to see if either of them sent a text.

Sabrina’s fingers tap on my inner arm to get my attention. When I look at her, she asks, “Are you okay?”

“Honestly?”

She nods, expression morphing into concern.

“No. I don’t think I am.” My gaze drops to her lips. “Are you into Slade?”

“What?” That concern turns to amusement. “No. Did you not hear me turn down his waterbed for the second time?”

“You were laughing and standing close.”

“Yeah,” she says the word slowly. “He was showing me funny cat videos.”

“Cat videos?”

“I like cats.”

I stare at her, studying her expression. “That’s it? You don’t want to hook up with Slade?”

“What is happening right now?” She laughs lightly. “Brogan and London were being all cutesy and you were occupied so I hung out with your teammates. Why are you being so weird?”

“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair.

“You’re jealous right now. Is that what this is?” She laughs louder and I cut a glare to her that doesn’t frighten her in the least.

A car pulls up in front of us and the front passenger window rolls down. Brogan sticks his head out. “Get in, losers, we’re going to get tacos.”