Comeback (The Holland Brothers Book 3)

“I think that’s the last of it,” Brogan says as we bring the final two boxes into the spare bedroom.

He sets his box down on the ground and I do the same. Sabrina didn’t have a lot, but the room is already starting to look completely different. The navy comforter on the queen-size bed has been replaced by a fluffy white one. Two purple pillows rest against the headboard. Makeup and perfume and other toiletries line the top of a dresser. And several pairs of heels are strewn across the bed like she dumped them out of her suitcase but hasn’t figured out where to put them.

“Thank you,” she says, coming out of the closet where she’s hanging her clothes. “I told you I could get the boxes myself.”

She did tell us that and I was happy to let her do it, but Brogan wouldn’t hear of it. It’s maybe the one time in our lives that I wish he weren’t such a nice guy. This whole situation has me acting like an asshole and I don’t relish it.

“We got something else for you, too.” Brogan leaves the room temporarily. I hang inside the doorway, feeling awkward in my own apartment. I really hope she doesn’t get too comfortable here. She claims she’s going to keep looking for a studio space that could double as an apartment, but why would she do that when she’s living here basically for free?

She would be staying here for free if Brogan had his way. He offered, and to her credit she demanded to pay her share. Which Brogan seriously played down. Her rent doesn’t even cover the utilities.

I don’t care about the money. It’s just her being in my space all the time. I already feel like I can’t breathe. The whole apartment feels different with her here to stay. Nervous energy has me wanting to pace or pull at my hair, but I don’t do either.

“Here it is!” Brogan reappears with a giant gift bag. It’s at least three feet tall, bright purple, and has so much tissue paper sticking out of it, I’m worried about the number of trees that were killed for this gift alone.

I cough my surprise then try to cover it with an actual cough and clear my throat.

Sabrina eyes me suspiciously as she takes the bag from him. Her arm falls with the weight of it.

“Oh,” she says. “Thank you. You didn’t need to get me anything. I’m the one who is indebted to you.”

“It’s just some housewarming things. It’s from all of us. Open it.” Brogan is grinning like he does at birthday parties and at Christmas when someone opens the present he got them. He’s a generous dude who gets more joy out of giving than receiving things. It’s endearing. Usually.

Sabrina sets the bag on top of the bed and slowly pulls out the tissue paper. She smiles hesitantly as she looks in, then pulls out a candle. Then headphones.

“Those are for drowning out Ariana,” Brogan says, nudging me in the side.

Sabrina laughs lightly then sets both items on the bed next to the tissue paper and keeps going. A bath bomb, fuzzy socks, several gift cards to places nearby, and various kinds of candy.

“I wasn’t sure of your favorite,” Brogan says, nodding his head to the giant pile of candy.

“Gummy bears.”

“Oh. I didn’t get any of those.” My buddy’s brows pinch together with his disappointment.

Sabrina laughs so softly I almost miss the sound, but her shoulders shake with the movement and her lips curve higher. “This is great. Seriously. I wasn’t trying to sound ungrateful. I was just telling you so you’d have another fact about me. What’s your favorite?”

His smile returns. “Varies by my mood, but I’m currently obsessed with those Nerd Gummy Clusters.”

Sabrina digs through her stack to find them and opens the bag. She tries one and then nods. “These are good.”

“Right?” Brogan asks.

She holds the bag out to him. He takes two, then she offers it to me. I shake my head. “No thanks.”

“Archer thinks they’re gross.” Brogan rolls his eyes at me.

“They’re too sweet,” I say and make a face. “And they turn your tongue weird colors.”

Sabrina sticks her tongue out and tries to look at it.

“You’re good,” Brogan says with a laugh.

“Thank you for all of this,” Sabrina says. “I’m really grateful to be here.”

My gut twists. I wish her politeness didn’t make me feel like such an asshole.

“It’s going to be a blast,” Brogan promises.

She nods and then says, “I should finish unpacking. Are you going to be around today?”

“We have practice this afternoon.”

“Right, the season is about to start. When’s your first game?” Sabrina asks as she opens the candle and smells it. She must like it because she sets it on the dresser, leaving the lid off.

“Thursday at home. I can get you a ticket if you want to come. You could sit with London or I could get you another ticket to bring a friend. No pressure. Just an option. You can let me know later in the week if you want to come.” He looks as uncomfortable as he ever does as he finally stops talking and rubs his hands together in front of him. “Anyway, holler if you need anything.”

He backs out of the room. I don’t know why I don’t do the same, but I linger, and Sabrina looks at me.

“He’s excited you’re here.”

“Yeah. Me too. Thanks for the gifts.”

I open my mouth to tell her I didn’t have any part of it, but instead just smile and nod.

I’m about to turn and leave, when she asks, “What about you?”

“Am I excited you’re here?”

“No.” She laughs incredulously. “I think I know the answer to that.”

Yep, I’m definitely an asshole.

“What’s your favorite candy?” she asks.

Oh. “I don’t really like candy.”

She keeps staring at me like my answer is unacceptable.

“If I had to choose, I’d say Butterfinger.”

Brogan got her some of those too, because of course he did. He damn near bought out the candy aisle. She grabs the Butterfinger and tosses it at me. I catch the candy bar in one hand

“Truce?” Her dark brown eyes swirl with uncertainty.

I consider her words, then step forward. The room already smells like her, something light but sweet. I drop the candy back on top of her pile. “We don’t need a truce. He’s happy. That’s all I care about.”

I just hope he stays that way.

After practice, Coach meets with the receivers in one of the conference rooms. He goes over game film with us and talks through our plan for this week’s game.

Graham sits next to me, his leg bouncing nonstop. It creates just enough background noise that I’m leaning away from him to better hear Coach. I miss whatever the last thing he said was and now he’s looking at me expectantly.

“Sorry. Can you repeat the last part?” I ask, hating having to ask but not wanting to miss anything.

“Of course.” Coach nods and explains it all again. This time I don’t miss a single word. In fact, for the next thirty minutes, while he makes sure we’re all solid and ready to go, I hardly blink.

After we meet as a group, we each chat with him individually. I hang back to go last and when it’s finally my turn, he greets me with a smile.

“How are you doing, Holland?” He crosses his arms over his chest in his signature pose, but he doesn’t have his intimidating stare that he reserves for games and practice.

“Great. I’m ready to go.”

“Glad to hear it. We’re going to need all the help we can get making it into the end zone this week. Denver’s defense is tough.”

I nod my agreement.

“You had a tough season last year and I know things are different now with Graham joining the team, but I’m looking to see you step things up and contribute this year.” He doesn’t say it like a threat, but I hear the unspoken message: If you don’t, then you’re no fucking good to the team.

Okay, he’d never say anything that harsh. Sure, he loves to yell at us when we’re screwing up or slacking off, but one-on-one, he’s a levelheaded guy and I know he cares about each of us.

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re still working out the kinks and seeing who meshes the best together, but we’ll get there. Keep fighting and we’ll get you some playing time this year.”

With that rousing pep talk, I head to the locker room. Brogan is sitting on the bench, pulling on his shoes when I walk in.

He must read the defeat on my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say, then sign, I’m just pissed that I’m not starting. I want that spot so bad.

And I hate that it’s Graham in my place.

“It’ll be yours soon enough,” he says it so confidently, but then again, he’s my best friend. Of course, he wants to believe that.

Changing the topic, I ask, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing. I’m going to make dinner at the apartment, sort of a housewarming for Sabrina.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t look so glum.” He cuffs me on one shoulder. “London is going to supervise so I don’t ruin dinner.”

I force a smile. The food wasn’t even a consideration in the change of my emotion.

“I’ll see you at home,” he says, heading out.

After he’s gone, I sigh and get changed, taking my time and delaying going home as long as possible. I hoped that just because she was living with us, I wouldn’t have to interact much with Sabrina. But something tells me that was a pipe dream.

When I get to the apartment, Brogan and London are in the kitchen and Sabrina stands nearby. Her long red hair is pulled up, leaving her neck bare. She’s wearing jean shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Nothing about her appearance suggests she’s trying to look sexy, but fuuuuck.

“Hey,” I say to no one in particular, dragging my gaze away from her.

“Will you take her, so she stops trying to help.” Brogan turns his sister around by the shoulders and walks her out of the kitchen.

Take her? What the hell am I supposed to do with her? About a dozen thoughts, all completely inappropriate, play out in my head.

What the fuck? I cannot be fantasizing about my best friend’s sister. And my new roommate.

“I don’t mind,” she says. “Helping is the least I can do.”

“This dinner is for you. You can’t help make it.” Brogan stops and crosses his arms over his chest. “Hang with Archer. He’s good at doing nothing.”

I scratch the side of my nose with my middle finger, making Brogan’s lips pull into a smile. He turns back to the kitchen, leaving me with a clueless-looking Sabrina.

“Do you want to watch TV?” I ask, since the other ideas I had would likely get my ass kicked. I’m not sure which one is scarier: Brogan or Sabrina. I doubt either would like my ideas. I don’t even like my ideas.

I don’t trust her and I’m still mad about how she left without a word to Brogan.

“Sure,” she says and follows me into the living room. I take a seat on one end of the couch, and she sits all the way at the other end like she doesn’t want to be near me either.

I turn on the TV and then turn to her. “What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care.”

She’s being agreeable. Too agreeable, but whatever. I leave it on ESPN. A few minutes later, I glance over and she’s not even looking at the screen. She’s staring down at her phone. I shouldn’t care. She’s only over here sitting with me because Brogan forced her out of the kitchen, but for some reason I find myself asking, “What’s your favorite TV show?”

She glances up, then thinks for a minute. “I don’t really watch that much TV.”

“Last show you watched?”

“Ariel,” she says, then smiles. Sabrina smiling for real is a dangerous thing. That dimple on the left side of her mouth pops out and her dark brown eyes swirl with warmth. “It’s a Disney show based on The Little Mermaid. Olivia’s daughter Greer picked out most of the things we watched.”

“Olivia is the friend you were crashing with?”

She nods. “Yeah. We work together at Lilac Lounge.”

I file away every little piece of information about Sabrina like I’m preparing for war. Admittedly she seems sincere in wanting to get to know Brogan and she hasn’t tried to take money off him or anything like that, but she disappeared on him once already.

I glance over my shoulder. London and Brogan are laughing and talking in the kitchen, completely oblivious to anything or anyone else right now.

“Why did you leave?” I ask. Maybe if she explains it, I can stop worrying about her doing it again.

She’s quiet, but the response in her body language is immediate. The friendly smile on her face melts away and she tenses.

“Last winter when you and Brogan were just starting to get to know each other, you up and left without so much as a goodbye to him. He played it off like it was fine, but it wasn’t fine.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” she says, artfully dodging my question.

“It isn’t even just that you left,” I say. “You blew into his life out of nowhere and demanded to meet him. For months you were texting him, sending letters, tracking him down so you could be in his life and then when you got what you wanted…poof, you’re gone. He’s been through⁠—”

“I know,” she cuts me off. “I get it. I messed up. I wasn’t thinking about anything at the time.”

“Obviously. Maybe you don’t know how family works, but you don’t just duck out whenever you want. He cares about you. Your actions impact him now.”

Sabrina squeezes her eyes shut and her chest rises and falls with a deep breath. When she opens them, her gaze meets mine. “I know how family works. I may not have had a relationship with Brogan for long, but I care about him too. I’m doing my best to make up for that now. I’m here, aren’t I?”

I work my jaw back and forth. She’s here, but for how long?