It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 3

MARK

Three Months Later

“It’s an emergency. I’m doing it, and don’t even try to talk me out of it!”

I push through the crowd, keeping my head low to avoid being stopped for pictures and autographs.

I glance at the signs above, searching for the arrow that will point me in the direction of the rental lot. I need this to be quick. I’ve waited long enough, letting fear get in the way, and time is running out. This is my last chance, and I don’t have a second to think twice.

I hear a long exhale on the other end of the line as I scan the board for my name. I have no doubt my older brother is running a hand over his face. I turn to see a phone raised in my direction and step away quickly, hoping I dodged it.

I walk quickly through the lot, scanning the cars.

“This is a terrible idea,” Shane grumbles, but I don’t have time for his grouchy, sour attitude. This is my life.

I find my car with the keys in the ignition and toss my duffle bag in the back, wasting no time climbing in. I switch my phone to the speaker.

“You told the GM and your coach this is an emergency? Have you really thought this through? You’re walking in there blind. You have no idea what you’ll face.”

Sean, my younger, more sensible brother’s calm questioning goes in one ear and out the other. I know exactly what I’m doing. I don’t know if I’m walking in completely blind, but I can’t say I know what to expect either.

These guys care. They’re looking out for me, just like they always have. Even though we aren’t brothers in the traditional sense, they have my back and always will.

The three of us were tossed together in a group home when I was eight, and we’ve been each other’s family ever since. Some bonds are thicker than blood ever could be.

I have no idea what the outcome of this will be. I know what I need it to be, but I’m very well versed in things not turning out how I want them to. This is my last shot at getting the one thing I’ve always needed.

“This is a life emergency!” The urgency in my bones needs to calm the hell down. I can’t walk in there acting like a lunatic, but my panicking ass needs this to work. “I know where I’m going, and I know what I need. Other than that, I’ll be calling plays on the fly.”

See calm. I can be calm . I do it every day on the field. Shit! This has to work.

There’s silence on the other end of the line until Shane, the big, negative one, adds his two cents, which I know I’ll likely ignore.

“This might be the dumbest idea you’ve ever had. What happens when this blows up in your face?”

Idea? Ha. I wish this were my idea. My play. I’m taking advantage of the last opportunity I might ever have, and there isn’t a thing that will stop me.

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, Shane.” I bite back.

“Hey, I’m watching out for you. You’re supposed to be heading to Vegas. That is what you need to be doing, not chasing a fantasy.”

My grip tightens on the steering wheel as the heat of irritation rushes through my body. I know when I need to be in Vegas. I’m supposed to be in a team meeting first thing in the morning, preparing for the game and then practice. I’m supposed to be on the plane with the rest of my guys in two days, aiming to get us one step closer to the playoffs.

I crack the window. “This isn’t a fantasy. This is my life, and I’ve been given a chance.”

I proceed through the security gate, hoping for Sean’s gentle confidence before I lose my last ounce of patience that’s dangling off a cliff by one finger .

“Just take a second to think about what you’re doing and what happens . . . afterward,” his calm voice advises. “You need to be prepared for this not to go the way you want. Don’t forget, she’s the one who left you high and dry. It’s been a long time, Mark, and a lot has changed.”

He might as well have socked me right between the pecs. Right where it hurts all the damn time. Never changing. Pain that I’ve just gotten used to. But it’s always there, lingering. Wondering. Hoping. Living and breathing, begging for another chance.

Underneath, way deep inside, there’s this need to know that I wasn’t wrong. That somehow, this was all some big misunderstanding.

The memory of her just . . . disappearing still burns like hell, but I’ll never believe it was because she didn’t love me. I can’t. I just can’t.

Sean’s right. Everything has changed, but I haven’t, and I know exactly what I want and need. I’ve always known, but there’s a real possibility I’ve never been what she’s needed. Maybe even then.

I swallow the uncomfortable tightness in my throat.

What I don’t need is any more of their negativity infiltrating my desperate, spontaneous, maybe totally and completely insane plans. But it’s all I’ve got, and I’ve never been one to play it safe.

“Mark,” Shane’s put on his coaching pants now, and that tone makes me want to hang up on his ass.

I don’t need a coach. I need my brother, who understands we might only get one chance at true, undying love if we’re lucky. I had mine all those years ago, and now, unexpectedly, I’ve been given an opening, and I’m sure as hell taking it.

“We all know if she’s seen social media, your confession, and long-withstanding pining will seem a bit hard to believe,” Shane says.

I laugh. If he were sitting next to me, I’d cackle in his big, grumpy mug. “Thanks for keeping tabs, but we all know that’s complete bullshit.”

“You think she’ll see it that way?” Sean asks carefully.

It’s a good thing I love these guys as if they were my flesh and blood because if they were anyone else, I might literally reach through the phone, and fists would be flying.

The thought that she might not believe me has me rolling down the window, needing the cool air to prevent me from thrusting the door open and upchucking my dinner. I know what the world thinks I am, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. I like people. I like women, but there’s only ever been one woman who’s ever had my heart. The rest have been my best attempts at distraction that never worked.

I take a calming breath, knowing I’ll likely have to explain it all at some point, but first, I have to know if she even gives a shit. From what I understand, there’s at least a shred of hope she does.

“Yes, I made some really stupid decisions. We all have, but it’s been years. Nothing has happened outside of those posed photos. She’ll see that.”

At least, I hope she will. I’m not perfect, and I’ve made mistakes like everyone does, but there’s a huge difference between being seen as a playboy and actually being one.

I hear Sean exhale this time, and I know it’s him because it’s not filled with exaggerated condescension. “Good luck, bro. I’m rooting for you.”

Shane grunts, something I can’t make out.

I need a few minutes to myself. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you guys later.”

“Whatever happens, make sure you’re on you’re A-game in Vegas. I want to beat your ass in the playoffs,” Sean jokes, lightening the doom they seem to think I’m walking into, but my mind is only on the task at hand. I play to win, and I’m playing for everything.

“Mark,” Shane barks in his overly protective, coach tone. “She’s getting married. If you walk in there, you have to be good walking out alone.” That isn’t even a possibility I can consider at the moment. “I want a phone call when this is done. No going into hiding while you have one of your monstrous diva meltdowns. You call us.”

My head falls back, and I push air out between my lips, waiting for the damn light to turn green. “Fine. Don’t worry. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

My brothers groan in unison, and I have no doubt both are rubbing their temples. I can’t help but grin, and it feels good. They know I’m not one to sit on the sidelines. I’ve always played like I might never again. It’s risky sometimes, but it’s gotten me to the top. Even if I was a play-it-safe kind of guy, this is not the time to do it.

“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that,” Sean mumbles.

“This is different, boys. I’m finally doing what I should have done a long time ago. No matter how it turns out, I have to know. I just hate it’s taken me this long, and it’s under these circumstances, but this is it. My last shot. You bet your asses I’m taking it.”

_____ _

The old, red brick A-frame building stands just as it did eight years ago. The garage doors still list the same services in the same old white paint. The doors are shut and locked up tight, but the lights blaze from within.

For eight years, there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about this place or the woman I have no doubt is inside working late into the night to rid herself of . . . something. I’m here, and I want to know what that something is. I have a ridiculous desire for that something to be me.

I’ve loved this woman more than half my life, and that love is more alive today than it was eight years ago when she kissed me goodbye and told me she’d see me soon. Week after week came and went, but she never did. She changed her number, dropped out of my life, and went on as if we never happened at all.

All this time, I’ve been watching like a full-time, non-threatening stalker. I’ve monitored her extremely minimal social media activity, wanting her to be happy. I know better than anyone you can’t believe everything you see on a screen, but my Lex is missing. I know the woman I love still has to be inside the made-up version I saw in the few posts over recent years. No one can tell me my Lex isn’t still in there.

Until she walks down the aisle and promises the rest of her life to that schmuck, I won’t accept we aren’t meant to be together. Not until she looks me in the eye and tells me she doesn’t love me anymore.

Maybe I’ve completely lost it, and coming here is the most preposterous thing I’ve ever done, which would be saying a lot since I’ve done some really stupid shit. But it’s been years, and I haven’t been able to let her go. I’m not about to now. At least not without her telling me she wants me to and actually believing her.

I climb out of my rental car, taking a slow, deep breath to calm my racing heart. This is it, the defining moment for the rest of my life. I’m either going to walk away, finally having to face the devastation and utter heartbreak I’ve drowned out with hope, or convince her that what we were is everything we can still be.

Outside the door, I hear metal clang to the floor and a string of gentle curses that causes one side of my mouth to tip up. My nerves still stand at attention, but they stop shouting upon hearing the voice of the one that used to lay in the grass and tell me all I could be.

I inhale deeply, my stomach crawling into my throat as I prepare to put it all on the line. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more nervous in my life than I am at this very moment.

I need to shore myself up and walk in with my game face on. I need her to hear and believe every word that comes out of my mouth. If the Lex I knew is on the other side of this door, I have no doubt she won’t be doing much of the talking.

My pulse pounds in my ears as I man up and slowly pull the door open. I quietly step inside to the smell of grease and car fluids. Fortunately, the door is unlocked, but I hate that I can walk in without any hindrance. If nothing else comes from this, I’ll make sure she locks the door.

Country music plays in the background, and Lex stands across the space on a stool, bent over the hood of an old Chevy Silverado. She’s in worn jeans, a white T-shirt, and steel-toed boots, all resembling the girl I used to know. Her long blonde hair falls around her, held back by a bandana as she tugs on a wrench, trying to force a bolt loose.

The roar of my heart softens at the sight of her. I swallow and shove my hands in my pockets, steadying myself for a battle I have no choice but to win.

“Somehow, I knew you’d be here.”

As if in slow-motion, I watch her body startle, her hand slipping on the wrench, and then she quickly settles as if she recognizes my voice. She doesn’t turn around, but her grip loosens on the tool as she straightens.

“It’s been eight years and 134 days, and there hasn’t been a single one that I haven’t thought about you.”

She stands perfectly still, her head hanging. After what feels like an eternity, she slowly turns, her boots hitting the floor as she steps down from her stool to face me. Her pale blue eyes hit mine with the force of a freight train, and it stuns my cardiovascular system, stalling it. All my instincts flare with the need to go to her, but I stay put. I can’t. Not yet.

My gut squeezes tight again as she takes me in. Her eyes trace over me, and I’d give my entire fortune to know what she’s thinking. I stare back, the ache in my chest as raw and real as ever .

This version of her, in old clothes and covered in grease and oil, is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I want to smile, but my nerves prevent it. It takes everything in me not to wrap her up and beg her to come back to me. To tell me that I’m not completely insane.

Her head falls forward as if to inspect her tired and worn boots. One of her hands runs down her shirt.

It’s only a moment before those empty blue eyes drag back up to meet mine.

“Why are you here?” Her voice is so gentle, it’s painful.

I have to be very careful. My next words need to be articulate and precise. “Because I couldn’t go one more day without seeing you and risking the chance of losing you forever.”

Her brows twitch but quickly relax as her eyes roam over my face.

Her eyes draw closed, and she presses them together tight. I watch her chest rise and fall. My body tenses with the realization that I can’t read her like I used to. A pit slowly forms in the bottom of my stomach, and I need to slide a cover over it before I fall in.

I take one step closer, and she stiffens, so I stop. I want to beg to know what happened. To understand. To know if I really had it all wrong. If I was a complete fool.

But I can’t. The pain would pull me so far under I might not find my way out.

“I know you’re getting married in a couple of days. Are you happy?”

The lonely sound of a sad country song fills the silence, and I break out in a cold sweat, waiting for her answer.

Please say no. I want to know what we can be again.

She turns and walks to the workbench, pulling a shop rag to wipe off her hands.

“How do you know that?” Her question is soft but curious. When I don’t respond, she shakes her head. “I can’t do this.”

Shit. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. Panic starts to kick in, and I need to calm the hell down. It’s like I’m in the fourth quarter with fifty seconds left, and I’m down by eight. I need a touchdown and a two-point conversion, and I only have seconds. I have to hit my mark, and it has to count.

Screw it. I’m here for a reason. This is my chance .

I stride across the room, not hesitating, and reach for her. I gently grab her elbow and turn her toward me. I force myself to release it even though everything in me wants to pull her close, hold on tight, and never let go.

Her eyes stay on the floor as if she’s afraid to look at me. I focus.

“I’m not leaving here until you tell me you’re happy. You convince me of that, and I’ll wish you well and never bother you again.” She doesn’t move. “Lex . . . ”

Her head snaps up, her eyes wild. “Don’t call me that.”

Part of me wants to grin at hitting a nerve, but I resist. I search her eyes. Having her this close but yet so far away is pure torture. My fingertips tingle with the need to touch her again.

I’ve longed for this moment, but the short distance between us feels like a canyon, and I loathe every millimeter of it.

“Please tell me,” I beg. “I have to know. I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering.”

Her eyes remain on the floor. Her hand pushes the loose hair out of her face, but it falls right back. “There’s nothing left for you here.”

It comes out smooth and cool, a sledgehammer, straight to my gut. I suck in air.

Shit. No. No. No. This can’t be happening . He said this wouldn’t be easy.

I force myself taller, remembering how to fight. “If I believed that, I wouldn’t be here. I think exactly everything I need is right here.”

I take a huge risk and wrap my hands gently around her arms, easing her closer. I use one finger to tip her chin up, forcing her to look at me.

Her eyes finally meet mine. “I’ve missed you every single day.”

She pushes me away, taking a step back, her chin returning to her chest. “We didn’t fit then, and we don’t fit now. We’re different people, and we don’t belong together.”

“Liar,” I say, grabbing her attention. Her wide eyes flick between mine. “There have never been two people who belong together more than you and me. I don’t know who or what made you believe differently, but it’s bullshit. No one knows you better than I do. I don’t care how many years have passed. I still know exactly who you are.”

I take a desperate step closer, needing to close a bit of the space between us. “I knew you’d be here tonight. I knew it. I know those boots on your feet are the same brand, maybe even the exact same pair you had on when I kissed you the very last time, and I know they’re a size seven and a half. I know you listen to this horrible, depressing country music because it drives your hard-ass grandfather crazy, and somewhere along the way, you learned to like it.”

I take another step closer, her body so close to mine, and she watches my evey move. I take one of her hands, holding it. At first, it’s stiff, but it quickly goes limp as I surround hers in mine. I want to take it and pull her away with me, but I can’t.

I breathe her in. Her scent, one I could never forget, is exactly the same. I push a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and she watches every move. “I know anything besides having your hair down and loose gives you a headache.”

I lift her hand. My thumb traces a path across her palm. “One of my favorite things was seeing the grease and dirt left behind from all your hard work because it makes you so damn happy.”

“I’m not that girl anymore. She’s gone.” There’s a slight quiver in her voice I don’t miss.

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her body flush with mine. Her quiet, stubborn ass only releases the tiniest gasp, but everything in me tells me she feels it, too.

I stare into her eyes, trying to ignore the fear filling every pore throughout my entire body. “I don’t believe that. I will never believe that.”

She relaxes against me, her arms between us, and I know. I know somewhere in there she’s here with me.

I lean just a little, my mouth close to her ear. “I don’t care what’s happened or how long it’s been, but I beg you not to go through with this wedding unless it’s really and truly everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her hands slide down my biceps and rest on my forearms. I’ve never hated a shirt to this extreme in my life.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper.

Her hands drop to her sides. “It’s time for you to go now.”

My heart hits the stained concrete floor. I don’t release her. I can’t. “Don’t do this, please. I don’t know what happened, but I know I wasn’t wrong about what we had. It’s once in a lifetime, Lex.”

I don’t even care how pathetic I sound. I can’t have been wrong .

“Stop.” She shoves me away this time and retreats, putting space between us. “You need to go.” Her chest moves in and out quickly.

Her dim eyes find mine, and pain spears through my chest, wanting to know where the girl I love has gone, but I know pushing her won’t do any good.

I swallow, trying to pull forth my last shred of dignity and ounce of hope—the very last bit.

I take a step toward the workbench. Each inch of distance is like peeling a Band-Aid off a festering wound. “I’ll go, but I’m never giving up. You and me, it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Even as I say it, the doom of this being the end begins to steamroll my fear.

I pull an invoice sheet from the counter and a pen. “Here is my phone number. After tonight, I have to be in Vegas for a game.” I set the pen on the paper, turning back to her. “I will do anything you ask me to, but I won’t give up. Not until you tell me straight up that you never loved me.”

I give her a chance, searching her eyes long and hard. I suck my stomach in tight and wait for those words to kill what might be the only good left in me.

She only wraps her arms around herself, with what I think might be tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. I want to punch something.

“Please go.”

Two simple words that strike like a thousand-pound gavel.

I take her in a few moments longer, trying to understand everything I don’t. Her sad eyes cause my throat to constrict, and the pain is so great I can’t bear it.

I walk to the door, gathering myself and clearing my throat. “Don’t walk down that aisle unless you’re certain it’s the rest of your life because I will never believe it’s not supposed to be us. You and me. Forever.”

I pull the door open, and a rush of cold air hits me. I stand in the doorway, needing to look at her one more time. My hand finds the spot on my ribs that’s been permanently branded and will burn for eternity.

“You can deny it, but it’s always been us, Lex.” She hasn’t moved an inch, and I try to memorize every detail of her. “Lock this door. If you work here at night, it needs to be locked.”

One hand moves up to tug at one of her earrings. It’s a nervous habit, and it’s just enough to know I’ve gotten under her tough-as-nails skin .

“I’ve missed you, and I have this strange feeling you’ve missed me, too.” I drop my gaze to the floor, knowing I’ve given it my all. “This life is hard enough. We both need you to use that number.”

I step out the door, letting it clang shut. I wait, making sure she locks it before I carry myself back to my rental car, praying she’ll call. It’s been eight years, but she’s getting married in two days. She has to use that number.