The Endgame Is You (Rixon Raiders 4)

Our new place was perfect. It was an industrial warehouse that had been converted into huge open plan apartments. Ours was lucky enough to have a mezzanine that was perfect for Hailee’s studio, without her feeling locked away in a different part of the apartment.

Her body swayed gently to the music as she brushed long sweeping arcs over the splodges of color already decorating the canvas. Almost four years later, and I still didn’t really understand most of her art. But I loved watching her. Her work attire didn’t hurt the eyes either.

She currently stood in an oversized white shirt that grazed her thighs. Hailee had pulled her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and from the way the shirt was hanging off one shoulder, I knew she’d probably left some buttons open.

Taking a long pull on my beer, I placed it on the sideboard and quietly moved closer. She was too lost in her art to notice me. Or, at least, I was thought she was, until she said, “How long were you watching me?”

“Busted.” I smiled, brushing the stray hairs off her neck and leaning in to press a kiss there.

A shudder rolled through her, and Hailee glanced back at me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. She knew. Hailee always knew when something was wrong, but I tried my best to make sure she didn’t know just how much I was struggling. I didn’t want to be a burden, not on her. Not when she’d worked so hard to get here. Studying at STAMPS art and design school had always been her dream, and I’d be damned if I did anything to ruin that.

Besides, it was only eight more months.

“Practice was tough.”

Her brows furrowed. “Let me finish up here and we can—”

“Is it an important piece?” I flicked my gaze to the canvas.

“Just something for me.”

Thank fuck.

I pulled the brush from her fingers and threw it down on

the tray.

“Cameron, what are you—”

My fingers slid to her neck, my thumbs smoothing over her soft skin. Hailee’s breath caught. “That bad, huh?” Her eyes darkened.

“It was pretty bad.” I’d fumbled the ball, barely caught Dom’s passes, and defense had taken me down seven out of ten plays.

It was a fucking shit show.

“I’m sorry.” She fisted my hoodie, anchoring us together. “What do you need?”

“You,” I breathed against her lips. “I only need you.”

Hailee

I felt Cameron’s torment as he kissed me. I knew he was worried about Xander; it had gotten worse every year that we were away from Rixon. He constantly reassured me he was okay, that he wanted to graduate from Michigan before we decided what to do after, but it was taking its toll.

His tongue slipped past my lips, curling around mine. Cameron kissed the way he played ball, sure and steady and in complete control. And it wasn’t long before our hands were searching for skin, desperate to touch and explore.

“This needs to go,” he said between kisses, fingering the buttons of my work shirt.

“Here, let me.” I broke away, helping him undo the buttons, baring myself to him.

More often than not, I painted in just a shirt. I liked the freedom and it saved on laundry.

Cam dipped his head, kissing the curve of my breasts as he backed me against the wall.

“We could take this downstairs,” I suggested. It was a mess up here.

“No,” he breathed. “I need you, Hailee.” His fingers went to his sweats, pushing them down his hips right along with his boxers. His hoodie and t-shirt went next until he was standing in front of me stark naked.