Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3)

I just about spit out my water.

If looks could have killed, Sterling would have buried my body right there, not Maxim’s. “Her roommate,” I answered his unspoken question and leaned into my seat. “How is sweet little Savannah?” My chest clenched, threatening to squeeze the life out of my lungs. I’d gone days without saying her name, and the sound of it sliced me open more efficiently than any machete could have.

Fuck, I missed her, and I hated myself for it. It wasn’t like she was running around missing me. According to her Instagram, she was doing perfectly fine.

“Miserable,” London snapped. “How the hell do you think she is with you down here in Charleston?”

“Seems to me she got everything she wanted.” I lifted my eyebrows.

“Wait a second, Caz is your brother?” Sterling’s gaze snapped from Caz Foster to London Foster. “How the hell did I not put that together?”

“Damn, Hollywood!” London exclaimed. “You’ve been in town all of three seconds and already outed me?”

“Didn’t realize you were keeping it a secret,” I cringed.

“Yes, Caspian is my brother, which again,” her gaze swung to Sterling, “is none of your business.”

“But it’s Maxim’s?” Sterling retorted, standing so she had to crane her neck up to see him. The guy pretty much dwarfed Savannah’s best friend.

“Seriously?” She lifted her chin. “The next time you want to act all pissy that I show up with Maxim, remind yourself that you could have asked first.”

A muscle ticked in Sterling’s jaw. “Fine. I will.”

“Fine.” Her gaze snapped back to mine. “As for you, Hendrix. While you’re sitting here in a bar, looking like…” she gestured at my face. “…you, Savannah is a wreck.”

I scoffed. “You don’t have to cover for her anymore, London. We’re not in Raleigh.”

“I’m not!”

“Yeah, okay.” I gave her a thumbs up and wished the water in front of me was something a hell of a lot stronger. “She walked away without a look. A call. A text. So, go ahead and tell me again just how fucking torn up she is. She got every single thing she wanted, and I got traded.”

She winced. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean she’s not hurting.”

“Right. Whatever you need to tell yourself. We both know how it really happened, don’t we?” I cocked my head to the side.

Her eyes narrowed. “You could at least act like you care. You’re not heartbroken, are you? You’re just pissed that she ended it first.”

“Act like I care?” I growled. “I loved her, London. Loved her, and she didn’t give a shit, so why the fuck should I? She threw me away like that pair of broken boots. I’m done caring.”

Her gaze dropped to the open collar of my button-down shirt, and she snorted. “You still care.”

“Like hell,” I challenged. The last thing I needed was London running back to Savannah and telling her how much of a pussy I was being about her dumping me on my ass. Fuck that.

“Is that why you’re still wearing that necklace?” She arched a delicate, dark brow. “Because you don’t care?” With that, she turned around and walked back to the bar, shaking her head the whole time. Within a minute or two, the trio left.

I gripped my bottle to keep my hands from reaching for the little golden chain. I’d packed my house, put it on the market, signed a new contract, and moved to Charleston, but I hadn’t brought myself to take off the last piece of evidence that Savannah had feelings for me at one point. Maybe they weren’t strong enough to choose me over her father, but they had to have been significant enough to give me the necklace.

But London was right. It was also evidence of my inability to let go.

“Damn, you guys have some drama up north,” Sterling said with raised brows.

“Says the guy who wants to nail his brother’s maybe-girlfriend who also happens to be his teammate’s sister.” Briggs laughed.

“In my defense, I didn’t know she was my teammate’s sister,” Sterling responded.

“Is that going to stop you?” I asked, wondering where the line was for everyone else when I’d crossed it months ago.

“Hell no.” Sterling stared at the door like London would walk back through at any minute. “The girl you’re torn up over—your coach’s daughter, right?”

“In my defense,” I took his words. “My ex-coach.”

“Right. Did that stop you?”

I sighed and ripped my hands over my hair. “It should have.”

18

Savannah

The highlights of today's games lit up my father's flatscreen, the smell of his chili filtering in through the kitchen. I almost didn't come today, but it was tradition for me to show up on the days that the Raptors had an off-week. I’d always watched the games that were aired with my dad.

And maybe it was because I was incredibly lonely that I'd set aside my rage to join him when he’d reached out and asked if I was coming. Maybe it was because I missed my best friend who was in Charleston. Maybe it was because I missed Hendrix as he now actively played for Charleston.