Winning Brynn (Seattle Strikers)

77. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Brynn

Salem sleeps soundly in the hospital crib, despite the ceaseless sound of metal wheels dragging across cracked linoleum and the unforgiving glare of the ceiling lights. I guess she needs the rest. My poor girl has had one hell of a day. The sky outside has long turned black, the stars hidden from billowing storm clouds that leak rain over the city.

It must be approaching midnight, yet neither Leo nor I are able to sleep.

Leo sits in the chair closest to the window, his eyes trained on his daughter, never wavering, even when a nurse comes over to offer him a coffee and another approaches to clumsily ask for an autograph. It doesn’t seem to occur to him that he’s too big for the seat. It must be wildly uncomfortable, but he hasn’t complained once.

I get it.

There’s too much hanging over our heads to rest anyway. “You doing okay?” I ask him finally after a long period of silence.

He sits forward and forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Ah.” I nod knowingly. “Me too.”

Dragging a hand down his face, he sighs a sound of heartache and defeat. “I don’t know what to feel right now. It’s like my brain is full of relief, but my body is still in fight-or-flight. The panic hasn’t left my system yet, even though I can see that she’s here, and she’s okay.”

“I get it,” I say from my seat on the other side of Salem’s crib. I’m closest to her, but Leo has a clearer view of her in the back corner, diagonally across from me. “It’s been hours now, and I can still feel the adrenaline in my veins, like it’s electrocuting me.”

“I’m also angry,” he admits on a whisper. “So incredibly angry, and then I get angrier because I shouldn’t be feeling angry at all right now. Not while my daughter is lying in a damn hospital bed.”

My heart thumps against my ribs. “Angry at me?”

He should be angry with me. I left his daughter alone with Isabella, knowing he wouldn’t be comfortable with it. It doesn’t matter that it was only for a few minutes or that Issy had been spending time with Salem for weeks. I shouldn’t have left that room.

At the very least, I should have told Issy that the fruit needed slicing first. I shouldn’t have expected her to just know. There are so many things I should have done differently that would’ve stopped us ending up here.

No matter what Leo says, I’m to blame for what happened today.

But he just looks at me softly, with more love than I deserve right now. “No, baby, not at you. Never at you.”

“Isabella?” I ask, my stomach sinking.

He nods. “She’s abandoned Salem again.”

“Yeah.” That’s all I can manage, because what else is there to say?

He’s right.

Despite the jealousy I felt toward her, I tried my best to support Issy in building a relationship with her daughter. I was patient and empathetic, even when I didn’t understand her reason for doing things. I put aside every doubt I had, every worry, and was prepared to stand aside if it meant Salem would get the complete family unit she deserves. I did it all out of the hope that she was truly committed to her daughter.

So, I understand why Leo is angry, especially since he didn’t want to allow Issy back into their lives in the first place. He only conceded because I encouraged him to. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over the guilt I feel about that, now that it’s backfired.

But beyond all that, there’s a part of me that feels deeply sad for my friend.

Despite everything, I still don’t think she’s a bad person. She’s just a woman who’s made some bad decisions and is living with the consequences of them. One who wanted to make them right, but in trying, only made everything worse.

“What are we gonna do, Brynn?”

“About Issy?”

“About her, about your brother, about me being inevitably dropped from the Strikers.”

I roll my eyes with affection. “No one’s going to drop you from the team, Leo.”

He snorts. “They should.”

“You’re still the best striker in the league right now. A couple of shitty games doesn’t stop that being true.” I sigh. “As for my brother, I guess we’ve finally gotta tell him, huh?”

He chokes a sad laugh. “Yeah, we do.”

Unfolding myself out of the chair, I pad my way over to him and sit myself in his lap. His arms come around me instantly, enveloping me in the scent of wood and earth and him . I run my nails over the back of his head, stroking at the place where his hair meets his neck. “We’ll do it together.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “I know you’re scared of losing him, and I imagine he’ll completely overreact at first, but I genuinely believe he’ll come around.” He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I cup his cheek to hold him there. “I love you,” I tell him with my eyes closed. “And I’m not prepared to give you up, so if he loves me like he says he does, he’ll learn to accept it.”

“I love you too.” His eyes raise to look at me. “I haven’t thanked you yet for what you did.”

“You don’t need to.”

“No, I do.” He shakes his head. “My daughter is still breathing because of you.”

“It wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t left the room.” My voice trembles, but I need to say it. I need to acknowledge my part in what happened, take accountability for my failings. “I was distracted. I could have called Ivy back later. I didn’t have to take the call then, but I did, and I left. I knew you still weren’t comfortable with Issy being around Salem, even supervised, but I left anyway. So, please don’t thank me. I should be saying sorry. I am sorry. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Baby, breathe,” he says gently.

I hadn’t realized I was talking so fast, or breathing so little, until he rests his hand over my chest and taps in a slow rhythm until my breaths begin to regulate again.

“It’s okay.” His other hand comes up to rest against my face, so big and warm and safe that I can’t help but lean into it. “It happened, and we can’t help that. But you saved her. You were so brave to do that. I don’t know if I would have been able to do the same in that situation. I will never stop saying thank you, because you are the reason I still have my daughter.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He draws our faces together, so close that our breaths whisper across each other’s lips. “Just kiss me.”

I do.

Not just because he told me to, but because it’s impossible to be this close to him and not kiss him.

My lips part against his, welcoming his tongue into my mouth in a slow dance of twists and tangles. It isn’t a lust-fueled kiss, but a love-fueled one. It’s appreciation, forgiveness, and acceptance. It’s everything we both need in this moment just to keep us grounded to the earth. To not let our racing thoughts or the panic of this evening pull us apart, but to help it bring us together.

Because that’s where we thrive. It’s where we’re safe, where we belong. Together. Sharing silk-soft kisses with our arms wrapped around each other like we’re scared of ever letting go.

I’m so lost to it that I don’t hear the heavy, swaggering steps down the corridor or even the click of the door opening. I’m only alerted to someone’s presence when Leo rips his mouth away from mine and turns to stare wide-eyed at the person in the doorway.

“What the fuck is this?”

My brother glares down at us with the force of a natural disaster. He’s holding a teddy bear in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, both crashing to the floor in an explosion of splintering glass and amber liquid.

Salem bolts awake with a scream. Leo moves to stand, but I’m still on his lap and end up falling to the floor. He opens his mouth to apologize—to me or Alex, I can’t tell—and I slip on the spilled beer as I’m trying to get up, smacking my face against the cold linoleum.

“Alex,” Leo stammers, but my brother is already gone.