Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Killion
How to Avoid Losing Everything
I’ve always loved the house where we grew up in upstate New York. We weren’t there full time until Kade and I started high school, but that was our home base. The sprawling property has this timeless charm, with rolling green hills, towering oak trees, and all the space you won’t find in the city. Eighty acres with everything you need to help your children become the athletes they could be.
I barely make it to the front door before it swings open, and Scottie, my younger sister, barrels out like a whirlwind, her long hair streaming behind her. “Look who decided to grace us with his presence—the prodigal son returns,” she teases, throwing her arms around me.
“Prodigal?” I smirk, hugging her back. “Pretty sure that’s your title. When was the last time you were in Manhattan?”
She pulls back, narrowing her gray eyes at me with mock indignation. “I’ve been busy with my practice, unlike some people. And for the record, I call our dads more than once a month—or when I have problems. What’s your excuse, oh absent one?”
Before I can retort, Greyson, our youngest brother, appears in the doorway, grinning like he’s up to no good. “I thought it was going to be an asshole-free weekend. Your twin is inside if you’re here to see him.”
“Good to see you too,” I reply dryly as he walks away.
I glance at Scottie, who shrugs. “I think he broke up with his boyfriend or . . . who knows?” She rolls her eyes. “He’s always moody when he comes to visit our fathers. I’m sure it’s about going professional. It’s a sensitive subject for him. ”
“That it is,” I agree, nodding toward the sprawling estate. “So, why are you here?”
Unless it’s family dinner night—which has become more sporadic lately with everyone busy training, playing games, and pretending to have a life—we don’t get together that often. When we do, it’s usually for something pressing. Like today, for example. I’m here to talk to my fathers about my future and maybe get some wisdom. After all, they managed to make their relationship work while playing for two different teams in two different cities. Sure, it got easier when Dad retired, but they made it work.
Would I have loved to bring Camille with me so Dad could finally meet her in person? Absolutely. But let’s be real: Cam isn’t anywhere near ready for that. I still can’t believe I got as lucky as I did last night. She let me in—not completely, of course—but enough to touch her. Enough to remind her of us, of what we were.
We were more than sex and lust, though. We were friends. We were each other’s person in such a short time.
She had become my everything.
“Hey, are you still here?” Scottie asks, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Umm, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted,” I mumble, shaking off my thoughts. “You were saying?”
“Never mind,” she says, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Let me guess—you’re here to talk about your next-door neighbor.”
“Not you too,” I groan, glaring at her.
“Oh, me too,” she mocks, mimicking my voice. “Do I get to meet her this time, or did you already fuck the whole thing up?”
“Language, Ella,” I say mockingly, slipping into the tone our fathers used to use when she was younger and got caught swearing.
She sticks her tongue out at me, spinning on her heel to walk away. “Oh, don’t be mad, Scottie. I was just kidding,” I call after her, smirking.
“Whatever. I hope she doesn’t take you back,” she shoots over her shoulder, but there’s a playful lilt to her voice.
“Wait a second,” I say, trying to reel her back. “You know, she might need an investor for her business.”
That stops her. She turns, her curiosity piqued. “Go on . . .”
I pull out my phone, scrolling through Camille’s Instagram feed. I show Scottie the videos of her coaching and explain what I know so far.
“Why did she agree to move just for this?” Scottie asks, shaking her head. “There are plenty of people who’d jump at the chance to back her without . . .” She trails off, eyes glued to the screen. “Oh, she had a workshop today. Or at least I think that’s what this is.”
She scrolls through the posts, studying them like she’s preparing for a test. “You know, you could help her,” she says after a beat.
“I could,” I admit, leaning back against the counter. “But she doesn’t want me to.”
Scottie taps her chin, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I like what she’s doing. I could invest if you let me talk to her.”
“Since when do you need permission to do anything?” I ask, raising a brow.
She rolls her eyes but points a finger at me like I’m a particularly dense student. “You need to understand that this could get awkward if she doesn’t take you back. I can’t just pull out of a partnership because my brother is a dumbass.”
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I deadpan.
“You’re welcome,” she chirps, handing my phone back. “But seriously, if you’re not going to help her, I will. Not because of you, but because I think what she’s doing is important.”
I stare at her for a moment, the wheels in my head turning. “You know, you’re not wrong. But if she agrees to let you invest, you better warn her that you’ll be the most annoying business partner on the planet.”
Scottie grins, giving me a wink. “Oh, I don’t need to warn her. She’s already dealing with you, isn’t she?”
The next few hours are a blur of laughter, sibling banter, and general Crawford family fun. This time there’s no games, which Val is thankful for because she always ends up too tired for our mayhem. Though Greyson and I end up locked in a heated pool game while Scottie acts as the self-proclaimed referee, calling out every minor infraction with dramatic flair. Kaden, my twin, watches from the couch with a drink in hand and Val next to him reading a book she just bought before heading here. He of course throws in the occasional sarcastic comment to keep things lively.
By the time Greyson finally admits defeat—after much whining and an attempt to distract me with a wildly inaccurate story about his college life—I’m feeling lighter than I have in weeks. This is what I needed. Family. Dad and I talk about my relationship, or the lack of it. He says that before I start planning on how we’re going to manage a long-distance relationship, I have to get back the girl. Then, we’ll figure it out. The most important thing is communication, which we didn’t have the first time.
Later, after dinner, Kaden and I find ourselves on the back patio, the cool night air wrapping around us. The stars are out in full force, and the distant hum of crickets fills the silence. He sips his whiskey, eyeing me with that knowing look only a twin can give.
“So,” he starts, leaning back in his chair, “you gonna tell me what’s been eating at you, or do I have to guess? ”
I sigh, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “It’s Camille.”
“Of course it is,” he says with a smirk. “What’d you do this time?”
“I didn’t—” I stop myself, shaking my head. “Okay, I did. I got carried away. I thought . . . I thought if I could remind her how good we are together, I could skip the groveling part. And obviously, I need to go back to the groveling.”
“Obviously.” Kaden snorts. “No shit it didn’t work. You shouldn’t be taking shortcuts, Kill.”
“I know, but I also think she needed it,” I state, running a hand through my hair. “But now . . . it’s hard, man. I screwed up, and now every time I try to fix it, I feel like I’m digging the hole deeper.”
Kaden studies me for a moment, his expression softer than usual. “You’re not going to fix this with words, you know. Camille’s smart, and she’s been through a lot. She’s going to need more than an apology.”
“I know that too,” I say, my frustration mounting. “But what does that even look like? How do I prove to her that I’m serious?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You start by showing up. Be consistent. Let her see that you’re not just here for the easy parts.”
I let out a short laugh. “That’s asking a lot.”
“Yeah, well, groveling isn’t supposed to be easy,” he points out. “You need to show her that you’re willing to put in the work for the long haul. It’s not only about flowers, but big gestures. Remind her why she fell in love with you for the first time . . . because you made her feel like she was the only person in the entire world. Listen to her. Show her that you’re not just saying the right things—you’re doing them.”
I sit back, staring out at the dark expanse of the property. “I just don’t want to screw it up again.”
Kaden claps a hand on my shoulder. “You won’t, as long as you stop trying to skip the hard parts. She’s worth it, right?”
“She’s everything,” I admit quietly.
“Then you’ve got your answer,” he says, standing and stretching. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on Val. I swear every time we’re here she just wants to be in the big ass bathtub for hours.”
“Have fun,” I smirk, knowing what they might be doing in the bathtub.
He doesn’t even acknowledge me though. And I let it be. Kaden’s right. If I want Camille back, I have to stop cutting corners. It’s time to show her that I’m all in—for real this time.