"I'M GOING TO fucking kill him," August grunted for the millionth time. He'd been stewing and muttering threats of violence for the better part of an hour. "I'm going to kill them. All of them."

I sighed. Because while I was mad, I wasn't the kind of mad that he was. I felt sort of...resigned to my fate.

A part of me had known this would be the outcome–that by leaving the Warriors organization, I was giving up my life as a sports reporter. I'd known there would be consequences, and while I was far from happy about it, in a way, I'd come to accept it. At the very least, I'd prepared myself for it.

August's phone buzzed, and he tossed it to the side. It fell into the sand with a thud as it continued to go off. We'd been sitting on the beach for about an hour, watching as the sun dropped lower into the sky, and I'd lost count of the number of times his phone had gone off.

"Who is it this time?" I asked, but August just shook his head.

"I don't fucking care. Someone else who wants a statement, I'm sure. I don't even know how they got my number."

I nodded. "Are you going to give one? A statement?"

"Fuck, Castle." August groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't think I have the ability to say anything right now that isn't just a fuck you."

My gaze lingered on his face, noting the look of turmoil and distress. I hated seeing August like this, especially since he'd been so happy over the last week. And now he was back to brooding. I'd influenced both moods, but I wasn't sure if the good outweighed the bad.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and August's brows immediately drew inward. "You came back to Evergreen Isle to get away from this–from them–and now they've followed you here." I bit the inside of my cheek in thought before amending, "Actually, I followed you here. And then they followed me. I'm so sorry, August."

August shook his head, his lips opening and closing as he struggled to find words. And then they finally found their way out.

"You're sorry?" His eyes, intense and stormy, captured mine and wouldn't let go. "Quinn baby, there isn't a single part of this that you need to be sorry about. This is only happening because of me."

"Yeah, but–"

"Yes, they followed you," he cut in. "But the only reason they sent you in the first place was because of me. Because they knew I'm so fucking soft for you. Absolutely none of this is your fault, and I'm sorry you got dragged into my goddamn mess with this team. I know this means you probably won't want to stay here anymore, and fuck–"

"What?" It was my turn to cut him off, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

August blinked at me, those criminally long eyelashes fluttering with confusion. "If you want to salvage your career, you can't stay here, Quinn. You can't stay with me. It would only confirm everything they wrote."

"And why would you think I even care about salvaging anything after the email I sent last week?"

His voice dropped as he leaned toward me, the wind rustling his hair. "I can't let you sacrifice your entire career for me when you don't have to, Castle. You're an excellent reporter, and just because you're cutting ties with the Warriors doesn't mean you couldn't have a career elsewhere in the industry."

I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in and struggling to get over the implication he was making.

"Do you...do you want me to leave?"

"Christ, of course not." Anger seeped into August's tone again, but I knew it didn't have anything to do with me, just the situation. "Why do you think I'm so fucking pissed? I'm absolutely furious on your behalf, Castle, but I'm also a selfish man. And I want to destroy them for taking you away from me."

"They're not taking me away from you."

August's anger started seeping into me, and that resigned feeling began to dissipate. Because fuck them for trying to ruin something that felt so goddamn good. August felt so good. Being with him felt so good. And I could no longer imagine a life where I didn't get to experience...him.

Leaving this island? Leaving him? It just didn't seem like an option to me.

"They're not taking me away from you," I repeated. "Not if you don't let them."

"Fuck, baby." Torment ripped across August's face, gutting me from the inside out. A pinkish glow cast over him, a reflection of the sunset. But it only highlighted the anger in the lines of his face. "I'd do anything. Anything to keep you but also keep you happy."

"You make me happy," I whispered, even though I knew what he was saying.

I hadn't even had time to consider the implications of it. That by staying with August, I'd be giving up the one thing I'd ever thought to do with my life. Reporting. And was just having August, just being with him, enough?

"There's got to be another way," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "There's got to be a way to control the damage without high-tailing it back to New York and pretending that the picture of us was a misunderstanding."

"That's going to be hard enough on its own." August's fingers wrapped into a fist as he hit them against the sand. "It's hard to imagine that picture, and the way I'm looking at you, could be a misunderstanding. It's all over my fucking face how wild I am for you."

Even now, even as we were surrounded by scandal, my stomach filled with butterflies at August's words. He was wild for me? No, I was wild for him. So unbelievably gone for this man and the way he made me feel.

"But if you stay with me, there will be no denying it," August added with a delayed sigh. 

No denying it. No denying that I'd gotten cozy with the subject of an assignment. No denying that I crossed a line.

I crossed a line, but it wasn't like that. I just wanted to scream that it wasn't like that. What I felt for August had nothing to do with my job. I just felt him. It wasn't lust, it wasn't calculated, it wasn't some silly little fling that I'd move on from. I couldn't imagine moving on right now.

No denying it.

"Maybe I don't want to deny it," I said, training my eyes on the waves rolling peacefully as my mind spun. Usually, the ocean felt like some out-of-control, scary entity, but right now, that was how my mind felt as all my thoughts crashed together. "Maybe I want everyone to know you're mine, August."

I glanced back at him to see his eyes sparking, his lips tilting with that familiar look.

"Say it again."

"You're mine," I breathed, feeling so sure about those words.

August's entire mood flipped upside down; for just a second, he could forget what was being said about us on the internet. I wanted to stay in this moment, here on the beach, forever. This little bubble of bliss where we could just pretend that we could belong to each other even though it was wild to even think about.

"Never took you for a jersey chaser, Castle."

My lips tugged into a slight grin as I rolled my eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"I don't mind. You can chase my retired jersey any day, baby. But only mine."

"Only yours," I reassured him as my spirits rose. An idea had formed in my head, and I couldn't shake it. I wasn't sure I wanted to, even though it had to be a terrible idea—and a risky one, for sure. "It's only you, August. And I want everyone to know. And I want them to know why."

His brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

"It means I'm going to write an article about you, after all."

August didn't look like he understood, his head cocking to the side in thought. But that was okay. He didn't have to understand right now.

He would soon.

***

It only took me a few hours to write the article. It was about my favorite subject, so it wasn't hard. I'd been compiling notes on him for over a month. I'd been formulating the words I wanted to tell the world about him for weeks—the story I wanted to tell, not the one they wanted me to.

All I had to do now was let those words spill onto paper.

An article all about August Fletcher.

About the man behind the player.

About how he grew up loving the game because of the people who introduced it to him.

About how he loved playing for them until the world took them away.

About how the Warriors exploited that loss and made him want to turn his back on them the way they did to him.

I wanted the world to know why he hated the media and why I refused to become someone he would hate, too.

I needed everyone to know what a wonderful man he was and what beautiful things he did for his communities to give back to them. But he had nothing left to give to the Warriors community, not after they'd already taken everything from him.

I wrote the truth.

Every little bit of it.

Because I refused to go back, but I also refused to give up.

I was a damn good reporter because I reported the truth. I didn't twist it to fit an agenda or douse it in thinly veiled lies that could be misconstrued. And I'd never wanted to tell a story more than I wanted to tell August's.

Because at the very least, he deserved that. To have his true story told. Even at the end of the day, if the world still decided to cast me out and the sports world refused to take me back, I'd survive. Because at least I got to go out doing the one thing I loved, writing about the one person I was falling in love with.

It would be enough.

He was enough.

And now I just needed to sit back and wait to see if it was enough for the world, too.

☀️

a/n:

go get em Quinn! 🫶🫶🫶

thanks for reading!
Xoxo Amelie