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Chapter fourteen

Kai

“You keep starin’ at your phone like it’s gonna sprout wings and fly away.” Darling’s drawl reaches me from the row of seats behind me. I turn in my seat and see him leaning over the back of the one next to me, a wry grin on his face. “Who are you waitin’ to hear from?”

“No one.” I turn forward again, my hand tightening around my phone. I won’t pick it up again while he’s watching.

But he’s a persistent asshole sometimes. Next thing I know, my supposed best friend on the team is sliding into the empty seat next to me, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me.

“Spill, Yami. You’ve been different for weeks now. Ever since Isabelle showed up.”

“Keep your voice down,” I snap, looking around wildly to see who else heard him say her name.

But it’s late and the team is tired enough that most of the guys are passed out as the team bus takes us from northeast Washington into Idaho for our next set of games.

Coach is up front, thankfully far enough that he couldn’t have heard Darling.

“What the hell’s goin’ on, brother?”

I let my head fall back against the seat with a thunk.

“Are we grilling Yami on why he’s been MIA the last few weeks? I mean, I know I’ve been busy with Lark and Stella and all, but it’s still weird you haven’t wanted to go out. You even skipped the last couple of donut runs. What gives?”

Great, now Monty’s in on it. The catcher leans over the back of the seat in front of us, resting his chin on his hands as he looks at me expectantly.

“Seriously? Nothing’s going on, you’re all busy with your women. That’s what’s changed. Not me.”

Lies, lies, lies. They taste like dirt coming off my tongue.

“Bullshit.”

Darling’s tone leaves no room for argument, but my hackles go up, nonetheless.

“Bullshit? Nah, man. Bullshit was you making moves on my sister and not telling me.”

“Woah, easy there, boys.” Monty sticks his hands out at each of us. “Don’t say shit you can’t take back.”

I exhale and turn to Darling. “Sorry, bro. Monty’s right, that wasn’t cool. You know I’m good with you and Evie.”

Darling lifts his hand up and we bump fists. “All good, brother. But seriously, is somethin’ going on with you? I feel like you’re pulling back.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Coach’s new daughter, would it?” Monty waggles his eyebrows suggestively as I glare at him.

“Shut it, Monty.”

Thankfully, he drops his volume. Not so thankfully, he doesn’t let it go. “Oh it is about Isabelle, isn’t it! Damn, son. I heard you two were friends, but maybe it was more than friends?”

Fucking hell. They’re figuring it out. And I’m so damn tired of hiding everything.

After taking another look around to make sure no one else is listening in, I gesture for the guys to come closer.

“Alright, listen. This stays between us. Got it? No one else can know. I mean no one. Not even Evie and Lark.”

I look at the two of them in turn, waiting until they give me a sober nod of understanding.

“Yes. Isabelle and I have a history. We dated in college. I… fuck , I loved her. Then she left, we lost touch, and now she’s suddenly here again and it’s fucking weird.”

“Holy shit,” Darling curses. “Wait a goddamn second.” He leans forward, and before I know what he’s doing, he’s whipped the hat off my head and is flipping it over.

“I.M. What’s Isabelle’s last name?” He stares at me.

“You write those initials on every single hat you wear. I always wondered what the hell it meant. It’s her, isn’t it? ”

I snatch the hat back and slam it on my head. “Isabelle Murphy.”

“Fuck,” Monty says, rubbing his hand across his mouth. “You still love her.”

“No, I don’t,” I fire back. “Trust me, I got over her a long time ago. We’re just friends now. Nothing more.”

They’re both silent for a minute, and another, before Monty goes and opens his big mouth again.

“Do you want to be more than just friends?”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s leaving in a couple of months. Headed back to Italy.” I can hear the bitterness in my voice, and it pisses me off. I don’t need to feel bitter about Iz leaving again.

“But she’s here for now.” Monty doesn’t let up.

“So?” I ask, really wishing he’d just let it go. “Nothing’s gonna happen. She doesn’t want that from me.” Although, that kiss the other day could indicate maybe she does. Then again, the way she ran out of my apartment like she was on fire says that she doesn’t.

I care about her enough to hope she doesn’t regret it, but she still hasn’t answered the text I sent the next morning to check in, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna chase after her.

She left me eight years ago. And at the time, it destroyed me.

She left me again a few days ago, after that kiss. At least this time, I know I’ll survive if she doesn’t want to see me again.

I won’t like it, but I’ll survive.

“Attaboy, Yami.” Coach slaps my back as I jog off the field at the end of an inning. Somehow, I manage to twist my grimace into a smile.

“Thanks.”

I move past him as quickly as I can. It feels shitty to avoid him the way I am these days. But it’s bad enough I confessed my past with Iz to Darling and Monty on the bus the other night. The last thing I need is anyone else finding out and word getting back to Coach.

At least Isabelle finally texted me. We chatted back and forth after the last game I pitched. She didn’t mention the kiss, but just hearing from her was enough.

I rotate my arm slowly, suppressing a wince.

My shoulder’s feeling tight and sore, guaranteed I’m gonna need some work from the trainers.

Thank fuck it’s the last game of this set against Idaho and tomorrow is just a travel day.

Not that a bus ride is gonna feel great on it.

I’ve only had to pitch twice on this away trip, but they were rough games.

“Did you have to throw that hard?” Monty whines as he drops down on the bench beside me. “My fucking glove still stings.” He holds up his hand as I arch a brow at him.

“Really?”

He grins. “Nah, I’m shitting you. That was amazing, bro. We’re on fire.”

I nod. “Trust me, I’m aware.”

“Damn. Shoulder?”

I nod again but don’t put words to it. Call me superstitious, but if I don’t say it out loud, it isn’t a real problem.

“Whose shoulder?”

Ah, fuck.

I hadn’t noticed Mattias, the head trainer, was standing nearby. Close enough to hear Monty, apparently. The traitor slides down the bench, away from me, and that’s enough for Mattias to focus his attention on me.

“Yami?”

“It’s tired,” I say, hoping that’s enough.

It’s not. He comes over beside me and starts rotating my shoulder, poking and prodding, staring at my face for any sign of discomfort. He goes through a full assessment, and I know better than to hide it, so when he hits one spot, I wince.

“Yeah, that doesn’t feel so great. Just tight, I think.”

“Hmm,” he says. “I think you’re done for today. I want you in an ice bath, then we’ll tape it before you head to the bus.”

I curse under my breath but give him a nod of acknowledgment. His smile is probably meant to be sympathetic, but it’s just annoying to me. I watch him head over to Coach’s side and update him. Coach’s head snaps around to look at me, then he turns forward again, leaning against the railing.

Darling comes off the field. Shit, I feel bad I didn’t even realize he was up to bat, much less running the bases. Given the grin on his face, I’d guess he just scored another run.

He drops down next to me, stripping off his batting gloves. “These assholes are makin’ us work.”

I grunt. He looks over at me, his brows drawing together. “You good?”

“Out for the last two innings.”

“Shit. Why?”

“Shoulder.” I give it a rotation. It still doesn’t feel like anything more than some tightness, but better to be careful when you’re a starting pitcher.

“Your sister gives spectacular shoulder massages when I’m sore.” He grins, winking at me. “Too bad she saves it all for me.”

“Fuck off. What did I say about talking to me about whatever you and Evie get up to?” I groan as I turn and glare at him. There’s no heat behind it, however. I really am happy for the two of them. That doesn’t mean I need to be thinking about my sister putting her hands on my best friend.

“Maybe your old friend Isabelle will give you a rubdown,” he teases and I growl under my breath.

“Shut. Up.”

He glances over at Coach, then back to me, his smirk falling into a concerned expression. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Fuck, Yami, if he finds out about you two…”

“It’s in the past. There’s nothing to find out.”

Nothing except the best kiss I’ve had in eight fucking years.

“Still. Better be careful.”

“I’m not the one teasing about her giving me a fucking massage,” I hiss.

Holding his hands up, Darling stands and steps away. “Point taken.”

But later, on the bus carrying us back to the hotel, I stare out the window, thinking about Isabelle. That kiss forced me to face one fact. I still want her.

More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.

It’s not just about how easy it is to be around her, how quickly it feels like I have my best friend back, the woman who makes me relax completely. Her presence calms my soul, and the taste of her, the feel of her lips, the warmth of her body against mine is heaven.

Nothing compares to that.

Never has, never will.

I might have managed to ignore or deny that truth for eight long-ass years, but now that she’s back in my life, I’m starting to think I’m royally fucked. Because the other truth I can’t ignore or deny is that she’s not here to stay.