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Chapter nineteen
Kai
Never, not even once, have I wished it wasn’t baseball season.
Seriously. I’m the guy who dreams of February, of spring training, of one hundred and sixty-two games, more if you’re good enough. The rest of the year pales in comparison. It’s a slog of endless days of practice, training, and preparation.
But right now, I’m wishing I wasn’t walking into the stadium to warm up for a game. I’m wishing I was walking the Stanley Park Seawall with Isabelle, showing her more of what Vancouver has to offer. Or treating her to a night out at some of my favourite spots.
Basically, I just want to be with her. I haven’t seen her in over two weeks, thanks to our travel schedule. Now that we’re back in town, I want to change that.
“Yami!”
The aggravated tone of voice makes it clear this isn’t the first time Darling’s called my name.
“Yeah bro, what’s up?”
He’s staring at me, and I shift on my feet, not looking away from him.
“I said, are you comin’ over for dinner tomorrow. Evie’s getting in tomorrow morning.”
A smile creases my face. I haven’t seen my little sister in ages. “Damn right, I’ll be there. She better be bringing my niece.”
Darling rolls his eyes, but I know he’s just as much of a sucker for Evie’s dog Ruthie as I am. “Of course she is. I need to see both my girls.”
I fake a shudder. “Dude.”
“What? We’re not in the locker room. That was the rule,” he teases as we come up to the door. “I can’t talk about your sister in the locker room.”
I scowl at my best friend. “Listen. You know what I meant when I said that. Stop being a jackass.”
He ignores me and pulls the door to the locker room open. But before he steps inside, he shoots one last shot over his shoulder. “Just don’t come over too early tomorrow. You know what I’m sayin’?”
I lunge forward to punch him, but he darts into the locker room and out of reach.
“Fucking southern gentleman my ass,” I shout out as I follow him in, but he knows I’m teasing. He also knows I’d kick his ass if he ever disrespected my sister. Best friend or not.
All our teasing and joking gets set aside as soon as Coach walks into the locker room. It doesn’t matter who’s dating who or who’s sleeping with who. Right now, we’re a team. A well-oiled, finely-honed machine, ready to dominate on the field.
Instead, we get our asses handed to us for four straight innings.
“For fuck’s sake!” Mav grunts from where he leans against the dugout railing. I can see his fists, tight at his sides, from where I sit on the bench. “No chance that was a strike.”
Some of the other guys grumble in agreement, but that’s as far as it goes. And after one warning glare from the batting coach, Mav also shuts up. But the anger and frustration is still palpable in the dugout. No one likes a shit call.
Monty slides onto the bench next to me, his knee nudging mine. “You ready?”
I give him a curt nod. “Those fuckers are going down.” I hold up my glove, and he bumps it with his own.
When the third and final out of the inning is called, we’re up and off the bench lightning fast, jogging out onto the field.
My first few warm-up pitches are good, but I’m not pushing the speed.
I’ll save that for the game. There’s still several innings to go, but goddamn it, I don’t like coming from behind like we are.
I do one final deep inhale and exhale before lifting my hand and rubbing the inside of my cap. My lips quirk up when I run my fingers over where I know Isabelle’s initials are written.
Time to make some magic.
And ten minutes later, I’m pumping my fist as we jog off the field. One player made contact but was tagged out when he tried to stretch a double.
“Nice work, Yami. Watch that drop on your curve. Your wrist angle was off on that last one.” Coach Stirling gives me a sharp nod.
“Got it.” I shake my arm to loosen it up and sit down. A trainer notices and comes over.
“Need anything?”
I shake my head, my focus on our guy who’s at bat. “Nah. All good.”
Thank fuck, my teammate makes contact and lands a double. This game is ours for the taking.
YAMI: You better not be naked cuz I’m OMW up.
DARLING: Fine I’ll put on pants.
I’ve learned the hard way not to use my key for Darling’s place when my sister is there. When she’s away at their place several hours away on Vancouver Island where she works, I let myself in. But when she’s in town…yeah. No. I’ll knock.
After hearing Ruthie, their massive Great Dane-mixed-with-who-the-fuck-knows-what-else, woofing loudly, I hear Evie shush her just before the door opens and I’m attacked by the vicious beast.
Fine, maybe attack is a strong word.
“Damn, Ruthie girl, where’s your manners?” I laugh as she jumps all over me, licking anywhere she can reach. “Wanna help, Gigi?” I look over at my sister, who’s watching, amused, as I try to manhandle her dog inside the apartment.
“Nope.”
“Mean.”
“Deal with it.” She pivots on her heel and struts into the apartment. I manage to get Ruthie and myself in, shutting the door behind me just as Rhett comes out from where their bedroom is. Wearing pants, as promised.
“Ruthie, space.” His sharp command has the dog backing away and sitting down with a quiet whine.
“Aw, come on, Dad, she was just being friendly.” I ignore his grunt of disapproval and drop down on my haunches to continue loving on my dog-niece.
“More like you were encouraging bad behaviour,” he says wryly.
I stand up after another minute and move to the stools at the kitchen counter. “So what’s for dinner?”
Evie’s at the stove, stirring something that smells good. Not as good as Isabelle’s carbonara, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“Lemon and herb halibut is in the oven with some roasted veggies, there’s a salad in the fridge, and I’m just finishing the sweet potatoes.”
I let out a low whistle. “Damn, Evie. I missed out on not having you live with me last summer. How come I didn’t know you could cook like that?”
She turns and places the pot of steaming mashed sweet potatoes on a trivet on the counter. “Because up until recently, I couldn’t. But I wanted to learn. I’ll be honest, the fish is a new recipe, so it might be gross.”
Darling leans over and kisses her cheek, his hand sneaking around her waist. I arch a brow at him, but the ass ignores me.
“It’ll be delicious, honey.”
“As long as we don’t die,” I add with a smirk.
Soon enough, we’re sitting at their table, full plates of admittedly delicious-looking and smelling food in front of us, when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I try to be subtle, pulling it out. But when I see Isabelle’s name, I can’t hide my reaction.
“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Darling asks before shoveling a forkful of food in his mouth.
“No one,” I say, pocketing my phone, even though I want to respond. I fill my own mouth with food and chew, hoping he lets it go. “Damn, Gigi, this is good.”
“Thanks,” my sister replies, her fork hovering above her own plate. “But I want to know who that was, too. I’ve never seen your face do that.”
“Do what?” I mumble around a forkful of salad. Evie grimaces and I just grin. I’m totally annoying her on purpose. I do know how to have good table manners, but bugging my baby sister is too much fun sometimes.
“Smile like that.” Evie eats her bite of food, still staring at me.
“What the hell are you talking about? I smile all the time.” I spread my arms out wide. “I’m a happy guy.”
“I know, but that was a different smile.”
I arch my brow at her. “You’re crazy.”
My phone vibrates again, and before I can stop myself, my gaze drops down to my pocket.
“See? There it is again!”
“Oh my fucking God, Gigi, I’m not doing any sorta weird smile.” I huff in annoyance, one hand clutching my leg over top of my phone, the other clenched tightly around my fork.
“My brother, you kinda are,” Darling says, almost apologetically. “But if you don’t wanna talk, you don’t have to. Right, Evangeline?” He levels a look at Evie that has her pursing her lips, but thankfully, she falls silent.
Even more thankfully, Isabelle doesn’t text again, so there’s no opportunity for my nosy-ass sister to bug me further.
We finish dinner, then move to the couch to hang out, the sports highlights on in the background.
It’s just like so many evenings I’ve spent here, both before Evie and Darling got together and after.
It never felt awkward. But tonight, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing. Or rather, someone.
Even with Ruthie curled up on the couch beside me as Evie and I destroy Darling in a game of poker, I feel…not lonely, but something kinda similar.
It isn’t ’til I’m driving home that I let myself imagine what it might have been like if Isabelle had been beside me, not the dog.
It’s a little scary how much I like that idea. And when I get home and finally let myself read her text messages, I start to realize no matter what I tell myself, it’s gonna fucking suck when she leaves.
IZ: So Willow invited me to watch the game with her and her friends in the stands tomorrow. Is that going to be weird? Me with your friends’ partners?
IZ: I won’t go if you don’t want me to. I know they’re all WAGS, or whatever you call them in baseball, and I’m not…but I like them, and it would be fun to watch the game. Let me know what you think.
IZ: Also… I can’t stop thinking about that night. It was amazing.
I stare at them for a long while, unsure of how to respond. Isabelle Murphy is finding her way into my life again. And when she leaves me this time, I won’t be able to pretend she doesn’t exist just to save my heart. There’s gonna be reminders of her everywhere.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41