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CHAPTER TWELVE

Kelton

“Who was the girl?” our catcher Tripp Nash asks as he pulls his shirt over his head.

I don’t reply right away hoping he’ll let it be and I can weasel my way out of this awkward situation.

But when he leans against the locker at my side and I can practically feel him breathing down my neck I realize I’m backed in a corner.

“My sister.” I shrug and am met with silence.

Glancing up I see Tripp with his arms crossed, staring at me with an arched brow.

“We are fully aware of who your little sister is.” I look back over my shoulder to see Callahan also staring me down. “We’re asking about the brunette that looked mortified when she realized the entire stadium of fans was looking at her.”

“Alizabeth’s best friend.” I do my best not to give them any reason to think otherwise. But these assholes are entirely too fucking nosy and they share a look. Suddenly half the lineup is staring me down. Damien is front and center, holding my stare.

“Just your sister’s bff, huh?”

I nod.

“I call bullshit.” He chuckles.

“Where’s Monroe?’ I do my best to redirect this conversation but he’s not having it.

“We aren’t talking about me, James.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a cocky grin. “We’re talking about you and that pretty brunette. Something’s telling me she’s a little more than sis’s best bud. I’m guessing she’s something to you too.”

Fuck why does my mouth feel so dry?

“Maybe we should ask the girl?” Tripp chuckles gaining the reaction he needs and I turn to face him. “And there it is, fellas. Kelton’s got a thing for the sister’s best friend.”

“Oh shit man, does the sister know?” Callahan asks with a chuckle.

“Until last night I would have said no.” No reason to keep trying to deny it. “Would have saved me a lot of dancing around.”

“So is this a current or a past thing?” Chase, our third baseman asks, leaning his shoulder against the locker opposite Tripp.

“What is this, Dr. Phil?” I’m suddenly surrounded, all eyes and attention on me and I hate it. “Don’t you idiots have something better to do than drill me?”

“I’m thinking we’d rather find out your plans and go there.

Seeing you dance around this girl, most likely embarrassing yourself in the process sounds much more entertaining.

” Our short stop Gunnar McNeer is normally so serious.

But I guess he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by to give me a little shit.

They weren’t going to let this go, so giving them a little seemed like the only way to go.

“We had a little thing before I left Chicago and moved here. We haven’t really talked since then.

She was younger, still had a lot waiting back home.

I left, she was in college, and that’s all it was.

Like I said she’s Liz’s best friend, and she’s been a part of my life long before her and I ever crossed a line.

She’s here visiting and at the end of the week she’ll go back home. It is what it is, pretty simple.”

“That shit sounds anything but simple.” Damien laughs. “Guarantee it gets real messy before she’s back on that plane.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re screwed.” He walks away shaking his head. “In more ways than one, enjoy it, run from it, whatever you choose, but it all ends the same.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.” Damien grabs his bag, throws it up over his shoulder and walks out. I’m met with silence and when I scan over the guys I see as brothers are all smiling.

“What?” And they give me nothing. Nothing but chuckles and knowing smirks they flash one another before pulling the same fucking thing Damien did.

When I am left with no one in the locker room but me I open my locker and there along the top shelf is a line of tiny ass rubber fucking ducks, like the assholes are mocking me too.

I’ve always found humor in how these damn little things appear everywhere at the most random times. But today, I find the bastards annoying.

Slamming shut the door to my locker, I grab my bag and walk out.

They were wrong.

This wasn’t going to blow up in my face.

It can’t, because I wasn’t about to let it.

I could keep this clean.

If what my sister said had any truth to it? That I wasn’t the only one feeling something. Why do things have to be difficult? We could make this work.

Couldn’t we?