Page 34 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

Addie

More people show up to watch Benny Preston play a little league game than for my college games, and I tell my brother as much. Beside me, Roman chuckles. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.”

Since Benny personally invited me, of course I said yes, and when I told Roman my plans, he wanted to be here too. “For the nostalgia.”

All of Benny’s grandparents are here, as well as every one of the Preston kids and their significant others. The twins and Lucas are in the dugout, coaching. The only one who isn’t here is Benny’s dad, Leo—the only Preston sibling I’ve yet to meet. According to Mia, he’s stuck at work.

The game takes place at the same rundown ball park where I used to play, and Benny’s uniform is the same as mine was, red and blue—the same colors as the Preston Construction logo—which makes sense considering they sponsor the team, and I don’t know why I never connected the dots before.

The teams break apart and get into position, and while Benny jogs toward the outfield, Liam jumps the fence and heads toward the bleachers… toward me .

“What’s up?” he asks Roman, and they do that generic bro-handshake bros do.

Then he narrows his eyes at me. We’d spent all night texting, and most of the day, too, so I don’t know what I could’ve done to make him look at me the way he is.

He sighs, right before he removes his ball cap, dumps it on my head, then reaches behind him to reveal sunscreen.

I take it from him. “Your shoulders,” he deadpans, and it’s all he says before turning and walking away.

“So bossy,” I mumble, adjusting the cap. I squirt sunscreen on my palm just as Roman chuckles. I glare at him. “What?”

He throws his hands up between us, shaking his head. “I didn’t say a word.”

Both teams are… not that great, but that’s to be expected, and it’s not why we’re all here.

At this age, in this league, there’s no keeping score.

The “crowd,” made up of mostly Benny’s family, cheers loudly when he finally comes up to bat.

He’s the last on the team to do so. I can understand the excitement, the sounds of encouragement, but I also have to wonder how that comes across for a kid Benny’s age?

If he feels any pressure at all? I mean, his papa flies in to watch him play.

Benny stands beside home plate, focused on his hand placement on the bat.

He stops, looks over his shoulder toward the dugout.

I sit taller the moment Liam raises his chin, says something I can’t make out.

Benny motions him over, and Liam immediately goes to him.

They talk for a few seconds before Liam turns to the bleachers, waving someone over.

I look behind me, but none of the Prestons are reacting.

Roman elbows my side. “He’s asking for you.

” I glance back at Liam, and sure enough…

After jumping the fence, I jog toward home plate, but the umpire blocks my path. “Only coaches on the field,” he says, hand out to stop me.

My eyes narrow. “They’re seven .”

“Rules are rules.”

Liam joins us now, and he slips out of his coach’s jersey and haphazardly places it over my shoulders. “There,” he says as I shove my arms through the sleeves. “Now she’s a coach.”

“Nice try, but no.”

Liam groans. “Look, man. That kid is my nephew, and he?—”

“I know who he is,” the umpire cuts in. “And if you think he gets special treatment because of who his grandparents are, then?—”

“You’re kidding!” I snap, suddenly furious.

Liam sighs. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

I wish I could punch the stupid grin off the umpire’s face.

I still might. Later. When no kids are around.

He waves his hand toward Benny, clearing the path. “Go ahead, Coach .”

I wait until I’m a few steps away to mutter, “Asshole.”

Liam chuckles, but I don’t find it funny at all.

I attempt to calm my shit before reaching Benny and squatting down in front of him. “You okay?”

“Can you help?” he asks. “I forgot what you showed me.”

“Sure.” I help him with his hand placement, but I have a feeling that’s not what this is about. I gently grasp his shoulders and wait until his eyes are on mine. “Remember. It ain’t worth playin’…”

One side of his mouth kicks up. “…if you ain’t havin’ fun.”

I lean back, shake my shoulders—his signature move.

He giggles, looks around as if making sure no one is watching, then quickly does the same.

“You got this, Benny,” I tell him, tugging the brim of his cap. “Have fun .”

I leave, aiming for the bleachers, but Liam grasps my arm. “Come on, Coach ,” he says, leading me to the dugout.

After quick greetings with the other Preston brothers, the game resumes.

Benny swings and misses, then lowers the bat, leans all the way back, and shimmies his shoulders.

Liam and Lincoln’s laughter is identical.

Second strike, Benny rides the bat like a horse—whip and all.

“What is he doing?” Lucas asks through a chuckle.

Lincoln’s the one who answers, “It ain’t worth playin’ if you ain’t havin’ fun.”

Benny’s act goes on for longer than expected, and the dugout fills with boyish giggles.

After his third strike, Benny throws the bat and…

twerks. Liam busts out a laugh, as well as the rest of the Prestons watching from the bleachers.

With the game now over, the team rushes the field, and now there’s a bunch of little kids surrounding Benny, dancing with him, all laughing, showing each other their dance moves.

“Fuck it,” Liam says, grabbing my hand and dragging me onto the field.

He finally caves, mimicking Benny’s moves, minus the twerking, and the pure joy in Benny’s laugh has me grinning like an idiot.

Benny takes both my hands, making me dance with him, and of course, I do.

Because who could say no to little Benny Preston?

It only lasts a few seconds before he releases me, his eyes wide. “Daddy!” He takes off, running toward?—

My smile slips as I watch Benny run into the arms of his dad… a cop in full uniform .

“Did you see, Dad?” Benny exclaims. “I struck out!”

“I saw!”

“Come meet Addie!”

I try to escape, but I’m surrounded by too many bodies, kids mainly, and—unfortunately—I can’t just fly-kick them all away.

“Addie!” Benny yells behind me, and I freeze, my eyes shutting tight. I take in one full breath, then another, before opening them and turning around. I don’t know if my fake smile is convincing or if I look crazy. Probably the latter.

Benny’s standing off to the side, holding on to his dad with one hand, the other waving me over. I gather the courage I need and slowly make my way toward them, sidestepping all the parents collecting their kids.

“Daddy, this is Addie.” Benny beams up at his dad, the pure pride in his eyes evident.

“Hi, Addie,” Leo says, and up close, he’s huge . Muscle upon muscle. Definitely the biggest of all the Preston boys. I follow Benny as he leaves to say goodbye to his friends, only turning back when Leo adds, “My wife tells me you helped Benny with his swing.”

“Yeah, a lot of good that did,” I try to joke.

“Yeah, but he looked like he had a blast out there.”

I can’t meet his eyes. Or him at all. I’m staring down at the ground, unable to settle the pounding in my chest. Thankfully, Roman appears, handing me a bat. “For old time’s sake.” I’ve never been more grateful for an interruption.

Without a word, I leave Leo behind and tell Roman, “Don’t go easy on me, old man!”

He’s making his way to the pitcher’s mound, and he turns, walking backward as he replies, “Talking trash already?”

Liam’s already in a catcher’s position, no glove, and most of the boys have cleared the field, either to leave or watch.

I get in position and jerk my head once, ready.

Roman’s either gotten really rusty over time, or I’ve gotten way better, because a loud crack sounds when the bat connects with the ball…

Liam stands slowly, watching the ball fly through the air and completely out of the park.

“Welp…” he murmurs. “That’s only slightly hot.”

“That was pure luck!” Roman shouts, and he’s already got another baseball in hand, ready to go.

“Go ahead,” I yell. “Test your theory.”

He does. Same outcome.

Liam lets out a low whistle. “This is a horrible time to be as turned on as I am.”

I laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“I’m kidding ,” he says, taking my hand and squeezing once.

The idiot umpire returns. “Y’all need to pack up now. There’s another game in an hour.”

“An hour ?” I ask.

“Clear the field, young lady.”

I wait for him to leave before muttering, “This fucking guy…”

“You should get Roman to take you to the batting cages,” Liam says. “Get in that clearly unneeded workout you were talking about.” He takes the bat from me, throws it in a bag with the others.

“Or you could take me,” I suggest.

His nose scrunches, one eye squinting against the sun. “I don’t really…” he trails off.

“…like crowds?” I finish for him, looking around us. “You seemed fine out here.”

He responds with a shrug, and I watch him a moment as he throws a single, random shoe into the gear bag. I open my mouth, ready to push him on the issue, but Leo seems to reappear out of thin air. “Can I borrow Addie for a minute?” he asks Liam, as if I’m not even here.

“Just for a minute,” Liam tells him. “I’m quite fond of her presence.”

The last time I was this close to a uniformed cop for this long, he was twice my size, tackling me to the ground and shoving my face into the dirt while I screamed for my brother.

I still remember the way the handcuffs dug into my wrists as I sat in the back of the squad car, struggling for air, but that wasn’t even the worst part.

It was what happened after—sitting in a fucking interrogation room for hours, completely clueless to what was happening. They asked question after question, all of which I had no answers to. I didn’t know about Roman’s illegal activities, nor did I take part in them.