Page 4 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

Squinting, he watched one of the professional golfers give a group of kids a lesson in putting. “And what if they don’t like what they see?”

A gentle hand came to rest on his bicep. He met his sister’s compassionate, unyielding gaze. “I think the real problem is that you don’t like what you see,” Erin said. “You’re hiding because you think the real you isn’t enough.” Her delicate brow furrowed. “Have you forgiven yourself, Dylan?”

The question scratched a nerve. How could he forgive himself? He drank too much one night and it may have cost him his career. He may never pitch the same again. All because he wanted an escape from the pressure.

It almost got him killed.

He wouldn’t forgive himself until he fixed everything. If he fixed everything.

“Have you had any more nightmares or panic attacks lately?” Erin asked.

Dylan clenched his jaw, staring out across the sunbathed green. He felt like a shadow looming over it. “Sometimes.”

“You can take more time off,” she said. “You don’t have to come back next season …”

They’d had this discussion. He’d told her that wasn’t an option.

Dylan flipped his hat around his fingers before securing it on his head. Tilting his chin toward the kids, he said, “Maybe I should join their lesson, so I don’t embarrass myself on the course anymore.”

The corners of Erin’s lips tipped down, and he waited for her to call out his not-so-subtle deflection.

She peered over her shoulder at the boy squaring off with the hole a few yards away.

The professional golfer said something to him.

The boy poised himself with a putter, then gracefully swung.

The golf ball rolled across the green straight into the hole.

The other kids gasped and cheered in delight as the pro congratulated him.

“I wouldn’t,” Erin said. “Getting shown up by kids would be even more embarrassing.” She patted his right shoulder—the good one. “Best to quit while you’re ahead.”

A corner of his mouth rose despite himself.

He watched the other two kids excitedly fight for the next turn, jumping around the professional golfer and vying for his attention.

Dylan’s smile turned somber. The shock had finally worn off, and a knot of shame twisted in his gut, recalling the look on the mom’s face as she dragged her son away from him as if she’d found him conversing with a criminal.

He wasn’t the one who had been driving the damn boat when it crashed, but to the public, he may as well have been.

Shit. Is that what Lennon thought?

Despite the balmy air, an icy ripple ran down his spine. Maybe that’s why Lennon never reached out after Erin gave her the letter. Maybe she didn’t care about his apology because she didn’t believe him. It was too little, too late.

Dylan couldn’t even argue with her about that.

“Hey. You OK?” Erin gently rubbed his upper arm.

His jaw tensed. “I talked to Lennon.”

Erin paused, her eyes slightly widening. “You did? When?”

“Today. She was trying to call you, but she accidentally called me,” Dylan said, wondering what it meant that she hadn’t told Erin about it.

She dropped her hand to the ledge with a sigh. “She texted me while I was in class, but we haven’t had the chance to talk yet. She told you about the record deal?”

“Yeah.” A rock sat on his chest. He tightened his brow as he looked out over the lawn. “She’s heartbroken.”

The same pain he felt was evident in Erin’s sigh. “I told her I’d have my phone on me all day.” She pulled it out of the pocket of her denim shorts, presumably checking to see if she’d missed anything from Lennon. The way she frowned at the screen told him she hadn’t. “How did it go? The call.”

What a loaded question. One he had no idea how the hell to answer.

Dylan shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, she didn’t tell me to go fuck myself, so not terrible, I guess?”

Erin’s brows rose in encouragement. “That’s a good start.”

“I just wish it had been under different circumstances. I hope I didn’t make what she was going through worse.”

“You know Lennon. If you had, she would’ve hung up on you.”

Dylan huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “That’s true.” Maybe there was hope she’d eventually allow him back in her life. The idea released some of the weight on his chest. Without her, life had lost its color, like a song playing in the wrong key.

“You want to talk about it?”

He considered it for a beat, but something about it didn’t feel right. Not when Lennon hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet. “Not now.” He gave her a faint smile. “But I think I will take you up on the PT. All those bad swings are starting to set in.”

As Erin hopped off the ledge, he turned to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He sucked a sharp breath through his nose at the motion, wincing as his shoulder twinged. If his baseball career never recovered, golf was definitely off the table as an alternative.

“Good job, Dodo,” she jibed, employing her favorite childhood nickname for him. “At this rate, you’ll be able to play baseball again when you’re Dad’s age.”

“Thanks, Emu. Have I told you lately you’re a great sister?”

Erin moved to his other side, guiding his right arm over her shoulders and settling her left around his back. “Not nearly enough. But I’m in town for a few more days, so you have time to make up for it.”