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5

VALUABLE

Jamie

“Oy, Commander, if we don’t do something now, this ship is going down!”

“Roger that. Defensive measures!” Calvin runs over to me and pulls the cardboard lever next to me. Then he looks up at me. “Do that silly voice again.”

“Oy, you better run down the floodgates and batten up your skivvies!”

Calvin doubles over laughing at my bastardized Scottish accent. Or is it Irish? Maybe Australian? I don’t know. Baseball is my thing, not acting.

He straightens up suddenly when the massive box we’re sitting in moves.

“We’re under attack.”

“Get behind me!”

I shove his little body behind mine, then stick my head out the cutout for the door, only to take a foam dart directly to the forehead.

“Gotcha,” Penny says, pretending to holster her plastic gun.

Before I can pretend to be dead, Calvin jumps on my shoulders and sticks his head out the top hatch, hitting Penny square in the chest with a dart.

“Ugh! I hate you.” Then she dramatically falls to the ground.

Cal looks down at little Mila, who looks back at him with big eyes.

“Mila, switch to our team.”

She shrugs and climbs over me into the box. “Okay, we have to set course for a new galaxy,” Cal says, despite the fact I’m his dead second-in-command hanging out of his ship. At least have the courtesy to put me out the airlock.

“No, we don’t.” And out of nowhere, Mila shoots Cal in the back with a dart. “Girls win.”

Penny jumps off the floor and dances around.

“No fair! You cheated!”

“Mila never took an oath to you. She was still on my team.”

Penny and Cal are only seventeen months apart in age, and they are almost always at each other’s throats. Mila is usually neutral, unless Penny gets her hyped up on girl power. Then poor Cal doesn’t stand a chance.

“You’re a brat,” Cal yells.

“Well, you’re stinky!” Penny shouts.

As their older sibling, it’s probably my job to intervene here, but I hate disciplining them. I like that they see me as their fun older brother and not a third parent. So instead, I let out a long groan, then slowly sit up, acting like a zombie… monster… thing.

Cal’s eyes get huge. “Get in the ship! He’s a zombie alien now!”

Sure, that’s totally what I was going for.

“No,” Penny says, coming to stand next to Cal. “He’ll just follow us. We have to… Take. Him. Down.”

She glances at Cal and Mila, then all three of them jump on me at once.

I put in some fake effort and thrash my arms, trying to escape. At least they’re working together now.

Mom comes to the doorway and leans against it. “What’s going on in here?”

I throw my hand out and let out a pathetic, “Help me.”

“Hm,” Mom says, watching my three younger siblings beat me up. Finally, she smiles. “Lunchtime!”

All three leap off me and run for the door.

“Finally,” I sigh, then slowly get up, stretching my sore muscles as I walk toward the door.

“Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t enjoying that,” Mom says, leading the way down the hall from the playroom to the kitchen.

My siblings are already sitting on stools at the kitchen island as Dad puts plates with chicken nuggets, ketchup, and fruit in front of them.

I sit down next to Cal, then Dad puts a plate of chicken nuggets in front of me.

My gaze drops to it. “Really? I’m seventeen, not seven.”

Penny makes a derisive noise at that.

“That’s why you get the special spicy sauce,” Mom says, putting some sriracha mayo in front of me.

Dad looks at me with fake awe. “They grow up so fast.”

“Just remember, the older I get, the older you get, old man.”

“Old man? I’m still young and spry. Hip.”

“Not making a case for yourself, honey,” Mom says, sliding a salad in front of him.

Dad looks down at it and frowns. “I’ll trade you for some nuggets.”

I hold my hand out and wiggle it back and forth. “Not exactly an equal trade.”

“Oh, sure. Now you want the nuggets.”

I grab his bowl and my plate and walk around to the other side of the counter. After a few minutes, I sit back down and put a bowl in front of him and a matching one at my spot. Both are filled with salad then topped with chicken nuggets and ranch dressing.

“Fair compromise,” Dad says.

“So, when are you planning to leave for Old Lake Town?” Mom asks.

I’m going up to SUNY FL for a long weekend to see Aaron coach his first game. After everything he’s been through, he found his way back to baseball and out of the darkness. Amanda was right about that. He had to do it on his own. While I don’t regret holding him accountable, I probably could’ve been more supportive. Which is why going up there today is also a surprise. We’ve talked plenty over the last couple of months, but it’ll be good to see him in person.

“I’ll probably pack and head out after this.”

“And will Amanda be there?” Mom asks with zero subtlety.

I stop with my fork halfway to my mouth. “I’d assume so, since she goes there.”

“Who’s Amanda?” Penny asks.

“Just a friend.”

“Mm. Friend,” Dad says under his breath.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

He picks up his iPad and looks at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “I just said ‘hm.’ There are all sorts of interesting things happening in the world right now.”

“Smooth,” Mom says.

“You brought it up.”

“Is Amanda your girlfriend?” Penny asks.

“No. She’s just a friend.”

“Then why are you going to visit her?”

I sigh and set my fork in my bowl, turning to look over Calvin’s head at Penny.

“I’m going to visit Aaron. Amanda goes to school at the same place. That’s how I met her. She lives in the same place as Rae and the girls.”

“Oh. I love Miss Rae. She’s so much fun.”

Rae worked as a nanny through high school and babysat for my siblings on occasion .

When no one says anything else, I take a bite of my food, hoping the conversation is over. I’m not that lucky.

“Can I see a picture of her?”

“Rae?”

“No. Amanda. Is she pretty?”

I feel the heat of my parents’ stares on me as I lock eyes with my little sister once again.

“Yes. She’s… pretty.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, son,” Dad says.

Looking at the three sets of little eyes on me, I throw up a peace sign at my dad, then over my shoulder mutter, “Pretend my pointer is down.”

Dad starts laughing so hard he almost chokes on his food.

“I have five children,” my mother sighs.

“Seriously, you started this,” I tell her.

“Can I see a picture, pleaseeeeee?” Penny whines.

“Fine,” I sigh, pulling out my phone. I go to Amanda’s social media and pull up a selfie of her smiling brightly, the sun behind her making her hair look redder, then hand my phone to Penny.

“Oh, wow. She’s really pretty.”

Yeah, she is. Only a moron would think she’s not. She’s gorgeous. But I sure as shit can’t say that.

“And you think she’s pretty,” Penny says, handing my phone back. “I think you should date her.”

Now Mom chokes and coughs on her sip of water.

“Serves you right,” I hiss. Then I put my big brother voice back on and turn back to Penny. “I’m not going to date her.”

“Why not? Oh. Does she not like you?”

I put a hand to my forehead. “She likes me fine. We just don’t want to date. Contrary to what some people think, boys and girls can be just friends.”

Penny’s brow scrunches. “Well, I guess that’s true. But you should still think about it. I think I’d like an older sister one day.”

Again, I feel my parents’ intense stares, but I make some kind of affirmative noise to Penny, then eat the rest of my salad as fast as I can.

If life were simpler, maybe there could be something between Amanda and me, but we both have separate focuses and goals, and we’re determined to achieve them.

But as I load up my car and settle in for the drive, I can’t deny that I’m excited to spend the weekend with her.

“So, are you ready for your season to start?” Aaron asks as we lounge on the oversized couches in the lake house. My family has money, but I never realized Joel’s family was loaded too. This place is huge and fancy. It has six bedrooms plus lake access. It’s insane.

The game today was great. I got to see Aaron in action as a coach—not that I’d never seen it before. He’s been working with me for years, but this was different. It was watching him in his element as a professional, and he kicked ass.

College starts a couple of weeks before we do, plus we’re still on spring break, so I’ve got another seventeen days until my first game of the season.

“I’m ready. Not sure what to expect in terms of if anyone will be watching me.”

“You know they will.”

“Not big scouts. Not yet.”

“There might be. Maybe not in person, but from a distance. Local media will be covering it for sure. Your name has gotten around, Jame. Even my coach knows. Don’t underestimate the power in that.”

“Do you think I’m good enough to make the draft out of high school?”

“Yeah. I do. You won’t go as high as you would if you went to a D1 school first, though. ”

I nod slowly. It’s a lot to think about, and there aren’t a lot of guidebooks for stuff like this. Going from a high school athlete or even a college one into professional sports is a whirlwind. I have to think about agents even though I can’t legally get advice from one until after I’m drafted. But I’m supposed to make those connections so I can have one I plan to work with when the time comes. It’s confusing and stressful and not what I want to focus on.

“I just want to play the best baseball I can this year.”

“That’s all you have to do,” Aaron reassures me. “You planning to do any camps this summer?”

“Not really. Coach mentioned some new one but couldn’t tell me anything about it. I’ve done Cooperstown ones before, but I don’t feel like there’s that much new for me to learn. I need to hone my skills, not gain new ones. That’s where you come in.”

“Can you afford me? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m kind of a big deal coach now.”

“Such a big deal. I’m truly honored and humbled to be in your presence.”

He grins at me. “As you should be.”

I lean back against the couch. “Think we’ll still have this when I make it to the majors?”

“Of course. I’m going to be mooching off you for free baseball tickets. I’ll crash on your couch and go to your games. Be your hype man.”

I snort at that. “Yeah, right. I’d bet anything you and Rae will be married and popping out babies before I’m fully settled in the league.”

His eyes meet mine.

“Yeah, I know you said it’s a work in progress between you two, but the keyword there is progress . We all know you’ll end up together.”

“What about you and Amanda?” he asks.

“Not you too. My parents—and Penny—already bugged me about this earlier.”

Again, I get that shit-eating grin .

“You know what I’ve learned over the years? If everyone else around you sees something, there might just be something there.” Then he stands up and stretches, yawning for effect. “I’m gonna head up to bed. You coming?”

I stand too. “Nah. I’m going to grab something else to eat first. I’m starving. I’ll be up after that.”

“Sounds good.”

He claps me on the shoulder and heads up the stairs as I go to the kitchen to find food.

And not think about Amanda. Not think about our playful flirtation or the way she always calls me baseball boy. Nope. I need to get Amanda out of my head.

“Oh, hi.”

I spin around, the light from the refrigerator illuminating the kitchen.

That’s a lot easier to do when she’s not standing in front of me looking mesmerizing.

Amanda

I couldn’t sleep. Not that it’s a big surprise. My brain never stops. I’m always thinking of something I have to do. Something I can work on. An idea that will never turn into something. It’s the curse of being a type A creative.

It takes melatonin, a sleep mask, noise canceling earbuds with calming music, and a blessing from the goddess of sleep for me to crash out. Once I do, I sleep like a rock, but until then, I’m wandering this giant fancy lake house in the middle of the night.

Or in this case, standing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen—where I was hoping to find brownies—and staring at him .

Jamie Henderson. All devastating blue eyes, fiery red hair, and freckles scattered everywhere.

“Hey, Amanda,” he chokes out, clearly as surprised as I am. But the surprise fades in a second, and an easy smile lights up his face.

Or that’s the light from the refrigerator.

I need to get a grip.

“Hey, Jamie.”

He shuts the refrigerator door, then flicks on the light over the large kitchen island.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

“Me either. But I couldn’t sleep. Why are you digging through the fridge?”

He pats his stomach. “I’m a growing boy.” He holds up a slice of cold pizza.

“Right.”

I scoot around him, trying to act normal. But that’s not so easy.

Since we first met at the Christmas party, there’s been something in the air every time we’re in the same space. Everything feels heightened. Electrically charged somehow. I hate it. I’m never tongue-tied around guys. Or girls. Or whoever I’m interested in. I don’t care about anyone’s gender or sexual identity, only that they’re a decent human.

But right now, I can barely form a coherent sentence. I’m air headed and my insides feel a little too warm and gooey.

How many languages can I say not an option in? Unfortunately, not many. I learned American Sign Language years ago, and I’ve found it the most useful second language to know. I picked up a little Spanish because one of the cooks at the event company I used to work at is from Colombia and speaks it fluently. I figure if I’m going to work in event planning, the more languages I know, the better.

But something inside me doesn’t want to believe Jamie isn’t an option, no matter what language I say it in, and I’ve developed a ridiculous crush on him.

“What kept you up?” Jamie asks, and I almost jump out of my skin .

Another one of my shining personality traits. I get lost in my head a lot.

“My brain is always going and one thing led to another, and now… I need brownies.”

He chuckles. “Rae makes the best brownies. I think there are some cheesecake ones in there.”

I yank the door open and my mouth waters when I spot them.

As I pull the container out, my skin prickles. Jamie’s body brushes mine as he reaches in and pulls the container of pizza out, already going for another slice.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and catch his smirk.

My hand stills on the container of brownies as Jamie’s warmth fades away. Alone again, I lean a little farther into the refrigerator, suck in a deep breath, then turn around, summoning my bold side.

“Growing boy, huh?”

He grins at me from the kitchen island. “Yep.”

“Well, I think I’m done growing, but you’ll have to pry these brownies from my cold, dead hands.”

He tilts his head. “Anyone who tries to control what you eat deserves what they get.”

“Including having important body parts removed?” I purr.

He strides over to me, looking much older than he actually is. “Fair punishment. I’m serious, you know. You shouldn’t ever have to make excuses for what you eat. Life’s too short not to enjoy good food. I hate when I have to restrict myself or adhere to specific diets. I do it because being in good shape for the game is important to me, but if it wasn’t for that, I’d eat pizza every day.”

I blink at him, wishing I could find the right words or some sassy comeback, but I’ve always been aware that I’m not the skinny one. Well, not always. A doctor made a comment on it when I was ten, and it was the first time I thought there was something wrong with me. The doctor tried to suggest a diet, at which point my mother asked me to wait in the hall. I heard a few curse words before she stormed out. We never went back there again, but the damage was done. Especially because not too long after that, I started the hellscape that was middle school. Being the “chubby” girl wasn’t fun.

Eventually, I learned to embrace my curves. I love my body. But the desire to meet that thin model-like appeal was conditioned into me. I have to actively fight against it. Some days that takes a lot of fucking energy.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He slowly shakes his head. “You’re gorgeous. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Then he steps back and grabs two plates. He puts two pieces of pizza on his and two brownies on mine.

“Want to go sit on the back deck? It’s a beautiful night.”

“Sure. I’ll grab some blankets.”

Even though the cool night air would be welcome right now.

When we get out to the back deck, it’s chillier than I was expecting, which must be why Jamie pulls me onto the padded outdoor loveseat with him and puts both blankets over us.

My arm grazes his, and I don’t have to worry about being cold anymore.

Flames burn deep inside me, and for the first time, I wonder if this is a terrible idea.

But then he smiles at me, and it’s so damn earnest, I can’t help but smile back.

“So, how’d you end up here?” he asks between bites of pizza.

I pick at my brownie, savoring every tiny bite.

“I wanted to go to college somewhere in New York that was close-ish to home while still giving me space to explore. SUNY FL has an event management degree, which is better than a lot of places that just have hospitality with a minor in event planning or management. Plus, it’s beautiful here.”

“It definitely is.” But his eyes are on me, not the dark lake in the distance.

“Tell me something about you. Something that doesn’t have to do with baseball,” I say in an attempt to break the tension surrounding us.

“Not baseball? Sorry. Doesn’t compute.”

I bump my elbow against his. “Seriously. What do you do when you’re not playing baseball?”

“Think about baseball?” His eyes dance and he takes another bite of his pizza. After he swallows, he continues. “Seriously, though, sometimes it feels like my life revolves around baseball. I’m not mad about that, but I don’t have many other hobbies. Most of my free time is spent with this bunch of dorks.” We both laugh at that. “And with my family.”

“Tell me about them.”

He shifts on the bench, tucking his legs up and turning so he can look at me. “Well, as you noticed at the event, my parents are disgustingly in love. They prioritize our family and are actively involved in all our lives. My younger siblings are endless chaos. Penny is just hitting the age of being fascinated by romance and love, but she’s also really into everything ‘girl power.’ Her words, not mine. Basically, it’s a lighter version of feminism.”

“I like her already.”

He stares at me for a second, like he’s debating whether to say something. “I think she’d like you too.” He clears his throat. “Uh, Calvin might as well have a stuffed tiger called Hobbes because he’s that wild sometimes. Though he’s also thoughtful and a bit of a science kid. Then Mila is precocious and hilarious and has everyone in the house wrapped around her little finger.”

“They sound adorable.”

He side-eyes me.

“They can be the tiniest terrors. Especially when they work together. But yeah, I love them. My family and baseball are pretty much my entire life.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” It isn’t. I’m not as tight with my family as he seems to be, but I love them. And event planning is a big piece of my life too. Granted, I also love volleyball and play in a rec league every summer. And now this friend group is a huge part of my life too.

“What about you? You told me you were the youngest and said you had older brothers. How many?”

“Two. Josh and Pete. Josh is two years older than me and the most obnoxious human in existence, and if we get along for more than a day at a time, hell might freeze over. Pete is four years older than me and more chill. I drove him crazy when we were little, but now we’re pretty close.”

“Thankfully, I think I’m old enough that I won’t have to deal with any truly obnoxious stuff with my siblings. At least until they’re teens, but hey, I won’t be living at home by then.”

“Are you sure? You never know. You might be in your parents’ basement hosting some podcast about baseball stats while you wax poetic about your missed shot at the majors.”

He puts a hand to his chest. “Ouch. That was just mean. Don’t hit a man where it hurts.”

“Baseball?”

“Exactly.”

“What if I hit you with a baseball?”

“It would probably hurt less.”

“Noted. Your preferred form of torture is having balls thrown at you.”

He chokes on a laugh. “That sounds like the start of a dirty joke.”

“I think once balls are involved, you’re closer to finishing than starting.”

“The event queen has a dirty mind.”

I shrug. “I told you I grew up with older brothers. I learned a lot about sex before I probably should have.”

He snorts at that. “I don’t think there’s a particular age for that, but some ways are probably better than others.”

Something about the way he says that makes it sound like he knows from experience.

“How did you learn about S-E-X? ”

He laughs. “Did my mom ever mention what she does for a living?”

I think back, then realize she never did. “I assumed she worked with your dad. Or stayed home with your siblings.”

“Nope. She’s a sex therapist.”

My eyes fly wide.

“Yep. Which isn’t a bad thing. I grew up in a very sex positive household, but I also learned a lot about sex at a pretty young age. Partially because I”—he makes a face—“accidentally walked in on my parents when I was eight or nine. My mom calmly asked if I needed anything and when I said I didn’t, she asked me to go wait in my room until she came to talk to me. When she did, she sat me down and told me that sex is a natural part of life, that it’s something private between two grown-ups who both agree that’s what they want. Obviously, that was expanded on as I got older. There was never any shame placed on sex. My mom always talked about it in a positive way, though she encouraged me to wait until I could comfortably answer the questions ‘what if the person you were with gave you an STI’ and ‘what if the person you were with ended up pregnant.’ Then she focused on CHIP.”

“California Highway Patrol?”

He shakes his head at my silly joke. “Consent. Honesty. Integrity. Protection.”

“That’s a good acronym.”

“It is. Especially with consent coming first. My mom knows what men’s sports can be like—the kinds of things it can breed and cover up. She wanted to make sure I knew the only thing I’m entitled to use to get off is my own hand.”

A laugh erupts out of me, shaking my whole body. “Please tell me she used those words.”

“Oh, she definitely did. But she’s right. I mean, theoretically, sex toys could be involved too, but you know…”

“Wow. Well that’s about a thousand times more than anything I ever got. My mom told me to always use a condom and to make sure I see it go on. Never trust a man to handle protection. Oh, and if anything bad ever happened to me, to tell her. I think that was when I was eleven. Maybe twelve. Not much to go on. Especially since I knew I was bi in middle school and no one ever gives any education about non-hetero sex or protection.”

His brows lift a little and a soft smile appears on his face. “You’re bi?”

“Yep,” I say confidently. “My first and only relationship—if you could call it that—was with a girl. And I hooked up with both guys and girls in high school and college.”

“Do you lean one way more than the other?”

“Nope. I’m right smack in the middle. Which is really fun actually.” I give him a sly grin. “So many possibilities. Though I will say, so far, my sexual experiences have been better with women. I learned a hell of a lot more from a lesbian with a strap-on than I ever did from any of the guys I hooked up with.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t laugh or scowl at that. He nods in understanding.

“That makes sense. Women know where all the essential parts are and what feels good. Add the strap-on, and all they really have to do is master thrusting to have one up on pretty much any guy. That said, a lot of guys aren’t interested in exploring. That was something else I was encouraged to do. Go slow. Explore. Learn. Don’t jump into fucking just to have an orgasm—that one I’m paraphrasing.”

“That’s a good lesson.” A gust of cold wind hits, making us both shiver. He pulls the blanket up farther and moves a little closer to me, his hand brushing my thigh as he does. For a moment, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. It’s been a long time since I’ve been crushed out like this, and it’s annoyingly inconvenient. I take a deep breath to clear my head, then try to continue the conversation. “How old were you when you first started exploring?”

What a great question to ask the guy I’m crushing on.

“Fifteen. But I was kinda hooked once I did. I didn’t have”—he sighs heavily—“ vaginal intercourse until like a year and a half after that. But once again, it became a preferred activity.” His cheeks turn bright red.

Damn my stupid crush because he is seriously cute when he blushes and looks all earnest. I can’t help but poke his cheek. “It’s kind of adorable when you blush like that.”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I hear that way too often. I hate that I blush. I’m not uncomfortable with the topic or inexperienced, I just hate having any kind of intense attention on me. And if I do, I go from white as a sheet to as red as Clifford in under two seconds.”

My brows dip in. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with Clifford the Big Red Dog being a part of our sex conversation.”

“Animated characters don’t do it for you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve watched some insanely hot anime porn.”

His eyes widen a little and he shakes his head. “I swear, sometimes I truly don’t expect the things that come out of your mouth.”

“I thought you said you weren’t innocent.”

“I said I’m not inexperienced. And I’m not. I’ve watched porn—though I can’t say I’ve watched any anime stuff—but most people don’t casually say it.”

I give a little shrug. “I’d rather let people see the real me and decide if they like it from the start.”

He stares at me for a long moment. “I don’t know how anyone could not.”

“Well, I haven’t had the best luck with friendships. At least not until the hive mind came along.”

He chuckles at that. “They’re definitely good at building strong friendships.”

“How did you end up so close with everyone?”

“Aaron took me under his wing in middle school, and the rest of the guys he was friends with on the team—Joel, Miles, Trevor, their friend Nick, and even Joel’s older brother Jesse—all made an effort to include me. And as that happened, I ended up hanging around them more and got to know the girls too. Plus, my family knows Rae’s mom’s family, so I grew up knowing the Abbotts and McKinleys from the periphery. But as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, once this group claims you, you’re theirs forever.”

“I kind of love that.”

“So do I. They drive me nuts sometimes, but I love them all. And as an introvert, once I got out of elementary school, I struggled with making friends. It was easy to get absorbed in the group.”

“Do you have any friends back home now?”

“Not in my grade really. I have a couple of guys on the baseball team who are cool, and I hang out with them at school, but the few I was friends with when I was young, I avoid as much as possible. Once they realized my family had money, they started taking advantage of that. I’ve always been friendly, but I didn’t like how that felt. Outside of the team, I don’t bother going out of my way to make new friends at this point. I’ll go out with guys from the team sometimes, but never for long. I don’t like spending too much time with random people. I’d rather be with my people.”

“But you’re here with me.”

“I thought we agreed we’re friends now. That means you are one of my people.”

“I like the sound of that.” I almost cringe at the words, but he smiles.

“So do I.” There’s a beat of silence before he continues. “You have any other close friends?”

“Not like this. My neighbor Jace back home is like a sister to me, but that’s it. I used to have a friend group that I thought was great, but…”

“I get it. Looks like we both ended up where we were supposed to.”

I lift my gaze to his. “Yeah. Guess so. I’m sorry you had people take advantage of you. No one deserves that.”

He shrugs. “It is what it is. I get it. Some people grow up valuing things, not people. ”

“Be honest, if you’re ranking things, baseball then people or people then baseball?” I tease.

He laughs. “Baseball is number one, of course.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. You have too big of a heart. I bet you’re a total softie older brother. You probably play games with them and read them bedtime stories.”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. You just stand out to me. It’s easy to see your heart and your character.”

He stares at me for a beat. “Thank you.”

“So that means I’m right?”

He throws his head back. “I may have been playing a silly game with them before I left this morning. Yes, I read them bedtime stories regularly, especially to Mila. I even braid the girls’ hair.”

I blink at him, my heart melting a little at that. He’s a good big brother. Pete might’ve learned that if our age difference had been bigger, but Josh? Never.

“They’re lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have them. I’d give up baseball for my family in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t like it, and I hope I never have to make a choice like that, but I would if I had to, and I’d never look back.”

I slowly shake my head. “Screw anyone who ever tried to take advantage of you. I hope they get exactly what they deserve for not seeing how valuable you are.”

Our eyes meet, tension growing between us.

“I hope you know how valuable you are too.”

Again, he shifts closer, wrapping his arm around my back, and this time when I look up at him, I find those rich blue eyes staring back at me, gleaming with intensity.

Something stirs in my stomach.

What if I’m not the only one with a crush?

The reality is it probably doesn’t matter. He’s still in high school. I’m in college. We’re three hours away from each other for most of the year, and when we’re not, he’ll be focused on baseball while I’ll be focused on growing my business. Sounds like the worst way to start a relationship.

But here in this moment, alone in the dark with him, I let myself believe that’s not true.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m too much for people,” I admit.

“You’re not too much. They just don’t know how to be around someone who takes up space and opens their heart. And they’re missing out. Because the way you care about the people around you is special.”

My breath sticks in my throat, and I have to swallow hard before I can respond.

“How do you see right through me like that?”

He shrugs. “You saw through my mask too.” And then his cheeks are smattered with red again.

I rub my thumb over the warm skin. Then there’s another gust of wind, and I fully give in to the moment, leaning against Jamie and resting my head on his shoulder.

After a long moment of silence, I whisper, “Thank you. For letting me be one of your people. For the record, you’re one of my people now too. I like spending time with you. You’re easy to talk to—easy to be around.”

Easy to fall for.

But I don’t say that.

I barely let myself think it.

Whatever the connection sparking between us is, it can’t go beyond this. It won’t. Our lives are destined to move in different directions, no matter how undeniable the electric thrum beneath my skin is when he’s touching me.

I can experience it, but I don’t get to keep it.

I don’t even know if he feels the same way or if I’m imagining it all.

But alone under this blanket on a chilly night, I absorb his warmth and let myself believe in the sweet little fantasy of Jamie and me being something more.