Page 2 of The Last Person (Baker Girls #5)

CHAPTER TWO

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I’m a sucker for seeing the people I love happy.

Getting to see two of my friends get married and the rest of them so damn happy fills my heart.

It’s still a little wild to me that I didn’t know most of them until seven months ago. I met Hardy and our close friend and QB, Mark Abbott, when the Bandits drafted me a couple of years ago, and we became good friends quickly.

Then back in February, Mark went on vacation, met Frannie Baker on the flight, and since then, we’ve all been honorary members of the Baker Girls tribe.

There’s Frannie, her younger sister Hallie, and their older cousin Kennedy, plus some other honorary members—Kennedy’s longtime best friend Devon and their friend Justin.

Kennedy and Devon got married today, and it’s been a beautiful day of love and celebration.

I just wish the happiness in my heart didn’t come with such a deep ache.

At twenty-five, I’m probably too young to feel like I’ll never find love, but at the same time, I’ve never felt my age.

Cue up the classic small town sob story.

My dad died when I was young, so after school, I did odd jobs to help make some extra money or I took care of my little sister so my mom could work double shifts.

I took on responsibilities way above my age range simply because that’s what it seemed like I should do.

I believe in past lives because I know I’m an old soul.

Through high school, I committed to football, knowing I had the potential to go far—and that it would pay for my college. I made it all the way to the pros, and I’ve never felt better than when I bought my mom a house and paid for my sister to go to college, giving them both financial stability.

I like what I do, but unlike most people in professional sports, if you took it away from me tomorrow, I wouldn’t really miss it. It’s a job to me. One I enjoy, but it doesn’t fuel me.

I’d rather be writing or reading. I’d love to have some space to create a beautiful botanical garden. A place for peace and solitude.

I spent the hour after the wedding enjoying the flower gardens and trees in the back of the building.

My energy is a mix of Gandalf and granny hobbies, and I like it that way. If the vibes I bring to the function are calm supportiveness, a listening ear, and a homemade baked good, I’m cool with that.

“Are you sad or feeling introspective?” Hallie asks, coming to sit down next to me.

She’s the youngest of the Baker Girls tribe and pregnant with her first child.

I’m thrilled for her. She was meant to be a mom, with her big heart and fierce personality.

She also has a quieter side. It’s how we bonded.

“Introspective. Happiness and love always take me there.”

She rests one hand on her stomach, smiling brightly. “Love is kind of great.”

I chuckle at that. “Our sweet little Hallie who never thought she’d fall in love.”

“Sometimes life has other plans.”

Her eyes drift across the room at the same time her hand closes over mine. “You should tell him.”

My stomach tightens, and even though I try to stop it, my gaze goes right to him. Ryan Hardison. Hardy. My best friend. The man who would move a mountain for anyone, but for me, would climb that mountain and sit by my side in the swirling snow.

And he has no idea that I’m hopelessly in love with him.

It’s one of life’s little twists that I feel so intensely for him because when I first saw him across the locker room, I wanted nothing to do with him.

He seemed like the loud, life of the party guy—and he is—but I thought he was crass, only cared about partying, and lived a lavish, over-the-top lifestyle.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Hardy is joy personified.

My eyes drag down his body. His black braids are half tied back with a pink hairband Hallie’s boyfriend’s daughter gave him.

A light gray short sleeve button down is pulled tight across his broad shoulders, leaving his muscular arms on full display.

My gaze lingers on his hand as he lifts it.

The soft deep brown skin has touched mine too many times to count.

Always innocently. But the desire it sparks within me each time is indecent.

Then he turns around, drinks in hand, and I get a glimpse of the smile that turns me inside out.

“He’s straight,” I say, looking back at Hallie.

“And no one ever figured out maybe they weren’t at age twenty-four?”

“No, but it’s not”—I run my hand through my hair—“it’s different.

He’s not the one questioning it. Confessing your love to your straight best friend usually doesn’t end up with them saying, ‘Hey, I think I’m probably not straight either, and also, I’m in love with you too.

What a coincidence.’ I’m not going to risk our friendship or potentially screw up our team dynamic. ”

She sighs and shakes her head. “You’re underestimating your importance to him if that’s what you think.” She squeezes my hand, then gets up, kissing Hardy on the cheek as she walks toward her boyfriend, Wilson.

Hardy gives me an up nod, then slides my drink across the table before dropping into the chair closest to me.

It’s always the one that’s closest to me.

Hardy has a thing for physical contact. He told me early on that he’s a hugger because that’s how he grew up—with lots of physical affection.

He’s like that with our entire friend group and is the first one on the team to congratulate someone with a bro-hug, chest bump, or ass slap. Sometimes all three.

With me, he’s always next to me. His arm brushing mine, our knees bumping together, sitting so close it’s like we’re glued together when we’re relaxing on the couch.

I love it. And I hate it. It’s the most delicious taste of what I want with the bitter aftertaste of knowing it’s all I’ll get.

Hardy tilts his head as he looks at me. I’m starting to think I’m slipping when it comes to hiding my feelings. He’s been acting weirder around me lately, and I can’t pinpoint why. Whenever I ask him, he downplays it or I get a bullshit response.

Like last night. Something was on his mind, but he refused to tell me what. That’s not Hardy. He always has something to say and he never shies away from talking about whatever is running through his head whether it’s deep and soul-stirring or the dumbest joke I’ve heard in my life.

“You good, man?”

I grab my drink and take a little sip, letting the burn ground me in the moment. “Yeah. You know me. I like to get lost in my own head. Especially while people-watching.”

“What are you thinking about?”

I nod toward where Kennedy and Devon are dancing. “That. Love. Our friends’ happiness.”

Kennedy looks stunning in her wedding dress, and I’ve never seen her smile brighter. Devon is so utterly gone for her. I want that kind of love.

Then my eyes drift to Frannie and Mark. They’re both smiling as he dips his head down to whisper something to her. She throws her head back, laughing, and his eyes dance as he watches her. I want that kind of love too.

My gaze moves to Justin and his wife Jade.

They had a whirlwind romance that started with a marriage of convenience and grew into an epic love story.

He’s holding her close as they dance, his fingers twisted in her hair as she looks up at him with deep love in her eyes. I want that kind of connection.

And then there’s Hallie. The girl who swore she’d never fall in love, dancing in the arms of her boyfriend, who smashed all the locks guarding her heart. She’s radiating happiness. Wilson leans in and kisses her neck and their love bubbles over. I want that kind of desire.

I want it all. All of that together wrapped up with someone who sees and understands me. My soul cries for it. I’m desperate and probably pathetic. Especially because when I play out that fantasy in my mind, it’s always the man sitting next to me I’m experiencing it with.

“You can have that too,” Hardy whispers, his voice low and genuine, but not nearly as sincere as the look in his eyes. Eyes that bore into me with such intensity that it’s hard to meet them.

He always seems to read my mind when it comes to this topic, or maybe it’s just that I haven’t been subtle about my desire for love. And the comforting side of him that only wants to see someone he cares for happy always comes out to reassure me.

If only he knew that it’s hard to believe that. Because I only want it with him.

I’m bi, and I’ve known that from a young age, so I should have the world open to me—I do. But it doesn’t matter what my options are when he’s all I want.

Is it even possible to have Hardy as my best friend and meet someone else? Could I ever move on from him? Do I want to?

Fuck it all. I can’t answer any of those questions tonight, and I don’t want to.

“Thanks.” I nod in his direction, then take another sip of my drink.

An upbeat pop song starts playing and Hardy claps his hands. “That’s it. Time to dance.”

This is our dynamic. I ground him in peace. He draws out my playful side. We’re a perfect balance.

I look at his ridiculous, cheesy smile, and I smile too.

“Okay, why not?”

He pumps his fist in the air. “Yes. Let’s go.”

He’s out of his chair in half a second, and I watch him for a beat before getting up and following him.

Maybe all I’ll ever have is this, and maybe that’s enough. There’s a delicate beauty in unrequited love, and for now, I’m going to bask in it.