Page 65 of The One I Left Behind

“Stop smooching and get your ass out here, Noughton.” Brooks laughs and walks toward the field.

“You have to go.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

“You have to go play. Jude will be pissed.”

He holds my gaze. “I don’t care about Jude.” He pulls me to him again as if he needs to make sure I’m in one piece.

I pull back from him. “Get yourself together, Noughton. Go out there and have fun. I want to sit on the sidelines like I used to and say, ‘That’s my man.’”

That earns a deep chuckle, even if his eyes are dark.

I slide out of the truck, knowing it’s the only way he’ll get out.

He finally climbs out and grabs his bag from the back, coming to the front and taking my hand. “I still want to kick his ass.”

“If it helps, I kneed him in the balls.”

He stops and laughs. “That’s my girl.”

I love it when he calls me that.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ben

I leave Gillian on the bleachers and head into the dugout, not sure what Jude has planned for me as far as position and where I’ll hit in the batting order.

I sit on the bench for a bit, processing what Gillian told me. I can’t believe Waylon is Clayton’s father. I always hated that fucker. The worst part is, I can’t even talk to anyone about it because I would never betray her like that.

“I heard a rumor about you today.” Brooks sits next to me.

“Probably not true.”

“You bought some lumber for your house?”

I look at Emmett standing at the fence line and flirting with some girl. Snitch.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” The same hope is in Brooks’s voice that was in Aunt Darla’s when she came by this afternoon.

“I can’t stand waking up to random women in my kitchen and Emmett taking a shit in my bathroom three times a day.”

I don’t divulge that I’m thinking about staying for Gillian. I want her to be the first one to know, and it’s something we have to talk about. Regardless, I want to be prepared for whatever option we decide on, which means I’m using the summer to build my damn house.

I glance at Brooks and notice he’s all decked out with an elbow and ankle guard. I gesture to his protective gear. “Did I miss it when softball turned into an extreme sport?”

“We’re playing Wild Bull. They’re dirty, and you can never be too careful.” He sprawls out, resting his arms on the back of the bench, widening his legs.

“You can’t step out of the way of the pitch?”

“Just watch. When I’m taking you to the hospital for a broken elbow, you’ll understand. I’ll let you borrow my elbow guard after you heal.”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.”

The rest of our team makes their way into the dugout.

“Okay, line up is…” Jude holds his clipboard in front of him like a general. “Same as always, except I’m sliding Ben into fourth. Sorry, Emmett, you’re fifth now.”

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