Page 124 of The Problem with Players

I got off the bed and started for the door.

“Nathan?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Cameron will be okay? Do you think he can get through this?”

“I do. He’s strong. And on the days he can’t be, we’ll make sure to be there in his corner. We’re better together.”

Her smile wasn’t heartbreaking anymore. There was a flash of hope resting against her lips this time. “Okay. Good.”

“And Avery?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever need to pour out your heart again, please pour it onto me.”

37

AVERY

Ilearned a few things about my third Sunday morning when it came to staying at Honey Farms. The first being get up early or be awakened by a loud ass rooster screaming outside your window.

“What the heck is going on?!” Cameron asked as he emerged from Nathan’s bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I stood in the kitchen, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Morning, slugger.” I held the cup out toward him. “You drink coffee?”

“I do today,” he mumbled, taking the mug from me. He picked up the creamer on the countertop and poured some into his coffee. “What’s with the rooster?”

“It’s Sunday Funday on the Farm,” I explained. “Trust me, it’s not as annoying as it sounds. The Pierce family all heads out early as heck to get a round of baseball in on their diamond before going to the garden to pick out vegetables and such for a big brunch. The winner gets to relax as the loser gets to cooking.”

Cameron blankly stared at me before taking a sip of his coffee. “They do this every Sunday?”

“Every third.”

“And the rooster only crows on Sunday mornings at the ass crack of the morning?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s not a rooster,” I started. The back door opened, and in came Nathan, wearing his old baseball uniform. He tossed a ball up and down in his hand. “That’s Coach P.”

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” Nathan shouted, walking over to Cameron. He patted him on the back with triple-shot of espresso type energy. “Are you ready for some baseball?”

“Uh, you can actually take me home—” Cameron started, but Nathan cut that off quickly.

“Nope. You slept over, which means you take part in Sunday festivities. We needed an extra player anyway. So you get to pick. Are you on Team K or Team P?” Nathan asked, gesturing between me and him. “Fair warning, I will be butthurt if you choose Coach K over me.”

Cameron snickered a little. “Sorry, Coach P. I gotta go with my original coach this go-round, seeing how she wasn’t cock-a-doodling in my ear at a crazy hour this morning.”

I beamed with pride over the fact that I was chosen over Nathan.

“Suck on that one, Nathan,” I said, smug as ever.

“Don’t get too cocky about it. You’ll both lose, which means you’ll be cooking a huge brunch for thirty people.”

“Thirty people?!” Cameron gasped. “You have that many people coming over for a baseball game?”

“Not just any game. It’s Sunday Funday on the farm! All my aunts, uncles, and cousins will be here for the game. You might want to go warm up for a while. Avery pulled a muscle during her first game because she didn’t know how seriously we took this sport.”

“Don’t let him get in your head, Cam. We got this one in the bag.”

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