Page 104 of Honey Pot

Julien practically growled, his grip tightening on her side.

She shook her head but smiled at me, clearly amused with my nonsense, and it filled my chest with heat just knowing that she was entertained.

He’d have to work harder than that.

I could tell by the sparkle in her eye. Clementine was still mine.

Grabbing a sweater from the hook by the back door, I slipped it over my head and wandered out onto the deck. It was misting, but the rain felt good on my hot skin as I made my way down to the diamond and made sure everything was ready for the parents and players game we ran every year. I swiped a bat fromthe shed and tossed a ball in the air, swinging as hard as I could; letting the pain from my shoulder wash out all the jealous thoughts that plagued me.

It was better than letting them eat away at me.

For a man I just met, I had never hated anyone more.

And for Dad to bring him here, to rub that in my face… I wasn’t sure what he was playing at, but it wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t let him blow up my happiness for a second time. I couldn’t. It would kill me. I hit the ball over and over again until my shoulder screamed at me to stop.

“Fuck!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and threw the bat as hard as I could against the backstop. The light rain plastered my hair to my forehead and dripped from my nose as I sank on my haunches and caught my breath.

Dig deeper, Honeybug. Something else is eating at you.

The itch clawed between my shoulder blades, begging me to give in.

“You alright, Kitten?” Arlo called from behind me. His dark hair was damp and his tank top was clinging to his chest.

I looked over my shoulder at him, the build up of water dripping into my eyes as I found him leaning against one of the dugouts with his arms crossed. I contemplated lying to him, telling him that I was fine just so he wouldn’t come down on me with his older-brother-bullshit, but he stared right through my thoughts.

“No,” I said, defeated, and used my hands on my thighs to shove off the ground. “But I’m not—”

“Bad?” He finished for me as I got closer and nodded. Arlo watched me with dark eyes. Concern flickering behind them as he evaluated the situation. “Do you need to go home?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I can manage.”

“Ah. You out here pushing your shoulder to extremes and screaming in the rain suggests otherwise.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Healthy outlet.”

“Until it’s not.” Arlo scowled.

“I promise if I can’t, you can drive me back to Harbor.” I tapped my fingers to my chest, my shoulder protesting from the movement, but I couldn’t let him win every aspect of the argument.

I could tell he wasn’t convinced even as we walked back up to the cabin, and he poured more coffee for me and one for himself. Everyone had gotten up and, one by one, were greeted in the kitchen by our new guest. Arlo and Silas nearly died drinking their coffees when Julien introduced himself to them without prompt. He just sat down at their table like they were old friends. The only thing breaking me free of the tightly twisted frustration was Ella removing the knife and the fork from his vicinity.

Once the dishes were done and the awkwardness faded away, whatever family wanted to play baseball flooded down the path to the diamond. The rest either spent the day locked away from the chill of the mid-November air or bundled up in the bleachers, ready to watch us all.

“That’s him?” Van tied his shoes beside me on the bench.

Julien hung around Clementine in a constant, half-assed piggy-back formation, and it looked uncomfortable. The rain had stopped but the field was still soft and the game today would get messy. Everyone was in long pants and hoodies to shield themselves from the chilly air. I tugged a beanie down over my hair to keep my ears warm, leaning against the fence with my back to the love birds.

“Oh my God.” Ella slapped Zoey playfully on the other side of Van. “Do you know who he looks like? It’s been bothering me all morning.”

Zoey looked from her own shoes to the diamond and narrowed her eyes as her head cocked to the side. “Scott Eastwood?” She said, “Just brunet.”

“No!” Ella laughed. “Wait until he does the thing with his lip,” she said, and everyone leaned forward to watch him like he was an animal in the zoo. “Right there! Do you see it?”

Zoey giggled, “Oh fuck, that’s why you’re so wound up. He looks like a dollar-store version of Miles Teller.”

She nearly fell from the bench laughing as the rest of us surveyed Clem’s ex-fiance from a distance. Dean’s fingers were wrapped in the dugout fence, turning back to look at us with his brows knitted together.

“I didn’t think the man could get uglier… but here we are.” Ella scowled and it flooded me with a playfulness I had been forgetting about all morning.

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