Page 17 of Caught Stealing

His focus leaves the game and flicks to me, his brows furrowing in noticeable confusion. “Competition?”

“For your love and affection, obviously.” I aim another winning smile his way. “Seems from what happened last week, he’s got one up on me.”

A smile cracks his composure before he lets out a soft laugh. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Highly unlikely.”

He laughs some more, though it’s quickly drowned out by the cheers and screams of the Crown Point fans as King drives them further down the field with yet another first down—this time with a twenty-yard pass to their star receiver.

“Well, shit,” Kason mutters, and when I glance away from the field, I find him frowning. “Guess we have our work cut out for us on this one.”

I’ll say.

“But to answer your original question…” he says, rerouting our conversation, “I dunno how or why Phoe and I became friends in the beginning. We just clicked, even with us being so different. And over time, he became more like family. A brother. My person.”

My brows collide and I turn to look at him, cocking my head to the side. “Your person?”

“You know,Grey’s Anatomy?”

I bark out a laugh and shake my head. “Nah, Kase. Can’t say I do know.”

“Well, for one, you’re missing out because of McSteamy alone.” He offers me a sheepish grin when I look at him like he’s lost all his marbles. “But essentially, it means Phoenix is the person I’d do anything for. Cross oceans, bury bodies, you name it. He calls me for anything, and I’m there.”

Yeah, that’s a little much to do for a best friend. For anyone, really. And if those are the general requirements, then…shit, I feel sorry for Oak. Guess he’s gonna be rotting in jail or stuck in Europe, because I don’t think there’s anyone I’d do those things for.

“And vice versa, I’m assuming?”

“He’s more like family to me than my own, so I’d like to think so,” he says with a laugh. “And he did come here with me for college, so I think it’s safe to say he’d do anything for me too.”

My mind catches on his words, and I frown. “What do you meancame here with you?He’s on the baseball team, so he’s gotta be here on an athletic scholarship just like we are?”

“Oh, he is.” Kason’s green eyes flash from the game back to me. “But he also got one to Foltyn College over in Oregon, which was originally his first choice.”

As it should have been. Besides Vanderbilt and LSU, Foltyn’s baseball program has been on the rise for the past few years. At least, according to Theo, it is.

“But he willingly came here instead?”

He nods. “Yeah, though it took a little convincing.”

Interesting.

Phoenix choosing to follow Kason here over heading to one of the top baseball programs in the country only adds to my assumption that there’s a little more than friendship on his mind. Something he’s been adamant about not being the case, yet all signs point otherwise.

Very interesting, indeed.

Our focus is again brought back to the game when Crown Point’s kicker takes the field. They’re fourth and long now but are in easy field goal range at this point. Not ideal, but I’ll take them scoring three points over six or seven. Our guys line up for the kick, and a rush of adrenaline spikes through me the way it does every time I’m about to take the field.

But my focus wavers momentarily along with my resolve, and my eyes slide back to where Kason said Phoenix was sitting. He’s easy to spot, seeing as no one would be texting away on their phone from the first row at the fifty-yard line.

Or wearing Kason’s away jersey.

For whatever reason, the sight fills me with annoyance and jealousy. The latter is misplaced, I’ll admit, but the feeling is there regardless.

As if feeling his eyes on me, Phoenix’s gaze lifts from his screen to collide with mine.

There’s a niggling feeling in the back of my mind as we lock eyes, and it’s got nothing to do with the pure hatred radiating from him all the way to where I’m standing on the sideline. It’s something else entirely, but I can’t put my finger on what, and it’s driving me mad.

Almost like there’s a piece of the puzzle I’m missing. Some memory I’ve lost or interaction I’ve locked away in the recesses of my mind, yet I can’t quite figure out why I’m getting that feeling in the first place.

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