Page 1 of Double Play

PROLOGUE

ARDEN

“With the thirty-sixthpick of the inaugural Pro Volleyball Federation draft, the Florida Flare select Arden Levine, setter, Penn State.”

As soon as the words are out of the commissioner’s mouth, my whole body freezes. Cheers from my dad, stepmom, and best friend Stella fill the air around me, but they’re drowned out by the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest.

When I got the call about a new professional volleyball league that was taking over North America, a fire that I thought had burned out within me stoked back to life. I never dreamed that I’d get another shot at playing again—especially not on this big of a stage. But here I am, a member of Florida’s first major league women’s team.

“Go!” Stella says, practically pulling me up from where I’m sitting like a statue in my chair. “Get up there!”

I shake my head rapidly, clearing the fog before standing to my feet and smoothing down the front of my black body-con dress. My legs shake with every step, so I focus on not tripping in my six-inch stilettos as I make my way to the stage. At five foot seven, I’m well under the average height for my position, so I chose the tallest shoes in my closet for tonight. The last thing I need is for everyone watching ESPN to wonder who let an actual child onto a team full of Amazons.

Carefully taking the stairs one at a time, I walk to the podium, where the league commissioner stands next to Dahlia Owens, my new head coach. She’s only a few years older than me and a former college teammate, so it’ll be a strange dynamic at first. But I’m determined to show her that she made the right choice by drafting me to the Flare.

“Congratulations,” the commissioner says, shaking my hand before offering the purple and blue jersey that’s clutched in his fist. I take it, holding it up in front of me as a wide smile blooms across my face.

Holy fucking shit. I’m a professional volleyball player.

The rest of the ceremony is a blur as my mind begins to strategize. We ended up with two powerhouse outside hitters and a rookie libero who shows so much potential that I can’t help but get excited. All ten teams in the league came into today with clean slates, so only time will tell how the upcoming season will pan out.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” my dad says, pulling me into his arms for a hug as soon as they find me in the crowd. “You’re the real deal now.” He steps back, allowing Stella room to wrap me in a tight embrace.

“It’s true. My bestie is about to be famous. I can’t wait to see your spandex-covered ass on my big screen every weekend.”

I roll my eyes. “You guys said that last year.” When I signed with a semi-pro team in Argentina last March, I was ecstatic to get back on the court. Unfortunately, volleyball players make next to nothing there, and it was impossible to juggle practice and work full-time in order to pay my monthly bills. I have a college degree, but my Spanish is subpar at best, so job options were limited andverylow-paying. I ended up having no choice but to step away and return to Pennsylvania before we even had our first game. It broke my heart, and I’ve felt like a piece of me has been missing ever since.

“Well, I mean it this time,” my dad replies with a wink. I can’t help the smile that breaks free at the sight of the proud look that’s painted across his face. My father has always been my biggest fan. From the first time I touched a volleyball, he’s been by my side, making sure I had every opportunity to go as far as the game could take me. He spent countless hours working overtime just so I could attend private lessons and play for the most prestigious—and expensive—club teams. He’d sleep in his car outside the arena between matches, never missing a single set, no matter how exhausted he was. I owe him everything, and I just want to continue to make him proud.

“I agree,” my stepmom Gina says, nudging my shoulder with hers. “I have a great feeling about this one. I’ve done a lot of research on the PVF, and it looks like they’ve got a pretty good plan. They already have a contract with ESPN to broadcast games, some pretty big sponsors have signed on, and their league minimum is almost double what you were making in Argentina. I’m sure we’ll be able to negotiate for more after the first season is in the books.”

“I hope so,” I reply. When Gina and my dad got married right before my senior year of high school, I was excited to have a strong female presence in my life, which I never really got from my own mother. After my parents divorced, she accepted a job overseas and was all too happy to let me stay behind with my dad. We were great on our own, but Gina was a welcome addition as I attempted to navigate teenage girlhood. She immediately stepped in to help me with college preparations, since she played for Penn State too, and I was grateful to have someone in my corner who had already been through the experience. Her career ended with an unfortunate ankle injury, but as soon as I knew I’d need an agent that I could trust to get me started in the pros, it wasn’t even a question that I’d pick her. I’m her only client, but her son plays in the MLB, so she has connections and has been working around the clock to learn everything she can about contracts and branding. With her very low fee of absolutely nothing, she’s about the only person within my budget at the moment—not that I’d pick anyone else even if I had millions. Nobody has my best interest at heart more than she does.

“I still don’t know how I’m going to afford to move to Florida until I sign my contract,” I say, my teeth digging into my lower lip. Being in Argentina while still paying bills in America left me with almost nothing in my savings, and I’ve been playing catch-up ever since.

She looks at me, and I can tell by her expression that she’s been plotting. “I think I have an idea, but I don’t know if you’re going to like it.” My brows pull in, but she stops me before I can fire any questions her way. “The Flare practice facility is only thirty minutes outside of Daytona. Jackson and Hawk just bought a five-bedroom, six-bathroom condo on the beach, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having you stay with them until you can get into a place of your own.”

My eyes widen, and I shake my head, anxiety flowing through my veins. “I don’t know, Gina,” I reply on an exhale. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. You and Jacks have known each other since elementary school, and Hawk is practically family. It’s not like you’d be a stranger.”

I shrug. “I barely know Hawk. He’s spoken like, ten words to me over the last five years. For all I know, he hates me.”

“Who could ever hate you?” Stella pipes in. “You’re a goddamn delight.”

“Let me call Jacks,” Gina says. “I’ll bring it up to him and see what he thinks. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Fine.

Living with my stepbrother and his grumpy, yet undeniably hot-as-fuck best friend is going to be anything butfine.

ONE

JACKSON

I pullup to the curb, throwing Hawk’s truck that I borrowed for the day into park. Traffic at the airport is usually a mess, but thankfully, I think I can get away with hanging in the white zone until Arden comes out. I got a notification that her flight landed on time, so she should be walking out of the doors as soon as she has her bags.

Blowing out a breath, I tap my thumbs on the steering wheel, fidgeting nervously. When I agreed to let my stepsister stay in one of the extra rooms of the condo I share with my best friend, I’ll admit I was reluctant. Our history is complicated, even if I’m the only one who really knows the full extent of it, while she’s stayed completely oblivious. And now that we’ll be living under the same roof again, I don’t know how I feel about it.

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