Page 8 of Double Play

“He likes you. He just doesn’t really do emotions well. And it takes him a while to warm up to people.”

I huff an incredulous laugh. “I’ve known him for years and he’s barely spoken to me. I think I just need to keep my distance until I can get out of your hair and into a place of my own. I don’t want to disturb your routine or make him feel like his privacy isn’t respected.”

“Arden, look at me,” he says, dropping his hands. I twist myself so I’m sitting forward on the couch, turning my head to face him. “I’m telling you, we like having you here. Hawk has a lot going on in his head all the time, and he gets nervous letting people in. It’s not you—shit, it’s not evenhim. He wasn’t given a very good start, and he’s lost a lot, which is why he doesn’t let anyone get too close.” His eyes soften and his lips press together. “Just keep trying with him, okay? He deserves that.”

My heart squeezes in my chest. Not only for Jackson and how much of a gift his friendship is to both of us, but also for Hawk and whatever happened that makes him feel like he can’t open up to anyone. I’m glad he has Jacks, but that shouldn’t be where his support system ends.

“Okay,” I reply with an understanding nod. He nudges my shoulder with his and I return the gesture, barely able to move his six-foot-one, bulky frame. He smirks, the dimple on his cheek sinking in and making him look even more boyishly adorable. My mind floats back to the days when our friendship was easy and fun, and all I can think about is how I want that again. Being here is the perfect opportunity to close the distance that was created when we graduated and went our separate ways to achieve our dreams—which, coincidentally, are the same things that brought us back together here in Florida. It feels like a full-circle moment. Now that we’re older and know where our lives are headed, we can focus on us.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, putting an arm around my shoulder and hugging me to his side. I bring my knees up, curling into a ball before leaning into him. The comfort is nice, especially after such a rough day at practice and the mini roller coaster ride my anxiety just took me on with Hawk.

“Me too,” I reply with a yawn just as the door clicks shut and the sound of Hawk’s footsteps trail from the entryway to the kitchen behind us. My stomach clenches in hunger, and all I can think about is eating and falling asleep while I pretend to watch the movies they picked out. As much as I want to have roommate bonding time, I’m beat and can’t imagine I’ll make it very long before I pass out on the couch.

“Come on,” Jackson says, standing and turning to extend his hand for me to take. I notice that he’s babying his right leg just slightly, and I remember what he said earlier about being injured.

I grasp his hand, pushing myself off the cushions so he isn’t bearing any of my weight. “You alright?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “I pulled my hamstring a little bit. I’ll be fine. I’ll rest it for a couple days, and I’ll be good to go. But I bet it would make me feel better faster if you did all my laundry.”

I scrunch my face in faux disgust, slapping his shoulder. “Not a fucking chance. I know how bad your gym clothes smelled in high school. I can only imagine how awful they are now that you’re a grown-up.”

His jaw drops before a devious grin stretches across his face, and he darts a hand out, wrapping it around my wrist and yanking me toward him before putting me in a headlock. I scream playfully as he laughs, trying my best to wiggle away, but it’s futile. It’s not so tight that I can’t breathe, but I’m definitely not going anywhere on my own, instead moving beside him as he leads me to the kitchen.

“Still a smart ass,” he says, ruffling my hair before he loosens his hold and lets me go. Standing, I slap him again, and turn to see Hawk staring at us like he’s utterly confused by what he’s witnessing. I smile softly, and he shocks me by returning the gesture, reaching for a plate and setting a slice of mushroom and sausage pizza on it before handing it to me.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, admiring his gorgeous features as I take it from his hand. His chiseled jawline ticks slightly under my gaze, but he keeps his blue eyes on me until I’m able to look away. Just like the last time we were in this kitchen together, I’m left wishing for more, but I know he has to give it willingly. And I’ll be so grateful if he ever does.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, turning and getting his own food ready next to where Jacks is standing with a mountain of pizza on his plate. I roll my eyes playfully, because apparently some things never change. He may be built and have an eight-pack of abs, but the man eats like shit. He always has, and it’s obviously never going to catch up with him.

“Don’t judge me, Princess,” he says, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. “I’m injured and need greasy food to get better—and some cuddles probably wouldn’t hurt. You two are just going to have to fight over who gets to do that.”

“Your best friend or your stepsister,” Hawk says, raising an eyebrow. “Either way, it’s weird. You’re on your own this time, right Hellcat?”

I suck a breath through my teeth. “Yeah, I’m all set on the brother cuddles. Thanks for the pizza, though.”

“Fuck the both of you,” he says sarcastically, limping out of the room with his plate in hand. I look over to Hawk, who I swear shoots me a wink before following suit, leaving me to wonder if maybe Icanfit in with them after all.

SEVEN

HAWK

I lie awake,staring at the ceiling above my bed. I came upstairs as soon as I looked over and found that Jackson and Arden had fallen asleep on the couch, thinking I’d be more comfortable in here, but I’ve been tossing and turning the whole time.

After our talk at the stadium, I came home with an entirely different outlook on having Arden here. Jackson was right; neither of us has been putting forth enough effort to make her feel welcome—most of all, me. After I stormed out of the kitchen on her first night here, I didn’t know how I should act. I was embarrassed by my reaction, but even with all the therapy I’ve received since I was a teenager, I’m still not the best at expressing my emotions. I guess I’ll always be a work in progress when it comes to that.

My plan for the evening was to spend time with the two of them and try to stay out of my own head. It was going great until he suggested I carry her to the couch. As soon as I touched her, I felt a need like I’d never experienced before. It was like that first night when she brought me to her bathroom and traced her fingertips along my jaw, but much more intense. What should’ve been an innocent, playful moment turned into me pulling her close. Breathing her in. Saying the nickname I gave her in my head when I realized how fierce she is under that sweet exterior, out loud. As much as I tried to shake it off—to get used to this new normal of being okay with being near her—fuck. I wanted more. So much more that I had to leave the room to remind myself that no matter how strong of a pull there is, she can never be mine. It’s something I’ve been fighting since the moment I met her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hawk,” Slade said, clasping his hand around mine in a firm shake. “I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied awkwardly. It was my first time meeting Jackson’s family, and although he told me how cool they were, I was always nervous around new people. Normally, I would’ve already retreated to the guest room in an effort to avoid answering the usual questions I expected in these situations, but these were my best friend’s parents, and they’d opened their home to me for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn’t want to be rude.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d celebrated the holiday, let alone with a home-cooked meal and people who truly enjoyed being around each other. Then again, it had been years since I’d had anything besides baseball to be thankful for. Contact with my brothers had been completely cut off, and my mother’s intense rehab didn’t allow for visitation yet, even if I was ready to forgive her for everything her addiction had done to me—which, I wasn’t.

“Why don’t you boys take your luggage upstairs and meet me back down here? Gina and Arden should be back from the grocery store any minute, then we can all catch up.” I’d met Jackson’s mom briefly via video chat, but his stepsister would be another first introduction. He’d told me a lot about her—how they were really close throughout their younger years but grew apart when he was drafted, and she’d gone off to play volleyball at Penn State. I swear, sometimes the look in his eyes when he talked about her was the same one I’d seen in my own reflection whenever thoughts of my brothers would enter my mind. It was almost as though he’d suffered a loss of his own, only she was still right here.

We made our way to the rooms we’d be staying in, and even though every instinct in my body was telling me to make up an excuse to stay put and be alone, I fought the urge. These people were important to Jacks, and I wanted to learn more about them. It was only a few days, and it’s not like I’d be forced to tell them my depressing life story. I’d gotten pretty good at deflecting personal questions and was planning on using those tactics all weekend long. Just thethoughtof letting anyone see the parts of myself I tried so hard to hide made my stomach turn and my body tighten with anxiety.

Reluctantly, I stepped out of the room, padding down the staircase and following my best friend’s voice as it led me to the kitchen. I rounded the corner, stopping in my tracks as I watched the scene in front of me unfold like it was happening on a movie screen.

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