Page 9 of Double Play

“Oh my God, you’re here!” a stunning brunette said, dropping the bags of groceries that had been hanging from her fingers and running across the room. A wide smile bloomed across Jackson’s face, and he opened his arms, catching her as she launched herself and wrapped him into the tightest hug I had ever seen.

“Hey, Princess,” he sighed, tightening the embrace as his eyes fell shut. He inhaled deeply like he was trying to memorize her scent, and that’s when all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The way he spoke about her as if he had suffered a devastating loss. The constant subject changes when I asked why he didn’t visit home more often. And the look of pure longing that was painted across his face as he held her in his arms, not realizing I had witnessed the entire thing.

He had feelings for her—ones that were stronger than it seemed he was ready to admit.

She pulled away, and their gazes found each other, lingering for just a moment too long before he quickly broke the connection, returning her to her feet and clearing his throat awkwardly. He looked around the room, relief flooding his entire body as he motioned for me to come closer. I swallowed nervously, doing my best to pretend I hadn’t noticed the way he held her as I headed in their direction.

“Arden, this is Hawk Mason. Hawk, this is my…stepsister, Arden Levine.” The title came out forced, like he hated the thought of it, and he stepped back so I could reach out to shake her hand. As soon as her palm slid into mine, her captivating brown eyes burning right through me, warmth traveled throughout my body. I wanted to look away—to deny the unexplainable way I felt as if I was being pulled to her like a magnet, but I was frozen. Her head tilted shyly, smiling as she broke the silence.

“Hello, Hawk. It’s nice to meet you.” My name sounded like a song falling from her lips, and I’d never wished for temporary hearing and vision loss more than I had right then—because in that moment, I fully understood why he struggled with the fact that he couldn’t have her. Not only was she beautiful, but the air around her was warm and inviting, making me wish I was the type of person who had something to offer to a conversation just so I could keep her talking. I wanted to know her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t want to run away. Instead, I had the most intense craving to let her know me, too. But that couldn’t happen, especially now that I’d seen with my own two eyes what she meant to him, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

I had to keep my distance from her, no matter what.

“Hi,” I grunted quietly, yanking my hand from her grip and shoving it into my pocket. Her face fell, and her eyes darted around the room, clearly uncomfortable by my short response. It felt wrong, and I wanted to apologize for being rude, but it was better this way. If I could keep her at a distance, I’d never have to face the feeling of wanting something I couldn’t have.

“Damn it,” I groan, dragging my hands down my face in an attempt to clear the fog from my brain. Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed before slowly pushing to stand. I’m obviously not going to get any sleep with my mind racing a million miles a minute, so I may as well give up on that. I check my phone and see that it’s after three in the morning, so I guess I can make myself a protein shake and head out for a run once I’m ready. It sure beats lying in bed thinking about how badly I want to touch my best friend’s stepsister, who he’s secretly in love with.

Padding toward the stairs, I approach the end of the hallway that leads to both of their rooms, noticing that Jackson’s door is closed while Arden’s is wide open. They were both out cold when I left to go to my room, so I don’t know if or when either of them made it upstairs. I quietly make my way down to the first floor, and I can tell immediately that the TV is still on by the soft glow that’s blanketing the living area. From this angle, I can also see that the end of the large sectional where Jackson fell asleep is empty, a crumpled-up blanket draped over the back as though he tossed it there before leaving.

As light-footed as I can be, I move closer, peeking over the other end of the couch. Sure enough, Arden is sprawled out, looking all kinds of uncomfortable as she snores softly. She’s on her back with one leg hanging over the edge, her foot dangling, but not reaching the carpet below. One hand is on her stomach, and the other is resting on the armrest above her head. Her neck is bent at an awkward angle, and the skin between her brows is scrunched as if she isn’t sleeping peacefully. She said she was sore when she came home, and this will only make it worse. If I don’t wake her and make sure she gets to bed, she’ll have an even harder time tomorrow.

I quietly step in front of her, leaning down and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Arden,” I whisper, hoping she’s a light sleeper, but she doesn’t stir. “Arden, wake up,” I try again, and this time she moves, but then settles back in with her neck even more hunched than it was before. On instinct, I slide my hand under her cheek, tilting it so she’s in a more comfortable position. She nuzzles into me, and I let out a pained exhale because I know what I need to do since she’s not waking up on her own.

I gently grasp the wrist above her head, bringing it down to join the other on her belly before easing under and lifting her exhausted body into my arms. She sighs but never wakes up as I carry her toward the stairs, taking them as gracefully as possible so she stays asleep. Heat radiates from my chest, and she melts into me, making me suck in a shaky breath because I hate how good it feels. Just like earlier, I have her pulled close, but it’s not enough. I want more.

I fight the baffling thought, making my way to the landing and through her door, stopping when my thighs hit the side of her bed. I steal a quick inhale of her sweet scent one last time before bending down and laying her on the soft mattress. She whimpers so quietly that I almost don’t hear it, yet she doesn’t rouse as I go to back away. Only I don’t get far when I realize that both of her hands are clutching the fabric of my t-shirt.

“Fuck. Arden,” I whisper, trying to pull away slowly, but this girl has to be the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever met, because even with a death grip on me, she’s still out cold. With no other choice but to yank it out of her fists—which I’m not doing because I refuse to wake her when she’s this tired—I lift her up, sit on the bed, and lean back against the pillow with her in my lap. She settles as my heart pounds so heavily in my chest that I can’t believe she’s still asleep with the way it’s thudding against her ear. There are so many reasons I shouldn’t be doing this, yet I can’t seem to rip myself away. She’s soft and warm, and her hair smells like heaven. The fact that she’s oblivious to the way I’m soaking it all in makes it even worse, because if she were awake, would shewantme touching her? Would she be okay with how close we are? Or would she push me away? I can’t find a single fuck to give right now, though. Not with the way I feel calm—truly at peace—with her tucked into my body. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve experienced anything even close to this.

It isn’t long before her grip loosens, and my shirt falls from her fingers. As much as I want to stay here with her for as long as I can, I know it’s only a matter of time before she wakes up. I need to slip out of here unnoticed. Hopefully, she ends up thinking that Jackson brought her to her room, or that she got up here by herself and just doesn’t remember. I’m sure the last thing on her mind will be that I was the one who carried her, especially given how I’ve been so cold for the past few weeks.

If I was smart, I’d keep that up. Holding her against me right now just solidifies what I already knew. I feel something for Arden. I have since the first time I met her, and although it was just an afterthought back then, having her in my arms is making me realize that the closer she is, the more I want to know what draws me to her.

I turn slowly, sliding her off of me and making sure her neck and head are comfortable before settling my feet on the floor and looking around for a blanket. I find a heavy throw draped across the bottom of the bed, pull it over her, and slowly back away, taking in her beautiful face for a few more moments. I wish I had the courage to really dig into my emotions and examine the feelings I have when I’m around her. But what good would that do, anyway? It’s not like I can tell her and ask if she could ever see herself wanting to get to know each other on a deeper level. I’m far too broken for that. She’d take one look inside my dark soul and run the other way. She deserves someone like Jacks, who isn’t afraid to be himself and show his heart to the people he cares about. Part of me almost wishes he’d just man up and tell her that he’s been obsessed with her since they were kids, instead of this bullshit where he pretends like it never happened. She may be oblivious to it, but I see the way he looks at her when he thinks nobody’s watching.

Either way, we’re both feeling things we shouldn’t, and I need to work on my own shit so I don’t end up hurting anyone. I know I wouldn’t survive losing Jackson…but the unexplainable connection I have to Arden is getting harder and harder to fight.

EIGHT

ARDEN

“Serve’s up!”I yell as one of our backup hitters sends the ball over the net. We’re scrimmaging against our second-string players, although they’re not playing like that’s what they are. They won the first set, twenty-five to seventeen, and now we’re struggling to keep up. You’d think that after almost two months of playing together, we’d be falling into a rhythm. However, with so many strong personalities from all over the world who’ve played at different levels, we’re still working out the kinks. Most days are good, but today isn’t one of them. The passing has been messy, there’s been some minor miscommunication with my set signals, and hits are going out of bounds. Players are running into each other while switching positions—it’s just beenrough.

The serve goes to Zara, and she puts it up in the air, a loud smack echoing through the court as the ball bounces off her arms. It’s right over my head and tight to the net, which makes it the perfect pass. My left outside hitter, Alaina Reeves, is ready and waiting, but I see a big opening in the middle of the floor that the other team has left unguarded, so I decide to change the plan to ensure we get the side-out.

I call for the four set, which is a high one to Alaina, but instead, I wait until the ball is almost at my fingertips before launching myself up and using my right hand to tip it directly into the large, vacant space behind the blockers. Their back row catches on a little too late, diving for it but missing as it bounces off the floor.

“Yes!” I shout as my teammates run in to celebrate, returning high fives and smiles. Everyone is cheering loudly, a new fire lit under us to close the two-point deficit we’re currently working with as the ball rolls under the net for us to serve.

“Levine!” Dahlia screams, blowing her whistle loudly as she storms onto the court. “Want to explain to me why you dumped the ball instead of setting Alaina while she’s hot?” She’s been on my ass all day, stopping the plays to point out what I’m doing wrong, when that’s not the case at all. Just because I’m not doing things exactly her way doesn’t mean they aren’t working.

“There was a hole,” I reply, trying not to show how fucking annoyed I am. I know she’s my coach and I need to treat her with respect, but I swear she has it out for me. The team voted me captain last month because I’m a good leader and I know this game like the back of my hand. I just wish she’d let me run things the way I need to in the middle of a play. “I got the point. Why does it matter how it happened?”

Her eyes go wide and her nostrils flare as she steps closer, lowering her voice so the rest of the team, who’ve stopped cheering and are standing wordlessly while watching the exchange, can’t hear. “Watch your fucking mouth, Arden. You may think you call the shots inside these lines, but you’re wrong. Either you run the plays the way I tell you to, or your ass will be on a plane back to Pennsylvania.” A devious smile curves her lips and she lowers her voice even more. “The owner and general manager may see something in you, but you aren’t fooling me. You’re expendable, and I have no problem benching you if you don’t get your shit together. Understood?”

I swallow, nodding as I feel my cheeks heat. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I can feel the anxiety as it snakes its way through my body, slowly beginning to wrap itself around my lungs. I need to stay calm, but it’s hard when her threat hit as hard as it did. Volleyball is my life. It’s where I feel the most at home. Playing at a professional level is something I’ve dreamed of since the first time I touched the court, and the pressure to be perfect so it doesn’t get taken away from me is almost more than I can handle at times. I felt the same way in Argentina, but even though I did everything I could, I still failed. Ican’tlose this again.

“Good. Now show me that drafting you wasn’t a fucking mistake.” She flips her long dark hair over her shoulder and struts back to the sideline as I try to pull myself away from the edge of the panic attack that’s threatening to suck me in. I can’t do that here—not in front of my team. Not in front ofher. I need to put on my mask and pretend I’m okay until I get home. Then I can break down and feel my emotions alone where nobody else can see, just like I always do.

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