Page 27 of Phillip

Phillip cut his gaze down the lane and took another gulp from his water bottle.

“I doubt you would’ve answered anyway.”

He capped the bottle. “Then why are you here?”

Devlin rested the bat over his shoulder. “We gave you grief over the accident and Ashley.”

“I was there, but thanks for the reminder.”

“No one’s brought up the Ferrari, huh?”

Phillip gave a hard glare to his cousin, which failed to force a subject change, then shrugged. “Huh is right.”

“We know that car—”

He held up his hand. “No one knows anything about that car.”

The corner of Devlin’s eyes tightened. “Uncle Mark—”

“Today’s not the day to talk about my dad. Okay?”

Devlin rolled his lips together and backed against the lane partition. “Have you ever noticed that we’re more alike than not?”

Phillip rubbed the back of his neck. He’d come to the cages to let go of tension, only to have it multiply. “We’re all alike.”

“Ha.” Devlin grinned. “Now I know you’re saying whatever to get me to leave.”

Phillip chuckled. “Okay. Me and Brock? Nothing alike.”

“Me and Jason?” Devlin mimicked a phone to his ear. “Not always alike. But you and me? We aren’t working out of the corporate headquarters.”

“I’d lose my mind.”

“I almost did.” Devlin laughed. “But I found my place on the water.”

“Like I did with the camp.”

“Dedicating your life to nonprofit work says a lot.”

“Yeah, it says that I don’t fit in the family mold.” Phillip meant to sound angry, but he was exhausted. He leaned against the lane partition next to his cousin, and thankfully, Devlin let the conversation die.

Phillip watched the remaining low-hanging clouds, letting his thoughts drift from Ashley to the Ferrari. Both made his throat dry. He swiped the water bottle, knowing it wouldn’t help, but guzzled the last few ounces anyway.

Devlin watched him finish the water and toss the bottle onto his gear bag. “You can tell her no.”

“The Ferrari?” Phillip shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Really?”

“It’s just a car.”

“Yeah.” Devlin snorted. “Like we drink any old whisky—you’re out here beating the hell out of baseballs for no reason.”

“Not over the car.”

Devlin lifted his eyebrow. “Over Ashley?”

Yes—but no. “Over…” He shrugged. “Not doing what I should when I’m supposed to.”

---