Page 4 of Honeysuckle
“You’re an asshole.” I whirled on Silas, who stood with his bag slung over his shoulder with his hands in his pockets.
His expression remained pensive as I got in his face.
“I didn’t make this list!” I shoved it at him, but he continued to stare at me. “There’s no way I’m spending two weeks in a bunk with Josh.”
“You know the rules, Tucker,” Silas said simply and without emotion. “Where else did you want to put him? You’re the tamest of all the wolves he’s about to face. Keep him close. Take these two weeks to figure out who he is and where he fits in on the team.”
“He doesn’t. That’s the problem.” I sighed. Frustration itched beneath my skin, and the cool spring wind snaked its way through my sweatshirt, sending a chill down my spine.
“Everyone who comes to Harbor has a place,” Silas said, stepping forward and touching my shoulder. “We were all Josh at one point, just looking for someone to extend a hand to us.”
“He’s an entitled egomaniac,” I retorted.
Silas’s eyebrow rose. “You know what people see when they look at you?”
“An idiot all-star first baseman with a heart of gold and great hair,” I said without skipping a beat, and Silas nodded in agreement.
“Exactly,” he said, “but who are you really?”
I stared at him, unable to answer because it was the one question I had never been able to answer. Without those assumptions, I didn’t know who I was. I was who my parents wanted me to be, who the team wanted me to be, but…I had never stopped to think aboutwhoIwanted to be.
“Some people put on a show to protect themselves,” Silas explained. “You should know that better than anyone, golden boy.” His fingers dug into my muscles as he used the name the fans called me. I could hear them chanting it in the wind. “Everyone else here is allowed to hate him. As the captain, you can’t afford to. You need to figure out what makes him tick. Dig deeper and find out where he fits on the Hornets.”
Not a single player wanted him here.
Not even me.
But Silas was right, and I hated it.
“Yeah, you’re right…” I admitted with a small nod and slapped a hand to his side with a good tap. “Thanks, Doc.”
“What am I good for if not some unsolicited wisdom, Tucker?” Silas stepped back and tapped two fingers to his chest softly. “I’ll collect some hands to help with dinner,” he called out as he approached one of the cabins.
I looked around at the camp. On one side, cabins lined the path back into the densely forested area, and on the other side, the dining hall faced the lake. It was a massive building lined with windows and decorated with camp history. Despite the stress ball knotted between my shoulder blades, this was my favorite place to be.
It smelled like evergreen trees and lake water.
I closed my eyes and listened to the soft squawking of ducks in the distance as they floated on the undisturbed lake. Every single part of me was ready to start the season. It was the only other place I felt comfortable in my own skin. It was the opposite of being on the diamond—buzzing lights, roaring crowds, pressure to win.
The camp was quiet, without a single eye on us.
We could be a team here, a family.
I looked to my cabin, where Cael stood on the steps talking to Silas. Josh’s frame occupied the doorway as he wandered inside and threw his bag on the closest bed. He looked different when no one was watching—like the hardened, egotistical parts melted away and left nothing more than just another guy looking to find his footing.
After a few minutes of calm conversation, Cael and Silas wandered off toward the dining hall, leaving Josh in the cabin alone, giving me the perfect chance to try to smooth things over.
I grabbed my bag with a deep sigh and headed to the cabin.
“Cael rolls in his sleep,” I said, pointing to the bottom bunk where he was unloading his blanket from his duffle. “You’re better off under Liam,” I said.
“And Baker smells like cigarettes,” Josh said, not looking up from what he was doing. Dark, messy curls licked at his neck as he stretched out.
Liam Baker was a second-string outfielder with a smoking problem.
“Whatever. Don’t complain when Cael is in your lap at three am.” I shook my head and threw my bag on the opposite bunk.
“You sound jealous, Tuck.” Josh tugged out his sweater, his shirt riding up and showing the scar-stained tan skin on his back. Between the smooth, untouched portions of freckled skin was horrible scarring… hundreds of minuscule white lines, some long and deep, where others were round and looked like healed burns. He fixed the shirt quickly with his free hand.
