Page 20 of Honey Undone
Taylor growled at Zane from across the table but my focus was pulled upward to the start of the game while they argued to themselves about our father. I didn’t particularly care either way. Me and dad had never been close, I was the youngest and required the least attention from him when everything started tofall apart. Taylor was two years from graduating and Zane was so brilliant at such a young age my parents had been arguing over how they were going to pay to put him through law school.
I had been an afterthought of a child.
Independent, self-sufficient. I was invisible in my own family dynamic. My brothers did their best to pick up the slack but monthly dinners where they argued about our parents wasn’t exactly what I had pictured when they suggested we started them.
Their argument faded out as the pitcher took the mound and started to silently communicate with Jensen behind home plate. I could see the worry on his brow as he slapped the cage down over his face and prepared for the opening pitch of the game. It was clear that the game was a stressor, the times before everything had been so light and fun. The urge to win was always present but the Jensen on the TV screen was a different animal and it stirred something around in the pit of my stomach.
My hand flexed around my cup as the ball was thrown, it looked like it was going to hit leather but instead the bat caught it and it was rocketed right back at Logan on the mound. It bounced off the ground and spun through the air toward the shortstop. He pocketed it like it was nothing and rifled the ball across the infield to Tucker on first. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until the play was called dead.
When I turned back to the table both my brothers were eying me.
“What?” A nervous chuckle left my lips.
“Since when do you like baseball?” Taylor asked, his voice as judgmental as his harsh stare. He leaned over the table and tilted his head to the side to really drive his question home.
“It’s sports…I like sports,” I said trying to recover and looked to Zane for help. Usually he was down to team up on Taylor but I was being hung out to dry.
“Sure, you like a lot of sports,” Zane laughed, and I knew I had stepped in it. “But you’ve never foundthatmuch interest in baseball.”
“It’s the playoffs, I’m just supporting the hometown team,” I brushed him off, pressing my lips to my glass to find the drink empty. I looked around for awaitress in a pathetic attempt to get out of the conversation, without luck I rose from the stool.
“Sit,” Taylor said, narrowing his eyes on me.
“I need a refill,” I whined and Taylor shook his head.
“You’re hiding something,” Zane accused, finally catching on.
“This is bullying, just so you know. You’re bullying me,” I said in a tight, nervous ramble as my throat grew dry. I didn’t want to tell them why I was obsessively watching the game, it was new and not serious. And definitely not older brother worthy.
“You’re turning red!” Zane pushed my shoulder and I snapped at him with my teeth. “She’s turning red…”
“There’s a guy,” Taylor lowered his voice as a waitress dropped our plates on the table.
“There’s a fucking guy!” Zane yelled and turned up to the TV with an excited gasp.
“You’re both overgrown toddlers, shut the fuck up,” I growled and tugged on Zane’s dress shirt to keep him in his chair.
“Who is it?” Taylor asked.
“It’s none of your business,” I said, knowing that the pushback for my short attitude would be worse.
“The pitcher?” Zane asked, watching the game and then searching for my reaction. “Nope,” he said looking back. “The shortstop!”
“She hates blondes,” Taylor grumbled but I could see him starting to get into the game and I hated it. Zane was intelligent, quick and very observant. It’s what made him a good lawyer but Taylor had always caught on quicker. He was good with formulas, theories… he enjoyed knowing what made things tick. Once he started to pay attention it would take him seconds to figure it out. “It’s the catcher,” he said, turning slowly from the TV to look at me with a smug look on his face. “Isn’t it, Addy?”
“How do you know?” Zane asked and started to pick at his french fries.
“Tattoos, dark hair, he looks tall…” Taylor listed, and dropped his tone again. “Tell me I'm wrong and I’ll drop it.”
“I hate you,” I said, getting in his face with a frustrated grin.
“Omission!” Zane snapped his fingers at me. “What’s his name?”
“Jensen.” I spun my fork nervously into my pasta, and kept my eyes down. I didn’t come into the Hollow without ordering the Caper Lemon linguine. It was my comfort food and I was really glad I had a massive plate of it to lose my feelings in.
“That’s the name on the back of his jersey,” Taylor said, picking up his burger. “What’s his first name?”
“I don’t know, he goes by Jensen.” I shrugged.
