Page 14 of Secret Baby With My Brother's Best Friend

Harper nodded, and I turned the machine on. She missed the first ball, the second, third, fourth, and fifth, and only managed to hit the sixth ball. "Well, that wasn't so bad," I mumbled, trying not to laugh.

Harper groaned in frustration.

"There's room for improvement. You'll do better next time," I assured. "But that's enough for one night. I'm starving. We should grab something to eat," I suggested, picking up my bag.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Harper agreed.

We stopped at the first diner we came across on our way back. It was a quaint roadside diner with a cozy atmosphere, a few scattered customers, and old-school songs playing softly in the background. Harper and I settled into a booth near the window. I perused the menu, and she did the same while we waited for the waitress to arrive at our table.

"Good evening. What can I get you?" the young woman asked.

"I'll have a club sandwich with a vanilla milkshake," Harper ordered swiftly.

"I'll have a bacon burger, fries and a coke. Thank you."

"Alright. I'll be right back," she said and left our table. The waitress returned to our table minutes later with our order, placing them on the table as she stated the order. "Will that be all?" she questioned.

"For now, it is. Thank you," I said.

"So, I have a few questions for you," Harper stated as we ate. She filled her mouth with her food.

"What questions?" I asked with a mouthful of french fries.

"Important questions for the feature."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Why did you start playing baseball?"

I sipped my Coke. "You know the answer to that very well."

"It's not my job to answer it. I can't just write based on what I know, or think I know. That's not how it works."

"But what you know are the facts." I stated intently.

"Just answer the question so we can move to the next one."

"My dad was an outstanding player, and he influenced me as a child," I took a bite from my burger. "He taught me how to play, and I shared his love for the game. After his death, baseball became my only connection to him, and so I promised myself that I would never stop playing. So? What's your next question."

"Who is your mentor? But I guess you're going to say your father."

"Answering for me now, huh? What happened to: it's not your job to answer for me?"

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine. I'm just quoting you. You are right. My father is my mentor," I bit down on another corner of my burger.

Harper looked up from the list as she asked the next question casually. "Have you ever loved anything other than baseball?" she asked casually, her tone belying the significance of her inquiry.

Taking a bite of french fries, I paused momentarily, considering my response. "No," I lied. "I've never loved anything other than the game."

Her lips curved slightly, but her eyes betrayed a hint of disappointment. "I see," she murmured, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "I think that's enough for today. We can discuss the rest another time." With that, she closed her notebook and redirected her attention to her meal.

For the remainder of dinner, a heavy silence settled between us. After dinner, I paid the bills, and we returned to the hotel. Harper was quiet. It was clear that my answer had hurt her. I didn't mean to hurt her, but I had no choice but to lie to avoid any other questions of that sort.

Chapter Nine

Harper

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