Page 28 of Never Tear Us Apart

“Pay off my parents’ house, then a Lambo for me.”

“In that order?”

“Damn straight,” he nods.

Well, imagine that. Who would have ever believed Cruz’s friend was a decent guy?

“Then by all means,” I wave at the door, “have at it. Who knows, she may come in handy if the waves get too high. She’s got enough silicone to be a flotation device.”

He laughs again, this time harder than the first. “Stop,” he pinches the skin at the bridge of his nose when his eyes start to water, “I’m too drunk to laugh this hard.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” I can’t help but smile, “but it’s the truth.”

“Shit,” he takes a deep breath when he finally stops laughing, “that was good. You’re not so bad, little sis.”

“I’m not Cruz’s sister,” my smile fades. “And I’m glad you think so. At least someone does.”

He tilts his head, looking at me, curious. “Why don’t you and Cruz get along? I mean, I didn’t even know you existed until yesterday and that’s just weird.”

“Why? Because of the bro code.”

“No…” He runs a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. “The pitcher, catcher bond. It’s sacred.”

“Ah,” I nod. Cruz had mentioned it to me once. I know he and the catcher on his team at Elmhurst had been close, and he was still friends with the catcher from his school back in New York. At least, he was.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, wondering how to answer Jake’s question. Anything I say will be a lie except the truth, and he’s not getting that. Not from me anyway.

“We just don’t,” I shrug, and leave it at that. “But on a separate note, I do need to get out of here, so if you see my friend, will you tell her I’m waiting for her outside?”

“No can do.” He shakes his head with a smile.

I cross my arms, wondering if this is when his good guy routine dropped. “Why not?”

“Well…” He matches my stance, bending his knees slightly so we’re eye level. “I don’t care why you and Cruz don’t get along, but you’re part of his family, which makes you now, also part of mine.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I got your back. If someone wrongs you, they wrong me.”

“Really?” I arch a skeptical brow.

“Dead serious. You see this gun.” He holds up his right armand flexes. “It can throw a ball from home plate to second base faster than any other in Division One. So you just say the word, and it will be lights out for whoever was giving you a bad time.”

“Who said—”

“Someone had to have said or done something to send you flying in here. So tell me who it was and their face meets my fist.”

If only he knew my answer would mean knocking out the other half of his sacred pitcher/catcher bond. “While I appreciate the offer, it’s fine.”

He tilts his head and looks at me. “Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm. Just going to wait for my friend outside. In front, not the back. I don’t want to run into blondie.”

“Can I at least walk you out?” he asks, as I make my way to the door.

“I’m good. But thank you. Just tell my friend where I am if you see her.”

“I will,” he confirms. “Get home safe, Ellery.”

---