Page 52 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

Our dugout is on the third base side of the field, but at some point over the last few minutes, someone on the first base side has started laughing at the kids a little too loudly. It's not the sweet kind of laughter from the other parents, either. It doesn't sound like this guy is laughing because the kids are cute. It sounds like he's laughing at them.

Millie looks like she wants to tear the guy apart, but she and Duke can't risk getting upset at a "Little League Dad"—the media devours any story about them being protective and twists it into them being unhinged, like they do with anyone. Duke pulls Lottie aside when she gets upset. The other kids don't notice, whereas a handful of the parentsare getting annoyed.

So is Rusty.

The set of his jaw tells me how frustrated he is, but it's the flexing of his hand that's new to me.

I debate going to tell the guy off—his laugh is so grating and obnoxious—but Rusty's hand flex distracts me. If Pride and Prejudice has taught me anything, it's the significance of a hand flex.

A couple of parents are in the dugout and helping on the field, so I don't feel bad sneaking into the dugout to check on Rusty.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Of course," he says. "Why wouldn't I be?"

All around us, little kids are taking drinks from their water bottles and grabbing their gloves to head out to the field.

He holds his clipboard against his side as he directs the kids to their positions. When they're on the field, he keeps his gaze on the kids. The parent volunteers head out to the field, too, leaving the two of us alone in the dugout.

"You seem upset at that hyena of a dad on the other team," I say. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

Rusty’s nostrils flare. "I don't like bullies." This feels like a confession, not a statement of fact. I wait, letting the silence stretch. "Arlo was a bully."

Emotion lodges in my throat. Rusty doesn't talk about his parents a lot. I’m sickened that I had no idea.

I haven't mentioned my bio dad to Rusty, but that's because he's a Facebook "friend" and nothing more. Rusty's dad lives in Sugar Maple. His parents work at Tripp's farm doing the fruit stands, like Rusty. Arlo is a permanent fixture in Rusty’s life. And he’s a bully?

I’m almost berserk with anger. Flames must be coming out of my ears, because Rusty glances at me and his face softens.

"Hey, it's not a big deal,” he says, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"It's a huge deal, Rusty. I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

I slip beneath the arm holding his clipboard and wrap my arms around his waist. The jerky dad on the other team starts laughing again when our players fall all over themselves to get the ball. "Can I go beat that guy up?"

"No, I got this."

He kisses my temple before letting go of me and striding out of the dugout and around the back of the bleachers.

I rush out to follow Rusty, and I catch up with him right when he rounds the bleachers to find the Little League Dad.

Except, it's not a dad at all.

It's Philip.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RUSTY

How is this guy everywhere I don't want him to be?

I'm trying harder than ever to be the kind of guy I want to be, and this golden hammer keeps popping up to try to derail me.

I can’t let him.

Especially not with Ash watching me.

---