Page 73 of Shades of You

I sighed, letting the sounds of the diner fill the brief silence. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

“Then listen to your heart. It hasn’t steered you wrong yet.”

When we left the restaurant, the humidity seeped into my bones. We walked to the parking lot, and I leaned against the door of my car. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course. Trust your gut on this, Bren.” Harper gave me a half-hug, her presence always steady when I felt adrift. She stepped back, and I watched her retreat to her own car before slipping into the driver’s seat of mine. My phone’s screen cast a pale glow as I held it. For a long moment, I stared at Hunter’s message, reading his words over and over.

I missed him horribly. There was no use pretending otherwise. But could I stand beside him, come what may?My thumbs hovered over the keyboard before they began to move with a will of their own.

Brenna: I miss you too. Good luck at the game.

Sending it felt like casting a bottle into the ocean, uncertain if the message would reach the shore or be swallowed by the waves. But I couldn’t promise I’d be there, not when my heart was still so uncertain. I needed to think this through, and I only had a day to do it.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hunter

“Come on, Hunter!”Maia shouted from the dugout. “Knock the cover off the ball.”

Without reacting to her encouragement, I tightened my grip on the aluminum bat and stepped up to the plate. The early afternoon sun blazed down on us, making the Big Pine Key baseball field shimmer like an emerald. Palms swayed lazily beyond the outfield fence, and the air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass—a balmy tropical day that seemed at odds with the tension of a championship game.

We were running out of time. The Sugarloaf Key Barracudas were ahead, thanks to their ace pitcher, Tom, who’d been shutting us down all game. Except for Evan. In the sixth inning, he’d launched a solo home run that gave our Stingrays a flicker of hope as he narrowed our deficit to two runs to one.

Evan had pitched a solid game—more than solid, really. But his fastball didn’t have the usual sting of our sessions behind the Big House. Last inning, I’d jogged out to themound, peering at him for any sign of injury. “What’s up? Is something wrong with your arm?”

Evan just frowned, the lines around his mouth deepening. “It’s a rec league, Hunter.” He shook his head. “I’m not gonna throw my best stuff to a bunch of neighbors. That wouldn’t be sportsmanlike.”

“Sportsmanlike?” I snorted, glancing over at the Barracudas’ dugout where Tom was practically breathing fire, no qualms about showing us his best. Not to mention their goddamn slugger, Brent Hannigan. Since our catharsis the other day behind the Big House, Evan and I had become easier around each other. Finally relaxed enough that I could tell him what was on my mind. “Their guys don’t seem too concerned with being gentlemanly. And maybe you’ve been a little too easy on Brent. We’re behind, you know.”

“There’s still time. I’ll tighten up if I need to. Don’t worry.” Evan shrugged, the muscles in his jaw working as he suppressed whatever emotions were brewing beneath the surface. “We play our game, our way.”

Our waywas apparently him pitching just enough to keep us in the game without making the Barracudas look like fools. It was typical Evan, trying to find balance.

“Fine. Let’s get this win, then.” I clapped him on the shoulder.

“That’s the plan.” The determined glint in his eye told me he wasn’t going to let this game slip through our fingers.

Now, as I settled into the batter’s box in the top of the ninth inning, digging my cleats into the earth, it was my turn to do what I could. For the team, for Evan, and for the second chance we were both scrabbling after. Maybe it made no sense, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that myfuture hung in the balance right now. I took a deep breath and expelled it in a rush.

My gaze involuntarily flicked to the bleachers for the hundredth time. To where Brenna sat, her willowy figure unmistakable even at this distance, sitting beside April, who looked about ready to pop. I couldn’t believe Brenna had shown up. After her text, I’d been positive she wouldn’t come.

I was wrong.

“Come on, Hunter!” Aiden called from first base, snapping me back to reality. He’d just hit a single and was itching to advance. I nodded, gripping the bat tighter as he took a healthy lead.

Tom wound up, his arm a blur as he released a fastball that cut through the air like a knife. Time slowed as I tracked its path, every muscle coiled and ready. I was laser-focused on the ball, not even thinking as I began my swing. Pure instinct.

And then, contact.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball resounded like a thunderclap and sent the crowd into a frenzy. I watched, almost in disbelief, as the ball arced high.

Higher.

Then it sailed over the outfield fence.

“Yeah, Hunter!” The shouts from the dugout reached me, distant and muffled as if underwater. But I was already in motion, legs almost numb as adrenaline surged through me. Rounding the bases, I didn’t dare look into the stands, afraid to break the spell of the moment.

I crossed home plate and fell into a back-slapping hug with Aiden as reality hit me—we’d just taken the lead. Three to two, just like that. A raw and exultant cheer ripped from my throat as I scanned the crowd for Brenna’sface. She cheered wildly for me, on her feet. Her eyes held a note of pride and suspense I tried not to read too much into. Her presence here was a curveball I hadn’t seen coming, and yet it felt so right. Our gazes held for a long moment, and my body felt light and free as Aiden and I strolled off the field.

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