Page 9 of Shades of You

Stella laughed, her athletic form relaxed as she draped an arm over Liv’s shoulder. Like Gabe and me, she was a regular runner. “Trust me, I’ve had my share of outfield blunders. It’s all about having fun, remember?”

I nodded in agreement, trying to focus on their conversation. Stella met my eyes before leaning forward to speak quietly to Liv. “Do you think I should talk to Evan again about joining the team? It could be good for him, right?”

Images flooded my mind at the mention of Evan—his total concentration while on the mound, and the way he could pitch with pinpoint accuracy. I remembered the awe I felt playing catch with him, how the baseball seemed to obey his command. He’d been a rookie phenom, headed toward the Major Leagues when I’d changed the entire course of his life in one day. In one dive. And changed my future too.

“It would be great to see him out here,” I managed to say, though memories made my voice feel distant, like I was talking from the end of a long tunnel.

Liv chewed her lip, concern creasing her brow. “It would. But I don’t know if he’s ready for that. Baseball used to be his world, and how could this not bring all that back?”She trailed off, her lowered brows and tight mouth an expression of protective love. Her man had been through the wringer, and here we were, talking about tossing him into a game that might rake up more than just dirt.

“Maybe he doesn’t have to start on the mound,” I suggested, trying to navigate our shared history with as much tact as I could muster. “He could just come in to hit and play first base or something. No pressure. Besides, Evan was an amazing hitter, remember?”

Stella nodded, her big brown eyes shining with a mix of hope and nostalgia. “So are you.”

I shrugged off her compliment, not wanting to think about my own skills—they paled in comparison to Evan’s. More than anything in the world, I wanted to see my brother at ease with me. The two of us had spent hours on baseball fields once.

Liv panned her gaze around the field, then gave Stella a firm nod. “Go ahead and talk to him. If he’s not ready yet, he’ll say so.”

The dugout chatter faded as I approached the batter’s box, gripping the bat like it was an old friend. The Stingrays needed this win, and I needed… well, I needed to focus on something other than the long, creamy curve of Brenna’s neck and the way her green eyes seemed brighter than the outfield grass I was staring at.

We played on one of several baseball fields adjacent to a school in Big Pine Key. The four diamonds were shaped like a four-leaf clover, with the backstops at the center. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into position and my stance felt as natural as breathing. The Marlins’ pitcher wound up, releasing the ball in a blur toward home plate. Time slowed down as my eyes locked onto the incoming pitch, my body coiling like a spring.

Crack!

The sound was sweet, the vibration through the aluminum bat just right. The ball sliced into the gap past the second baseman, and by the time the fielders scrambled, the ball was kissing the grass in the outfield. I rounded first, the cheers from the bleachers spurring me on as I pushed for second base.

“Go, go, go!” Maia’s voice cut through the roar of the crowd.

Sliding into third, I kicked up a cloud of dust, the umpire’s hand slicing through the air. “Safe!” I whipped my head up as Anselm, a chef at Dorado, ran across home plate just behind Gabe.

“Two runs score! The Stingrays win!”

Adrenaline surged through me as my teammates stood and cheered. I pushed to my feet, brushing dirt from my pants, and a smile fought its way across my face despite my best efforts to stay level-headed. Maybe it was more than just a game, after all. Maybe it was a momentary escape from the complexities of life in paradise, from the tension of reunions both romantic and sibling, from the thoughts about Brenna that had been gnawing at my insides like a persistent hunger.

“Nice hit, little brother!” Stella beamed at me, pride radiating from her.

“Thanks, Stel.” I returned her smile. For now, this small victory would have to be enough. I was still catching my breath when they started making plans to hit the Conch Republic Brewpub, Dove Key’s most popular watering hole.

“Come on, Hunter! First round’s on me,” Gabe called out, his arm slung over April’s shoulder as they made their way toward the dugout exit. Her stomach was getting roundwith pregnancy, and she’d made the decision to cheer us from the stands rather than play herself.

“Nah, you go ahead,” I said, swiping the back of my hand across my forehead. “Stayed up late on a security detail last night. I’m beat.”

“Your loss, man,” Maia chimed in with a playful punch to my arm. “But we’ll toast to your triple.”

“Appreciate it.” I forced a smile. It wasn’t the late night that had me wanting solitude. It was the need for quiet that sometimes overtook me when faced with loud crowds. For this foray into a fun sports league was about me trying to move on too.

After parking and entering my building, I took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the familiar ache in my muscles from the game and the day’s tensions. Pushing open the door to my apartment, the silence welcomed me like an old friend. The Clive Cussler book still lay unopened on the table next to the door. Pedro, my little black six-toed sidekick, lay curled up on the couch, a tiny reminder that not everything in life was as complicated as human emotions.

At the sound of my entrance, he lifted his head. His green eyes fixed on me before he stretched and hopped down, his extra toes making his paws look somehow more endearing. Padding over, he weaved between my legs and demanded attention in his feline way.

“What, you missed me? Don’t expect me to get attached, little dude.”

With a frown, I reluctantly scooped him up into my arms. His purr vibrated against my chest, a rumble that seemed to say all was right in his world. I set him down long enough to refill his water dish and check his food—still plenty. As he took a few laps of water, a part of me envied his simple needs, his uncomplicated life.

But in the short time I’d been living here, I’d found my sanctuary. After grabbing a protein shake from the fridge, I crossed to my bookcase. The Cussler could wait—I wanted something more literary tonight. After picking up my favorite translation of Homer’sThe Odyssey, I climbed the narrow staircase tucked away behind what looked like an ordinary closet door. I emerged onto the rooftop of my modest apartment. The sky above was a canvas of deep indigo, dotted with stars that shimmered like diamonds scattered across velvet.

The rooftop had become a place where the chaos of the day dissolved into the tranquil whispers of night. I’d set up a little oasis, with a patio cover shielding a cozy rug and an inviting outdoor seating area with couches and throw pillows. Crisscrossing strings of outdoor lights hung over the area, dark now. Tonight, it was the lounger that called to me. I pulled it out and settled down before taking a long drink of my shake and opening my book. Soon, I was lost in the exploits of Odysseus and his crew fighting to find their way home.

A soft, muffled mewing caught my attention, followed by scratching. Frowning, I turned my head toward the door. I didn’t want that damn cat to distract me. It was moments like these when I could almost fool myself into believing life was simple. And pets were obligations. Complications.

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