Page 96 of Stolen Bases

No.“I’m fine.”

Eli snorts. “Sure, kid. I’d believe you if you didn’t look like your puppy got ran over and now you want to beat the living hell out of the driver who did it.”

“Do not,” I mumble. I rub at the ache in my chest. On second thought, maybe he’s right.

I struggle to keep my eyes off Talia. I watch her like my life depends on it as she mingles with other families and players on the team. I almost beat the shit out of Serrano when he kisses the back of her hand. Nico pushes his friend away, threatening him. Talia throws her head back and laughs.

“Uncle Cam, can we play catch now?” Rhys asks. He pouts up at me with golden-brown eyes, and I can’t say no.

“Good idea.” I give my nephew a high five. Thank God he’s here today, or I might do something stupid, like rush over to Talia and cause a scene.

I lead Rhys over to the infield, where we throw the ball around. A couple of other kids join us. After a while, I start a hitting derby, pitching the ball to all the kids who want to take part.

Nico approaches with a cocky smirk that I’d like to punch right off his face. Standing behind him is Talia, chewing on her lip.

I lob the ball at a cute little girl wearing an Evaders’ tutu. She sticks her tongue out and swings, spinning around in a circle. She’s fucking adorable, and I can’t wait for my niece to rock this outfit while I pitch to her.

“I see you’re already practicing for your next job, Miller.”

“What might that be, Romero?”

“Little league coach. ‘Cause all you’re good for is throwing meatballs at kids.” Nico laughs at his joke. “If you retire now, you’ll make it before the next little league season starts.”

For the first time today, my eyes lock on Talia’s as she stands behind her brother. Her lip quivers, and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.

Fuck.

This is the shit I don’t want Talia to witness. I don’t want her to see how bad things are with her brother. She has this idea of him being a great guy, but that’s not who I know. I avoid her questions when she asks how things are going with him.

Talia mouths,I’m sorry,before wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Every molecule in my body wants me to wrap her up in my arms and reassure her that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t.

I can’t lie to her. I love her. I promised her to always be honest. She has to know our relationship is going to be an uphill battle where Nico is concerned. I only hope that he doesn’t make her choose because no matter how much I love her, I won’t break her family apart. I’d let her go, even if it breaks me.

Well fuck, that was dark.

“Hey.” Rhys stalks over and pokes Romero in the stomach. “You have poor sportsmanship. Uncle Cam says poor sports don’t have friends.”

Romero stares wide-eyed at my nephew, who just called his ass out for being a tool.

Jace walks over, placing a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “Are you okay, Rhys?”

“Mr. Romero was being mean to Uncle Cam,” Rhys says, using his manners. His little body vibrates with anger, and his arms cross over his chest. My little champion is ready to throw down.

I couldn’t be prouder of him.

Jace bites back a smile of pride as he glances my way. I nod from the mound, assuring him Rhys is fine as I stand stock still watching on. I’m not going to lie; I’m interested to see where this goes.

Romero looks uncomfortable as he stares at Rhys. If he takes even one wrong step, I’ll lay his ass out. As will the rest of the Miller crew strolling up. The Romero family is not too far behind as Nico glances around, unsure of what to do.

“What’s going on here?” a middle-aged woman asks. Talia’s mom. Aside from age, the two are identical with the same heart-shaped face, sparkling gray eyes, and silky black hair.

That’s my queue to step in. I approach, cool as a cucumber, and plaster on my good-boy smile. “Nothing, ma’am. Everything is fine. We were just playing some ball, right, Rhys?”

Rhys tilts his head up to me, a dubious look on his face. I stare at him, begging him to keep his mouth shut. My prayers fall on deaf ears.

“No. I heard Mr. Romero say mean things to you.”

I see my dad’s posture stiffen as my mom grips his arm, holding him back. We’ve talked a lot over the years about staying quiet and taking the high road. It’s difficult to sit aside and listen to someone tear you down, but that’s what we decided I should do. I can’t imagine how my dad feels coming face to face with a man who takes shots at me daily.

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