Page 13 of Grand Slam

I can’t do this, I refuse to. By the time I take my seat the Terrors take the field and I can’t help it, my focus lands on right field. Ball cap pulled low, aviators on, and in position, I’m in awe. I’ve watched Kelton play more than a hundred times, but seeing him here, in his element, feels different. He was born to play, the game runs through his veins.

The crack of the ball against the bat, I watch it soar through the air between the third and second baseline, slowly descending.

My heart races, my eyes locked on Kelton. Liz places her hand on my arm, squeezing in anticipation. It’s surreal and an incredible rush of adrenaline as the ball hits his glove. It seems so effortless, just before he switches the ball to his other hand and throws it infield. A smile covers his lips as he looks over to Jake Reynolds their center fielder. He says something, Jake laughs and I can’t seem to look away.

Even the distance can’t eliminate the pull I feel to him. Coming here was a mistake, when I’d forced myself to believe there was nothing between us, nothing more than a moment of lust.

But I can’t deny it now. It’s the first time I feel like that part of me that has been missing has found its way back. I hate it and love it all at the same time. It scares me.

We don’t fit, our lives don’t mesh. We are so far apart and I’m not just referring to the miles between us.

I’m not fame and glamour, I’m cutoff shorts and flip flops to his million dollar home.

“That’s my brother.” Liz places her hands to her mouth, shouting and laughing. “Hell yeah!” She thrusts her arm in the air doing a crazy victory dance. That one play just won the game.

When she points with one hand toward the field and presses the fingertip of the opposite hand to the end of her nose, I glance in the direction to find Kelton doing the exact thing in the field. The crowd roars, people turning around to look at us.

“Oh my God!” she screams, slapping my arm and pointing. That’s when I see it. We are on the Jumbotron. And I looked horrified. Eyes wide in surprise, my mouth partially open in shock.

“Perfect,” I mumble, slowly lowering myself back to my seat.

When she joins me laughing at my expense, I can’t even defend myself. “You looked like you swallowed a bug.” Tears stream down her face, unable to control her laughter. “You will never live that down.” And I know she’s right. I’ll be a meme by the end of the night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Kelton

“Who was the girl?”our catcher Tripp Nash asks as he pulls his shirt over his head. I don’t reply right away hoping he’ll let it be and I can weasel my way out of this awkward situation. But when he leans against the locker at my side and I can practically feel him breathing down my neck I realize I’m backed in a corner.

“My sister.” I shrug and am met with silence.

Glancing up I see Tripp with his arms crossed, staring at me with an arched brow.

“We are fully aware of who your little sister is.” I look back over my shoulder to see Callahan also staring me down. “We’re asking about the brunette that looked mortified when she realized the entire stadium of fans was looking at her.”

“Alizabeth’s best friend.” I do my best not to give them any reason to think otherwise. But these assholes are entirely toofucking nosy and they share a look. Suddenly half the lineup is staring me down. Damien is front and center, holding my stare.

“Just your sister’s bff, huh?”

I nod.

“I call bullshit.” He chuckles.

“Where’s Monroe?’ I do my best to redirect this conversation but he’s not having it.

“We aren’t talking about me, James.” The corner of his mouth tips up in a cocky grin. “We’re talking about you and that pretty brunette. Something’s telling me she’s a little more than sis’s best bud. I’m guessing she’s something to you too.”

Fuck why does my mouth feel so dry?

“Maybe we should ask the girl?” Tripp chuckles gaining the reaction he needs and I turn to face him. “And there it is, fellas. Kelton’s got a thing for the sister’s best friend.”

“Oh shit man, does the sister know?” Callahan asks with a chuckle.

“Until last night I would have said no.” No reason to keep trying to deny it. “Would have saved me a lot of dancing around.”

“So is this a current or a past thing?” Chase, our third baseman asks, leaning his shoulder against the locker opposite Tripp.

“What is this, Dr. Phil?” I’m suddenly surrounded, all eyes and attention on me and I hate it. “Don’t you idiots have something better to do than drill me?”

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