Page 72 of Liam

“Nothing,” he mumbles, gaze lowered.

Addie turns to him, then squats down to his level. “Can I ask you something?”

Benny nods, still pouting.

“Do you enjoy baseball?” she asks, and it’s such a simple question, I’m pissed no one thought to ask before now.

Benny doesn’t answer, and Addie and I glance at each other quickly before facing him again.

“Benny…” I lower myself in front of him, try to catch his eyes. “You don’t have to play if you don’t enjoy it.”

“You know…” Addie starts. “I had the best coaches when I was your age, and you know what they’d always tell me?”

Cameron and Roman were our coaches when we were Benny’s age. They were a couple of years younger than Addie and I are now.

“What?” Benny asks her.

“It ain’t worth playin’—”

“If you ain’t havin’ fun,” I finish.

I don’t know how I forgot about that. They used to drill it into us before every game. I loved playing for them because it wasfun.No other reason. Well, there was one. And the fact that she’s here with me right now, over a decade later, is still blowing my mind.

“So what do you think is fun?” Addie asks him.

Benny twists his lips, thinking for a moment. “Dancing.”

I rear back, surprised. “I’ve never seen you dance,” I murmur. At the same time, Addie says, “Heck yeah! Show me your moves.”

Benny laughs at this, the sound as pure and innocent as he is. “I got no music.”

“I can help with that.” I bypass Mia as I run into the studio, grab my phone and portable speaker, and then rush back out. I hand Benny my phone, the music app already open. “Pick your song.”

Benny taps at my phone a few times, then looks up at me as the song begins. I don’t recognize the beat and, going by the look on Addie’s face, she doesn’t either. But Benny clearly does. So does Mia, because she’s rolling her eyes, shaking her head. Hedrops the bat, throws his arms out in front of him, leans back, and starts shimmying his shoulders.

I stifle my chuckle as I watch Benny dance, his feet stomping. His movements are jerky, arms shaking, hips thrusting back and forth—completely void of any rhythm.

“Look at you!” Addie cheers, her smile full force.

I take my phone from him and look at the song. “Batter Up” by Nelly. “Uh, Benny, how do you know this song?”

“Papa!” He and Mia answer in unison.

Benny adds, “We dance to it all the time.”Papais Mia’s dad—the billionaire Lincoln is obsessed with. He often flies in on his private jet just to watch his grandson play a little league baseball game. “You dance, too, Addie!”

Addie doesn’t skip a beat. She just copies Benny’s dance moves. And those moves on Benny? Cute.

On Addie? Ridiculous.

Andadorable.

“You, too, Uncle Twinny!” Benny shouts.

I shake my head. “Absolute not.”

“Party pooper!” Addie calls out.

“Yeah, party pooper!” Benny agrees.

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