Chapter 16
Trevor
Iam going to murder whoever is speaking.
It’s that simple. That drunken fan is a dead man.
I’m far more patient than most players about signing autographs or being asked for selfies, but sometimes a man just wants to live his life, you know?
And when your wildest dream is about to come true…
when the woman you’ve been lost over finally looks at you like she’s seeing you the same way before tilting her gorgeous face toward yours for a kiss?
That is the worst possible moment to be recognized in public.
My hand keeps a firm grip of Kenzie’s hip as I look toward the sound of the voice. The faster I can dismiss this bozo, the better.
A middle-aged man in a Waves ballcap points—not at me—but at Kenzie.
“It is you,” he says, swaying on his feet. “I recognized that bright hair. You’re Aaron Lawson’s ex-fiancée. Shame about him not wanting you.”
Kenzie exhales a pained grunt. “Uh, yeah.”
No, no, no.
Not only is this bad because this jerkwad is ruining what was undoubtedly going to be the best kiss of my life, but I haven’t had the chance to explain my feelings to Kenzie. She needs to know that though Aaron and I are teammates, we’re nothing alike.
“Maybe you’d be up for other options? Like me,” the man suggests, painfully unaware, or too drunk to notice, that she’s still loosely wrapped in my arms.
“Look, man. I think you should—”
“Such a pretty girly.” He scratches his rotund belly. “Girly, girly with the red curls. I wonder if…” When his gaze tracks down Kenzie’s body, I step in front of her.
“That’s enough.” I set a rough palm on the man’s shoulder, pushing him back several steps. “You’re leaving.”
“Hey!” he snaps before looking up and breaking into a smile. “Hey, you’re Trevor Chapman.” A beer-scented laugh tumbles my way before he takes my hand off his shoulder and shakes it vigorously. “I’m such a fan. You have no idea.”
Then my brow furrows when, out of nowhere, the man bursts into tears.
“It’s been…” His voice climbs into a squeaky range. “It’s been a tough few months, and having baseball…” He uses the neck of his stained shirt to wipe his eyes. “It’s all I’ve got.”
My heart clenches involuntarily. I’m still irritated that he interrupted us, and I’m barely resisting the urge to punch him for the way he looked at Kenzie, but obviously this guy is not in the best place.
“How about I sign your hat?”
“Really?” He whips it off his bald head. “That would be great.”
I glance over my shoulder at Kenzie. The way she’s hugging herself rips me to shreds.
“As quietly as you can, go get a permanent marker from the bartender,” I tell the man. “If you tell anyone else I’m here, I’m walking out.”
The man nods eagerly, stumbling toward the bar.
In two large strides, I’m boxing Kenzie against the bar shelf, shielding her from the room. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes find mine, unsure, but holding my gaze as she nods.
“Good.” I exhale. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
It’s too honest, but it’s also what I didn’t say when I pulled her away from the lighthouse railing.
“We’re going home.” My tone is suddenly too gruff. I’m not usually the kind of man who orders anyone around. I’m the one who goes with the flow, but my need to fix this consumes me. “We can come back another time, or I’ll buy a pool table for the house. I don’t know. I just—”
I pull my hat off and run frustrated fingers through my hair.
“I got a pen.”
With the man back, I turn, keeping my body between Kenzie and him. It’s probably overzealous, but I can’t help myself. I quickly sign his hat, drop a wad of cash beside our half-eaten food, and tuck Kenzie beneath my shoulder, steering her toward the door.
It’s not until we’re on the road that either of us speak.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
Kenzie hugs herself tighter, and I nearly snap the steering wheel in half.
“For what?”
For not telling you how I felt before my jerk teammate asked you out. For not protecting you from him when you deserved better. For not being able to shield you from the fallout of his lies.
For not ignoring that man and kissing you senseless when I had the chance.
A sigh slumps my shoulders. “For what that guy said.”
“He just stated a fact,” she says, almost impassively. “Aaron doesn’t want me.”
I do. I always have.
But I’m not sure if I’ll make things better if I tell Kenzie the truth, so I stay quiet.
Silence surrounds us for the short drive home. By the time we check on a sleeping Jet, I’m more exhausted than after a double-header. I collapse on the couch, staring blankly at the darkened TV.
Long seconds tick by before I remember something.
There’d been a time in college when I thought I’d blown it after completely messing up in front of a scout.
I figured there was no way I’d get drafted that year.
The next day, when the scout called to tell me I’d been selected, I blurted, “Why?” He told me about how he’d seen me run after a teammate when he’d forgotten his water bottle on his way out, how I’d stayed behind to clean the dugout, how I’d gone out of my way to reassure one of the younger pitchers.
“I already knew you could play ball, son. I wanted to know what kind of person you were.”
I surge to my feet, prepared to tell Kenzie everything. The past year aside, I’ve prided myself in being up front and honest. In this situation, it might make things awkward, Kenzie might not want anything to do with me afterward, but she deserves to know how I feel.
I startle when I find Kenzie standing behind the couch, holding Banks like a shield.
“Oh, hey.” My attempt at casual fails spectacularly when my voice cracks.
“Hey.” The corner of her mouth twitches. “Could you sit back down? I want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” I plop down, gripping my knee and forcing myself to draw in a slow breath while she rounds the couch.
Kenzie bypasses her spot in the corner, sitting so close that our legs touch hip to knee. I nearly swallow my tongue.
“I had this idea the other day,” she says, pressing her shoulder against mine. “I thought we could try a slow transfer.”
“A slow transfer?”
I can barely concentrate as Kenzie licks her lips, her gaze still on Banks.
“Yeah.” She slides her fingers beneath Banks on her lap and shifts his front paws onto my thigh. “It’s not fair that he only snuggles with me.”
Banks gives out a low growl of protest when Kenzie shifts him farther onto my leg.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s okay that he likes you best.”
I can’t blame him. I like you best.
“No.” She continues shifting Banks onto my lap in small increments.
“After all you’ve done for him, after all you’ve given him— Not to mention how warm you always are and how good you smell…
” Kenzie looks up then, her green eyes meeting mine for the first time since we left the sports bar. “He should like you.”
Her ribs expand against mine, and I fight the urge to close my eyes at the blissful sensation.
“It’s okay that he’s been hurt by someone else because you wouldn’t hurt him.”
I blink. It’s clear we’re no longer talking about Banks.
“I would never.”
Kenzie’s gaze bounces from my eyes to my lips. “I thought so.”
She sways forward an inch before straightening with a noisy inhale. Disappointment surges through my veins, but I try not to let it show as she returns her gaze to mine.
“I like math.”
I nod, not sure where this is going. “I know you do.”
“The best thing about math is its consistency. Four plus four isn’t going to suddenly equal twelve.
But life isn’t even and orderly. I know that.
No one knows that better than farmers. Temperature and rainfall amounts vary from year to year.
Even using reliable methods and caring for the soil, some years yield less than others.
Don’t even get me started on insect and fungus levels. ”
I grin when a chuckle escapes her.
“What I’m saying is I understand that life is unpredictable, that even if you wanted to, you cannot control the outcome.” Her gaze dips to my lips again. “But after being confused because I thought I had it right, I need a little certainty.”
Understanding clicks into place.
“Ask me anything, Kenz. I’ll tell you the truth.”
Kenzie’s eyes snap to mine. “Earlier, when you said we needed to go home, when you stood between me and that man, was it because you didn’t want to be seen with me?”
“What? No.” My forehead bunches. I thought she’d finally ask about my longstanding crush, not about what happened at the bar. “I was protecting you from him.”
She nods, biting her lip. “I thought so, but I wanted to be sure because Aaron was embarrassed to be seen with me.”
I want to fist my hands and tell Kenzie what a narcissistic, conceited scumbag my teammate is, but that’s not what Kenzie really needs to hear.
“I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. I think you’re wonderful.”
“Oh.” The word drops softly from her lips.
My heart feels like it’s exploding as my gaze traces the delicate features of her face.
I’m two seconds from spilling everything, telling her that I’ve liked her from the second she tenderly changed Banks’s dressing last February, that living with her the last year has been an absolute joy and immense torture at the same time.
Then I’m going to ask her to come to tomorrow’s game.
I want to see her in the stands again, cheering her heart out.
But Kenzie rests her palm on my chest, and all thought falls away.
“In that case, there’s another thing I want to try.”