20. Miles
CHAPTER TWENTY
Miles
Dirt flies up behind me as I round second base and barrel toward third. The ball that I lobbed into the far corner of the outfield still isn’t back into the infield, so I’m going for it.
Sprinting isn’t really my thing. I’m more of an endurance guy, but I turn on all the jets I have.
As my feet pound against the dirt, my head snaps to the left. The first baseman is throwing the ball toward home, where their catcher is waiting.
The only way I’m going to make it is if I slide.
Knowing this is probably going to hurt tomorrow, I lower my body and glide across home plate. “Safe,” the umpire calls.
Thank fuck.
At least I have a run to show for my sure-to-be bruised hip.
Maybe Avery will massage it for me.
The thought pops into my brain before I even have the chance to get fully upright again.
The whole team is going wild in the dugout. It isn’t the end of the game, though, so they stay where they are. Grabbing my bat from the ground, I make my way to the fence where Lyla and Avery are cheering.
“That was awesome,” Lyla says.
Her gigantic smile makes my own grow even wider. I lean into the fence just like she is. My hand grips the chain link right beside Avery’s.
“It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”
Lyla laughs, hopping around in a circle.
One of Avery’s fingers slides against mine, hooking around my pinky. She smiles at me when I glance her way. Unless someone was standing right beside us, they would have no idea we’re even touching right now.
I have no idea why this one tiny action feels more intimate than anything we’ve done. And that’s saying something because we have done some filthy things to each other.
Her finger tightens around mine, and she gives me a wink. “Shouldn’t you be getting back over there, hot shot?”
“Hot shot?”
She shrugs, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes.
“Eventually,” I say.
“Miles,” Will shouts, irritation evident in his tone.
“Told you,” Avery says smugly.
I give her finger one last squeeze before backing away. I toss my bat in the air, catching it with my opposite hand.
“Bye, my favorite girls,” I say, walking backwards. I swear I see a hint of blush creeping up over Avery’s cheeks, but maybe I’m mistaken.
The rest of the game is fairly uneventful, with my run the only one scored by either team. We’re playing a different team than the usual ones from Aspen Springs. It’s the Fourth of July, so teams from the nearby towns have come for the holiday tournament.
We’re down several guys because of injury, vacations, and wives having babies. It’s a miracle we won two out of the three games today.
“How are we going to make it through the rest of the season down three players?” one of the guys says from the far end of the dugout after the game.
“We could bring in other players for the rest of the year,” Will says, packing up his bag.
“The Rivers brothers,” Owen suggests.
“There’s three of them,” one of the guys points out, laughing.
They live pretty far out of town, but if they’d be game, that would be awesome. All of them are ripped as shit, so if they have any hand-eye coordination, they’ll probably knock it out of the park. Literally.
“I’ll ask,” Owen says before walking toward the parking lot. Oh… my broody brother.
The rest of the team laughs but agree it’s the right call.
Will and I walk side by side toward his truck with our bags slung over our shoulders. Rounding the dugout, we find Owen with Lyla on his shoulders.
She’s laughing hysterically, looking like she’s going to fall off at any second. She’s eight now, a lot bigger than she used to be. She doesn’t exactly fit up there anymore.
She’s making me a little nervous, so I can only imagine how Will feels. He always gets far more worried about things than Owen or me.
Owen would never actually let her fall, though. His hands are firmly gripped around her legs, holding her in place.
“Run,” Lyla shouts.
She barely has a chance to wrap her arms around his head before Owen starts sprinting toward Will’s truck. Lyla’s screeches and squeals continue as Owen takes lap after lap around the truck, while the rest of us make our way over at a much slower pace.
I glance at Avery who’s standing beside me. Her eyes are glued to Owen and the smile plastered on his face.
There aren’t many things that make Owen smile like that. Just Lyla… and now I’m pretty sure Avery can be added to that list, too.