8. Conrad
CHAPTER EIGHT
Conrad
Brooks pulls into the dirt lot beside the softball field, late as usual, and steps out of the truck, soaking wet from head to toe.
A huge, dopey smile is plastered on his face, though.
“What the hell happened to you?” I ask.
He reaches into the bed of the truck, pulling out his duffle bag. “Nothing,” he says with a smirk.
Nothing never means nothing with my brother. “What did you do?”
He pulls his sopping shirt over his head, tossing it in the truck.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He pulls his team shirt over his head and pauses. “Well, maybe you do.”
He proceeds to strip down to his boxers right there in the parking lot.
“Do you realize where you’re standing?” I gesture around to the very public space.
He shrugs. “What’s the problem?”
Finally, with a pair of athletic shorts and tennis shoes on, he walks toward me, his bag slung over his shoulder.
Side by side, we make our way into the dugout. “What did you mean it might be something I need to worry about?”
He twists his half-wet hair up into a bun. “I guess if you care, you’ll figure it out. If you don’t, then it doesn't really matter.”
My hands fly out at my sides. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re the smart one, Con,” he says, tapping the side of my head. “Figure it out.”
Since when is he so cryptic?
Grayson walks into the dugout with a couple of his buddies from the firehouse, Tucker and Warren, who are also on our team. Warren’s three-year-old son, Jackson, walks in holding his dad’s hand. Grayson’s eyes dart around. “Where’s Austin?”
“He’s picking up Evelyn from dance. He’ll be here soon.”
He nods, getting his gear ready.
“Boo!” Evelyn’s adorable voice rings out as she presses her face to the chain link screen protecting the dugout from the rest of the field.
Brooks leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hey there, Evie Girl.”
Her eyes catch on Grayson, and she bounds toward him. “Grayson, Grayson, Grayson,” she yells, until he turns around to give her his undivided attention. “I met your sister yesterday. She’s so cool. And so pretty.”
The air suddenly feels too thin around me, and it has nothing to do with the altitude.
Hadley.
I thought my obsessive thoughts about her were bad before I discovered she was in the same town as me. Now, I’ve thought of little else since then.
It’s complicated with the way Austin clearly feels about her. I hate messes and avoid them with a ten-foot pole, but this seems like a mess I’m not going to be able to stay away from.
“I played with her dog at the dog park, then she went in the truck with Daddy and me,” Evelyn continues.
I scrunch my eyebrows together. Austin didn’t say anything about that.
“She is really pretty,” Brooks speaks up, leaning his arm against my shoulder as Austin steps into the space.
“Why was my sister in your truck?” Grayson asks Austin.
Austin looks around, confused by the immediate question. “Uh… the dog she had with her was completely worn out, and I didn’t want her to have to drag him all the way back to the shelter.”
Grayson glances around the dugout. “All of you need to stay away from my sister,” he proclaims in his stern captain's voice.
“Now, why on earth would we want to do that?” Brooks says, like the instigator he is. His smile from earlier has only grown.
Grayson points a finger at him. “Especially you, Thompson. Stay away from her.”
Brooks holds up both of his hands but surprisingly keeps his mouth shut.
I need to tell him. I know I do.
Yeah, sure. Just tell him you fucked his sister in an airplane bathroom, and she made you come harder than you ever have in your life.
Now you can’t think of anything other than fucking her again. And maybe cuddling on the couch and watching a movie…
Nope. Not happening.
Evelyn peeks around Grayson, waving at Jackson before she runs toward me, jumping into my arms. I chuckle, hugging her tight.
Geez, she’s getting big. There used to be a whole lot less of her to pick up and swing around.
“Are you going to hit a home run tonight?” she asks, wriggling until I set her back down.
With the way my head’s a mess right now, probably not. All I’ve got going on up there right now is Hadley, Hadley, Hadley.
“For you, I’ll try,” I say, ruffling her hair.
She glares at me. “Don’t mess up my hair, Con. I’ll look all crazy.” Her eyes get comically wide.
“But crazy is the best way to be,” Brooks says, leaning down to tickle her sides.
She laughs, running to hide behind her dad.
I don’t know what kind of Wheaties Brooks ate this morning for breakfast, but he’s playing like he gets paid millions of dollars to do this for a living.
He’s single-handedly carrying the rest of our team on his back tonight.
With the score tied 4-4 in the bottom of the ninth, he steps up to bat with a smirk on his face like he already knows what’s going to happen. He connects with the first pitch, knocking it out of the park.
Our entire team erupts, running out onto the field like we just won the World Series.
Austin scoops Evelyn up, putting her on his shoulders, before we meet Brooks at home plate as he rounds the bases.
“It’s a sign,” he shouts. “I know what I’m doing before every game now.”
Okay, then…
We all celebrate for a few minutes and shake hands with the other team. With all our stuff packed up, we head toward the parking lot.
“So, what are you going to do before every game to keep playing like that?” Austin asks.
“What was your good-luck charm?” Evelyn chimes in, running circles around all of us.
“A very pretty girl,” he says wistfully, swinging his bag into his truck.
A girl? Since when is he seeing anyone?
I freeze, connecting the dots of everything he’s said tonight.
Is he talking about Hadley?