18. Chapter 18
I knock on the glass sliding door before cracking it open without looking. “Are you decent?”
I’ve been out on the balcony for half an hour waiting for Alyssa to get ready.
It feels like fate that we’re stuck in this room together this week.
I’ll take any reason to spend more time with Alyssa.
More time equals more opportunities to flirt and test the waters of growing our friendship into something more.
“Yeah, I’m just about ready. You can come in.”
I turn and step inside, immediately sighing when the air conditioning hits my skin. I pull the door shut behind me, and then I spot her. A vision in white that has me weak in the knees, thinking about her walking toward me in white for an entirely different reason.
She’s wearing a white linen tank top that has a split from her belly button down, showing a little bit of her tanned skin.
She’s paired it with matching pants and has her hair still curled and down.
But this time, she has the front pieces of her hair braided back and a white-and-blue floral silk scarf woven throughout the braid.
I run a hand over my mouth, at a loss for words.
“Does this look okay?” She turns and looks at herself in the full-length mirror. “I never go for an all-white outfit.”
“You look amazing.”
Alyssa smiles at me. “Really?”
I nod. “Every man will be envious that you’re on my arm tonight.”
“We’re already friends, you don’t have to butter me up.”
“Trust me, I’m not.” I wish she could see herself the same way I see her.
“Thanks.” She gestures to my outfit. “You clean up well, too.”
I glance down at my white button-down tucked into my white chinos and paired with white sneakers. “I feel like a marshmallow.”
Alyssa laughs, and the sound is better than the ocean waves crashing against the shore. “A cute marshmallow.” She steps closer and peers up at me through her dark lashes. “May I?”
May she what? What does she want to do? my brain screams as my mouth goes dry.
I nod, unable to form words.
Alyssa reaches up and unbuttons the top buttons of my dress shirt.
Her eyes drag down to my chest, and I watch her swallow hard.
Is that a sign? I hate to admit it, but I could really use Fletch’s insight right about now.
I’ve been out of the dating game for so many years that I’m oblivious to signs of attraction.
“There.” She clears her throat and readjusts my collar. “With a little bit of your chest showing, you look more like a movie star than a marshmallow.” She motions to the mirror. “Do you want to check?”
“I trust you.” My lips tilt into a smile. Besides, if the way she was staring is any indication, having a portion of my pecs on display tonight will work in my favor.
She heads back into the bathroom. “I just need to put on some lip gloss, then we can go.”
I don’t understand why she needs to apply lip gloss when there’s a barbecue immediately following the welcome party, but who am I to judge a woman’s fashion choices? Maybe she enjoys the taste of her lip gloss mixed with jerk chicken.
As we arrive outside and approach the group of people already gathered, Alyssa fidgets with the stacked gold bracelets on her wrist. I reach over and intertwine my fingers with hers. It feels so natural, holding her hand. I could definitely get used to this.
“You’ve got this.”
She glances up at me, appreciation in her eyes. “We’ve got this.”
“Do we need to get our stories straight before we see your family?”
Alyssa turns, pulling us to a stop, her eyes wide.
I run a hand along my scruff. “Just tell me what I need to be. Do you want me to act like your friend or your boyfriend around your parents and sister?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t want you to act at all.”
If only I could tell her that I don’t have to fake anything.
Not around her.
She bumps my hip with hers, though it’s more like her hip nudges my thigh with our height difference. “Do you think you can manage just being yourself? My family already loves you.”
I dip my head. “Yeah, sure.”
Her shoulders fall in relief. I wish I could carry the weight of everything for her so she didn’t have to. Maybe one day she’ll let me.
“Great. Let’s go before we’re really late.” She releases my hand and heads toward the welcome party.
I follow after her like a dutiful friend. If being her shadow today is what will help her most, I’ll do it. I’ll be whatever she needs as long as it means I get to be in her orbit.
“You made it!” Alyssa’s mother pulls her in for a hug. When she spots me over her daughter’s shoulder, her smile beams even brighter, and the wrinkles around her eyes deepen, evidence of a life well lived and loved. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing Austin.”
“It was a last-minute thing,” Alyssa says.
Mrs. Cartwright pulls back and opens her arms to me. “Well, it’s great to see you.”
I step into her embrace. Receiving this motherly affection from her makes a lump form in my throat.
Being so far from my family during the season is harder on me than I ever let on, but Alyssa’s parents have included me in holidays and family gatherings for the past three years.
They’ve always made me feel like I belong, and it’s meant more to me than I can express.
“It’s been too long, Mrs. Cartwright.” I squeeze her small frame.
She shoots me a scolding look. “Jen,” I amend.
“Sorry, I’m still getting used to that.” Growing up, my parents always instilled the importance of calling other adults by an honorific.
It’s a hard habit to break, even now that I’m an adult.
But I still have to use honorifics every day.
I can’t even imagine if I called Coach by his first name…
let’s just say it wouldn’t go over well.
Jen turns and calls for her husband before smoothing her shoulder-length blonde hair. “Scott.”
Alyssa’s father smiles when he sees us. “Hey, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to Alyssa’s cheek, then shakes my hand. “Austin.”
“Mr.”—I catch myself this time—“Scott.”
“Jen didn’t tell me you would be here.”
Standing next to each other, Jen looks young with her fashionable hairstyle—courtesy of Alyssa—while Scott’s hairline is receding, and his light brown hair is peppered with grays that shine in the sunlight.
It feels like I’m looking at Alyssa and myself in thirty years’ time. The thought makes me smile even wider.
Jen wraps her arms around Scott’s waist. “That’s because I didn’t know, dear.”
Scott claps my shoulder. “You played one heck of a game yesterday, son.”
“Thanks, it was nice to finally beat the Sharks.”
He nods. “That no-hitter was brutal, but y’all came out full force, and it showed.”
My brows furrow. “Wait, I thought you flew in yesterday?”
“I streamed it in our room.” Scott grins. “Let me tell you, watching baseball with the balcony door open and the Caribbean as a backdrop is how it should be done.”
“That sounds dreamy,” Alyssa says.
“The real dream is getting to spend the next few days here.” I look around at the large pools and the ocean beyond.
I love baseball. It’s not just my career; it’s my life.
But I’m thankful for this short mid-season break, even if it’s only for a few days.
The nonstop games and traveling have started to take a toll the older I get.
It makes me feel bad for Cooper. I’m only twenty-eight, and I’m feeling it, but he’s thirty-three, so he must live on ice baths and as much sleep as he can get.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Jen agrees.
Our conversation is cut off when a man and woman approach. I’d bet my entire sign-on bonus that they’re Bradley’s parents. They just have that snooty aura about them, from their clothes to the way they walk.
Alyssa wraps her slender fingers around my arm. I’m not sure if it’s to pretend we’re dating or if she needs to lean into my strength.
“When Alyssa mentioned she was bringing Austin Bradford to the wedding, I just had to see it with my own eyes to believe it,” Mrs. Vanderbilt tuts.
“I have some ideas on how you can improve your batting average. Maybe we can discuss it over a game of golf one of these mornings?” Mr. Vanderbilt puffs his chest, attempting to stand taller, but I still tower over him.
I sling my arm over Alyssa’s shoulder, wanting to make the real reason I’m here apparent. “Our schedule is pretty booked up with the wedding festivities, but I appreciate the thought.”
Mr. Vanderbilt’s cocky demeanor falters for only a second before his slimy grin is back in place. “Once we’re back in Louisville then.”
“What are your”—Mrs. Vanderbilt tilts her head, in search of the right word—“relations with Alyssa?” She stares down her nose at Alyssa like she already knows the answer but can’t quite believe it.
I want to tell her right where she can go shove her snooty nose, but that doesn’t seem like it would bode well for Alyssa, so I clench my fist at my side and take a deep breath before responding. “I’m her date.”
Mrs. Vanderbilt’s lips pinch, making her look like she smelled something rotten. It was probably just her shriveled heart, since she clearly doesn’t have one. “And how long have you two been…together?”
Alyssa’s mom looks between us with a raised brow, but she doesn’t say anything. Although, I’m sure she’ll have questions for her daughter later.
“I’m sure your son already told you everything.
” I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of answering.
She stares me down like she’s trying to give me the stink eye, but she just looks constipated since her eyebrows don’t move a centimeter.
I’m definitely not going to be intimidated by a middle-aged woman with enough work done to her face that it barely moves.
“He did,” Mrs. Vanderbilt admits. “But it’s always wise to check with the original source.”
We’re a couple, not a business deal. A fake one, but I hope that’s not the case by the end of this week. Not that she deserves to know any of that.