Chapter 2
Trevor
Iwatch the slow-mo playback again, trying not to shiver in the ice bath in my home gym.
The catch from last night’s game is the only thing the analysts on Diamond Breakdown have been talking about this morning.
I’ve even toggled between The Early Innings and Morning on the Mound, and it’s all the same.
Men in suits comment on my hands, reflexes, and athleticism.
That’s pretty typical, but this time, it’s because I kept my roommate from breaking her neck when she teetered off the top of the dugout.
I should be grateful they’re saying something positive about me instead of speculating when I’ll finally retire.
I’ve heard the terms ‘team veteran’ and ‘grizzled legend’ more times than I can count.
At thirty-six, I’m the oldest player on the team.
Even though my knees sound like pepper grinders when I squat into position, I still hold some of the best stats in the National League.
And that’s with coming back from that nasty ulna break four years ago when a rookie Pioneers player barreled into me.
Still, my contract is up after this season, so everyone is speculating about my future with the Waves.
“Just another great catch by veteran Trevor Chapman,” Alan McRae says through a growing grin. “What a way to end a homestand series.”
He then goes to game stats from our first six games of the season—three narrow wins against the Titans before crushing the Wolves.
“It was certainly an eventful game,” Jessy Riggins adds. “That woman was lucky he was there.”
“That woman is allegedly Aaron Lawson’s fiancée,” Rick Humphrey adds.
“Former fiancée.”
They roll a post-game clip of Aaron explaining that he and Kenzie had broken up a long time ago, and her showing up at the game, flashing her ring, was a desperate cry for attention. Aaron dragging Kenzie’s name through the mud isn’t unexpected, but it still makes my blood boil.
Thank goodness for this frigid ice bath.
“Maybe these two should get an introduction.” Alan smirks. “They’ve got instant chemistry.”
The playback pauses a millisecond after I caught Kenzie in my arms. The worried look on my face melts away the second she laughs. I look delighted—enraptured, even.
“Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman falls into your arms.”
I click off the TV as they chuckle.
The sentiment was the same on several other channels. Only Denise Colson of The Early Innings showed any sympathy for Kenzie. Everyone else used it as a joke. Just another reason I’m glad I’m caked in ice.
My jerk teammate lied to the press, and everyone bought it.
I’m not surprised, but that doesn’t make me any less irritated.
Aaron is the team’s rising star, but it’s been a struggle dealing with his ego since last season.
Usually, the relationship between a pitcher and a catcher is one of the most magical parts of baseball—the two of us working in tandem, almost as one person.
But Aaron doesn’t trust my guidance, and things between us have never flowed like they have with other pitchers.
With a groan, I pull myself out of the bath.
I need to find Kenzie before I have to leave at noon for the first of six away games, starting in Charlotte tomorrow.
When I’d finally gotten home last night, Kenzie’s door had been closed with her sound machine on full blast. It was still going this morning when I woke for my morning jog to shake out some of the incessant soreness before a light recovery workout in my home gym.
Usually, I can find my roommate outside as soon as the sun rises—a holdover from her upbringing on her family’s farm.
What was even more alarming was that Banks, my calico cat, wasn’t tucked away with her.
He usually sleeps with her every night, but he came looking for me first thing this morning with a forlorn expression.
After a quick shower, I head toward the kitchen.
Kenzie’s hair is pulled into a braid as she mixes cocoa powder into a bowl.
My stomach reflexively growls, but Kenzie can’t hear it.
Pink noise-canceling headphones cover her ears.
Her arm whips the batter while facing the large windows that showcase dozens of mature trees and the estuary beyond my property line.
“I am capable,” Kenzie says before pausing.
The realization that she’s doing her daily affirmations makes hope soar in my chest. Maybe she hasn’t checked the news and heard Aaron’s lies yet.
Maybe she hasn’t seen her fall from grace remixed into hundreds of social media clips and nasty memes.
I know firsthand how cruel the trolls of the internet can be, and from a quick perusal, it wasn’t pretty.
I want to keep Kenzie from all of that, blocking her like I’d stop a wry pitch.
“I release what I can’t control.”
“Good sentiment,” I murmur, stepping closer.
“I trust the timing in my life.”
I nearly snort. Timing on the field is something that’s always come easy for me, but the timing of the rest of my life is a disjointed mess.
Case in point: Kenzie. I’d been attracted to her the second she scratched behind Banks’s lost ear, but I reminded myself it’s inappropriate to ask out someone who works for me.
Then I doubled down on making Kenzie off-limits by using her as my CPA.
And when she got into a housing bind, I decided to torture myself by offering her a room in the guest wing.
Her dating Aaron had been the blow I hadn’t seen coming.
I’d known that first week, when he’d sent roses, even though Kenzie prefers ranunculus.
At our next practice, Aaron acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but I guess from his perspective, it wasn’t.
After all, no one knows that I’ve been harboring feelings for my roommate for over a year.
“I believe in myself and my abilities.”
“I’ve never met anyone as smart as you,” I say, taking a step closer.
The way Kenzie’s brain processes numbers makes mine spin.
She gets this adorable wrinkle between her brows when doing math then this little smirk once she’s solved something complicated.
It’s nothing short of breathtaking. I have, on occasion, pretended to be answering team texts on my phone as she worked on taxes, just to see that slight lip twitch.
“I am beautiful.” Kenzie mutters this like she didn’t really want to say it, but I’ve long since learned that she’s a rule follower.
“No,” I whisper. “You’re gorgeous…to the point where it hurts most days.”
Kenzie wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist. “I— I deserve good things.”
“You deserve the best of every—”
My sentence cuts off when I near Kenzie sniffle. Then my body acts without permission from my brain. I crowd Kenzie, my chest an inch from her back, my hands clenching the marble countertop on either side of her.
I’d never touched Kenzie before I caught her last night. Not an innocent bump in the hallways or a brush of hands as we both reach for the coffee pot. Nothing. The first and only time I’d touched my roommate had been shaking her hand at her interview to pet-sit Banks.
But now, I’m standing entirely too close, my restraint seconds from collapsing because Kenzie is crying. Even though I’d anticipated this, it’s so much worse seeing it in person. I’m torn between the impulse to gather Kenzie to my chest and to drive to Aaron’s house and punch him in the face.
“Oh, hi.” Kenzie tilts her head to look up at me, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. “I’m making a chocolate cake. I might have”—she bites her lip as she pulls down her headphones—“I might have accidentally cried into the batter.”
Everything hurts. Absolutely everything is excruciating seeing her this upset.
When she squeezes her eyes shut, my palms spin Kenzie’s shoulders before pulling her into a tight hug. A light Oh escapes her lips, but then she rests her cheek on my chest and really lets go. Her shoulders shake beneath my firm grip as tears wet my t-shirt.
I’d rather play a double header in the midday heat than watch Kenzie cry.
The helplessness gnawing at my gut has me rubbing soothing circles between her heaving shoulder blades and murmuring reassurances.
After what feels like a heartbreaking eternity, Kenzie quiets.
Then she ducks her chin as her cheeks pink.
I usually love seeing that slight blush on her face, but my brows quirk seeing it now.
“What is it?” My voice sounds like gravel being tossed in a dry cement mixer.
“I made a mess of your shirt.”
“I’ve got other ones.”
“But this one is your favorite.”
I glance down at my faded The White Stripes tour shirt that I’d bought my freshman year of college. It’s the only graphic shirt I own that isn’t baseball themed. The navy fabric is slightly darker now that it’s damp.
“I don’t care.”
Another soft Oh escapes her lips. They’re even pinker than usual, like she’s been chewing on them all morning. I feel like a complete scumbag when my attention snags on her mouth for two halting seconds.
Dragging my focus back to her eyes, I ask, “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Yes,” she says with a relieved exhale, leaning her cheek on my chest again.
A grin blooms at my small victory. I learned early on that Kenzie likes to dissolve into the world of Marvel when she’s sick or exhausted—a habit she picked up in her teen years.
She’d often invite me to join her in the at-home movie theater in the guest wing.
I’d been surprised to find that when given the option between Captain America, Iron Man, or Thor, Kenzie prefers Ant Man, saying she likes how he makes her laugh.
“Wait.” Kenzie lifts her chin to look at me again. “No. I can’t. I’m making a cake.”
If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to make it later, but Kenzie likes to finish whatever she starts.
“Can I help?”
She shakes her head. “No. That’s nice of you to offer, but it’d defeat the purpose since it’s a Thank you cake.”
“A Thank you cake?”
The blush is back. “Yeah. For, um, catching me.”
I don’t say that I hadn’t wanted to let go of her last night.
I don’t tell her that I’d been so worried after she’d been swept into the clubhouse by Aaron that I’d struck out for the first time in nine games.
I don’t brush my knuckles along the pink sweeping her cheekbones, finally discovering if her skin is as soft as it looks.
Instead, I get a grip and step back, putting some distance between us. Kenzie was very publicly dumped by her fiancé last night. Now is not the time to act on the feelings I’ve been suppressing for a year.
“You don’t need to thank me with cake.” I tuck my hands into the pockets of my gray sweatpants because otherwise I’m afraid I’ll reach for her again.
“I want to. You’ve done so much for me. You’re seriously like the big brother I never had.”
This phrase is another reason why I didn’t act on my feelings before Kenzie started dating Aaron. She doesn’t see me as anything but an older brother.
I pull up the corner of my mouth, even though it feels like my ribs are shattering. “In that case, can I get double icing? I feel like protective big brothers deserve extra icing.”
Kenzie’s beaming smile almost makes the charade worth it.