Chapter 4
Trevor
Don’t punch your teammate. Don’t punch your teammate. Don’t punch your teammate.
That mantra is the only thing keeping me from striding up the aisle of the team plane and socking Aaron in his smug jaw.
My hand clutches the end of the armrest intermittently, my knuckles turning white from the effort to remain seated.
The only thing keeping me from fully losing it is Kai in the window seat beside me.
He asked how Kenzie was doing as soon as we took off and then offered to send Mallory over to check on her.
Thank goodness for Wi-Fi calls on this flight.
Otherwise, I would have lost my mind worrying about her.
Kenzie is relatively new to the area, moving to Virginia Beach after graduating from her master’s program because she’d always wanted to live near the ocean.
It’s brave, really, her moving to a brand-new city where she knew no one while also starting a business.
She also moved away from her only family when she left their farm in upstate New York.
I also left my family behind when I signed with the Waves, but Kenzie’s parents actually care about her.
She’ll often FaceTime with her parents while I’m around.
They are exactly how Kenzie describes them—quirky organic farmers who try to keep their homestead as self-sustainable as possible.
Since she went to a small college near her family’s farm while living at home, Kenzie said they didn’t have a cell phone until she moved here.
Even now, they share one and only use it to video call her.
Even though she’s not close by, they take care of her in little ways, sending bulbs for the garden I set aside for her in the backyard.
This summer, it should be bursting with peonies, ranunculus, and dahlias.
In June, they shipped Kenzie fresh clover honey.
We drizzled it on everything from waffles to pizza.
It’s surprisingly good on Pizza Diavola.
We also get semi-regular deliveries of artisanal cheese from their dairy goats.
“She’s fine, man. Let go of the armrest before you damage it.”
Kai’s voice brings me back to the quiet hush of the plane. Some players are plugged into movies or video games. A few are reviewing tape in preparation for tomorrow’s game, but most are relaxing.
“Sorry.” I release my stranglehold on the seat. “Thanks again for letting me talk to Mallory earlier.”
“No problem. I can’t believe Aaron hung Kenzie out to dry like that. The way Mal spoke about their relationship, you’d think he was crazy about her.”
Kenzie never brought up their relationship, and I never asked—mostly because I couldn’t stomach it—but the gratuitous roses in my house would suggest the same.
The floral guy came by so often I knew his grandkids’ names.
Aaron would also send Kenzie silver necklaces and bracelets with his number on them, even though her personal jewelry is exclusively yellow gold.
I mindlessly finger the gold chain around my neck—the one I haven’t taken off since I was twelve. “It’s obvious from what she said on top of the dugout that the breakup was a surprise.”
I still remember the most important part of it—'dumped by your assistant.’
If you decide not to marry the woman you’ve asked to be your wife, you should have the decency to explain your change of heart in person.
Having someone else end the relationship during a nationally publicized baseball game is not only cowardly, it has the potential to backfire—as evidenced by all the video clips of Kenzie in my arms.
Kai swats my hand away from the armrest before I crack the plastic beneath the leather.
“She’s better off.”
“Undoubtedly,” I say through gritted teeth.
Kai tilts his head. “It’s weird because I had no idea they were even dating. Mal told me when she found out last week, and at first, I doubted her. Because when I thought about the few times I’d seen Kenzie and Aaron together, like at your Christmas party, they never seemed like a couple.”
I try to keep my face impassive. As her supposedly unaffected roommate, I should probably have insight on this.
But honestly, I’d avoided Aaron at the Christmas party because I didn’t want to see him wrap an arm around her waist or, worse, kiss her.
I’d chatted with Kenzie when she’d been by herself a few times, but mostly I busied myself with hosting.
Kenzie and I talk about everything…except Aaron.
She never brought their relationship up, and I never pried.
It’d been a master class in avoidance. I told myself I was giving Kenzie her privacy, but really, I was saving myself the heartache.
I didn’t even know she was engaged until her slender fingers were broadcast onto the jumbotron yesterday.
It’d been a good thing I already had my catcher’s mask on because my scowl would have terrified all the children in the stadium.
My mouth opens, but I’m saved from having to answer when our manager, Patrick Howard, positions himself at the front of the aisle.
“Alright, fellas. Great start to the season. Let’s keep it going. We’ve got everything we need right here in this plane—each other.” His bushy salt-and-pepper mustache twitches as the corner of his mouth kicks up.
I swear, this is Patrick’s favorite thing to do once we level off. We have ample time to have a team meeting once we arrive in Charlotte, but our manager loves leaning against the side of the plane, giving his speech over the PA system.
“Let’s focus and keep that energy up in Charlotte and Atlanta. It’s never too early to be thinking about the postseason.” At this, he breaks into a full smile.
We lost the Wild Card Series by one run last season, and everyone is itching for a chance to make it to the Division Series or beyond this year.
I draw in a deep, settling breath while listening to the man who’s successfully turned this team around during his tenure. Patrick advocated for not only my first but my second six-year contract after I’d proved my worth years ago. I’d calmly walk into fire for him—so would most of my teammates.
Patrick says something else that makes Kai shout in agreement, but all I can focus on is the rapid-fire texts lighting up my phone.
Kenzie
I know you said not to Google myself, but Mallory offhandedly mentioned something about media coverage, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom and…
Kenzie
I’m so sorry. I never meant to embarrass you.
Kenzie
Do you want me to move out?
Kenzie
I should probably move out.
I stand, completely ignoring whatever top-tier motivation Patrick is telling everyone else, and stride toward the bathroom. The door barely closes before I select call and press the phone to my ear.
“Trevor, I—”
But I don’t let Kenzie finish, not when her voice cracks like she’d been crying.
“Don’t move out.” After realizing how gruff I sound, I soften my tone. “You don’t need to move out. And you didn’t embarrass me.”
I want to say that the only person who should be embarrassed is Aaron, but I hold my tongue.
When Kenzie just sniffles, I continue. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I thought…I thought he loved me.” Her watery words feel like a bat to the chest.
My forehead falls against the door with a clunk. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Quiet settles between us for a few beats.
“He didn’t break it off a long time ago,” she says, voice quiet.
“You shouting on top of the dugout made that clear.”
She hiccups. “But then why does everyone believe the lies he told?”
“Because he’s a well-known person in a position of power, and you’re…”
…sweetness personified…sunshine wrapped in cozy pink socks.
“...nobody,” she finishes for me.
“No.” My eyes press closed as I mentally tell myself to get a grip. I need to be here for Kenzie, not get caught up in how much I like her.
“It’s just that his access to the press means—”
“Kenzie?” Mallory’s voice sounds in the distance before two firm knocks.
“Occupied,” Kenzie replies automatically.
My lips twitch upward. “Are you hiding in the bathroom?”
“No,” she tells me, obviously lying. “Maybe.”
I chuckle. “Me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a slight smile in her voice. “Aren’t we a pair?”
I wish.
“He said I was a distraction,” she says, switching back in the conversation. “But all the wives and girlfriends get to go to games. Mallory is practically a megaphone, she’s so loud.”
“Darn straight,” a muffled Mallory says from the other side of the door.
“He asked me to leave,” she whispers.
My hand fists so tightly my nails make impressions on my palm.
“Listen,” I start, deciding to be honest about this. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d be proud to have you in the stands. I’d probably play better knowing you were there cheering me on.”
“Really?” Her hopeful tone shatters something fundamental inside me.
“Absolutely. And I’d make sure you were wearing my jersey with my name across your shoulders so everyone knew you belonged to me.”
Kenzie’s soft Oh makes me realize I went too far.
I clear my throat of its roughness. “That’s why Mallory always wears Kai’s jersey over a tank. Lots of girlfriends and wives do that.”
“Sure. That makes sense,” Kenzie says, like she’s nodding to herself.
“Kenzie, honey. Let’s come out of the bathroom, okay? Let’s eat some delicious sushi and get some fresh air? Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Listen to Mallory. Let her take care of you, okay?” I straighten, mentally shifting gears. “I need to get back to the team meeting.”
“You left a team meeting to call me?”
My heart does that painful squeeze that I’m almost used to by now.
“Of course I did.”