13. Killian
KILLIAN
“Why aren’t you driving again?”
Isla smirks at me from the passenger seat as she gestures up ahead. “Because Diane and I are friends now and I like the ride. Turn right at the next light.”
She’s been leading me through the streets of a small neighborhood on the outskirts of the city, reluctant to tell me where we’re going.
I should have just pulled over and refused to go any further until she told me what she’s up to.
But when she texted earlier and said she had planned a surprise outing just for me…
an outing that isn’t going to be in front of cameras or baseball executives…
my curiosity was piqued. I could have told her I wasn’t interested.
After all, the relationship we have is platonic and only meant to look otherwise in front of people.
So, call it morbid curiosity with a side of mild attraction that has me presently following her directions
That and Isla Fallon is fucking cute when she’s excited.
“Did you forget that we don’t talk about Diane?”
She laughs. “No, you don’t talk about Diane. I, on the other hand, am constantly talking about her and to her.” She rubs the dashboard and gives it a loving pat of her hand. “It’s ok, Sis. He can hate you all he wants. I appreciate you.”
“You know you’re talking to a motorized vehicle, right? She doesn’t have feelings.”
She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Tell me you’ve never seen a Pixar movie without telling me you’ve never seen a Pixar movie.” She gestures one more time out the window. “Take a left on Dillard.”
Practically bouncing in her seat, she claps her hands together when I turn onto Dillard and head up the hill.
We pass a sign that says no outlet which makes me wonder if we’re lost, but the happy, excited look on Isla’s face tells me she knows right where we are.
When we reach the top of the hill, the area opens into a huge field divided into several community baseball fields.
“What is this place?”
“Dillard Park,” Isla tells me. “I used to play on these fields when I was a kid.” My heart constricts when she smiles remembering parts of her childhood as we pull up.
“Hold on…” My foot finds the brake before my brain catches up, the SUV rolling to a stop halfway into the lot.
I recognize Shepherd first, then Sutton and Sebastian standing beside him.
And then I’m doing a slow count of the rest—Alaric, Carter, Brock, Layton, Jude, Paxton—all of them just standing around, like they all just ended up here for no reason.
Mackenzie Adams, our team chef, has her truck backed up to the edge of the grass with what looks like half a catering setup going. Bishop is with her, of course, and there’s someone next to her I don’t recognize, passing her things.
“Who is—”
“Oh, that’s Tara. My roommate.” She tells me as she waves at everyone waiting for us.
When I finally pull into a spot and glance at Isla, she’s watching me with this barely contained excitement on her face. “What did you do, Coach?”
“You’ll see.” She beams, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening her door. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.” She flies out of the SUV and immediately gives a hug to Sutton and then to Shepherd and Sebastian. I watch, jealous of each one of them as I follow her.
Fuck, why do I care that they’re getting hugs from my pretend girlfriend?
As we approach the group, Shepherd breaks away from the others and joins me. “Took you long enough,” he says, clapping me on the back. “We were starting to think you chickened out.”
“I’d have to know what I was chickening out of first,” I say, still trying to process that my girlfriend—fake or otherwise—organized this whole thing, whatever it is, for me. “I still don’t know what I’m doing here. Did you know about this?”
“Of course.” Shepherd’s grin softens into something quieter, more serious.
“Who do you think she called first?” He watches Isla for a moment, the way you watch something you don’t want to look away from.
“She wanted to know what you were like before, Kill. Before all the noise.” He turns back to me.
“And she wants you to be able to remember too.”
Sebastian opens the back of his truck and pulls a tote down for Isla. She lifts the lid and then gives Seb a high five.
“Alright, Coach. Enough is enough. What are we doing here?” I ask a few paces behind Isla.
She giggles and then reaches into the tote, pulling out a large red plastic bat. “Whiffle ball!”
I chuckle as a goofy grin crosses my face. “What?”
“I planned a whiffle ball game,” Isla says, her green eyes dancing with mischief. “Just for you.”
I stare at the field where my teammates are standing around, laughing like they haven’t got a care in the world and suddenly something pulls taut behind my ribs, like a knot I didn’t know was there finally catching.
“You did all this? For me?”
“Don’t look so shocked.” She nudges my shoulder. “I’m capable of nice things, you know.”
“But why?”
She shrugs like it’s the easiest explanation. “I thought it might be nice to play without all the pressure for once. You know…give you a chance to remember who you are when people aren’t watching you.”
I stare at her, completely dumbfounded. She planned this. All of it. She got my brothers, my teammates, even Mackenzie with her catering truck, all here, just for me.
“Whiffle ball?”
The smile on her face is contagious. “Yeah. Because I wouldn’t stand a chance if we were playing baseball. Let’s be real, Haynesy.”
I take one look at the girl standing in front of me and can’t help myself.
I close the distance in one step, my hand finding the curve of her jaw, my thumb brushing her cheekbone.
I don’t think about who’s watching or what this looks like or whether it’s going to blow our cover.
I don’t think at all. I just lean down and press my mouth to hers.
It’s nothing like the kiss at the stadium.
That one was desperate, frantic, me grabbing onto something solid because I was drowning.
This one is slow. This one is tender and deliberate as my mouth moves against hers.
This one means something more than she could ever realize because Isla Fallon, with her bright red hair and her cute little freckles and her stupid beautiful optimism, looked at me and decided I was worth the effort, and that does something to me.
She makes that small sound again—the one that’s been living rent-free in my head for weeks—and her fingers curl into the front of my shirt like she’s afraid I might pull away.
So, I don’t pull away. Instead, I let my forehead rest against hers, our breath mingling in the small space between us. Her eyes are still closed, those long copper lashes fanning across her cheeks, and I can feel her pulse hammering beneath my thumb where it still rests against her jaw.
“Thank you,” I whisper, the words feeling inadequate for what she’s given me.
“Of course.” She smiles up at me. “What are friends for?”
I huff out a laugh but lower my voice so only she can hear. “I think you know you’re more than just a friend, Coach. And I can’t believe I’m saying this…” I place my lips right by her ear and claim, “but I’m starting to really fucking like when you call me Haynesy.”
God, I want to kiss the adorable little smirk that appears right off her face as she confirms, “Noted.”
“So, you’re playing too then?” I ask, stepping back and taking her hand in mine.
“Hell yeah, I’m playing,” she says confidently as we walk toward the field. I notice the way she’s limping slightly and wonder how she’ll handle running the bases. “And so is everybody here.” She gestures to my teammates. “But there’s just one catch.”
Carter brings his hands to his hips listening to Isla as she speaks to the group. “What catch?”
“None of you can play the positions you’re used to playing.”
There are both groans and cheers of excitement throughout the group.
“Because, duh, that’s all you ever do,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“This game is about having fun. Remembering why you love playing. It’s not about being the best...
or any good at all, really. So, you have to play a position you don’t get paid to play, and we’re not keeping score. We go until we’re tired.”
“Or until Haynes wins, obviously,” Alaric jokes.
“Which one?” Carter laughs. “There are literally four Haynes boys on the field right now.”
The thought of my brothers being here and spending time doing this with me brings back memories of our childhood. Of playing in the yard so late that Mom would have to yell at us to come in. Fuck, those were the days. Living carefree and loving the potential of a sports-filled future.
“And there’s food and plenty of it, so eat up whenever you’re hungry,” Mackenzie tells the group.
Mackenzie Adams is the rare jewel in our organization because she has two pro-athlete brothers.
Brock Adams plays on our team and her other brother, Kyler, plays with Shep on the Portland Rush football team.
Not only that but she works as the head chef for both teams. The things she does for our organizations are incredible.
There’s not a guy around both stadiums who doesn’t love and appreciate Mackenzie Adams.
Alaric steps forward, his hand raised in the air. “So, like, if I was hungry right now I could literally make a sandwich and hold it in my hand while we play?”
Mackenzie laughs but Isla nods her head. “You’re an adult. You do you, Alaric.”
“Oh, fuck yeah!” He cheers before he heads right to the table to make himself a sandwich.
Paxton nods too. “Hell, yes.”
“Holding a sandwich while playing ball,” Jude says, his eyes wide and his hand over his heart. “This might be the best day of my life.”
I watch as the guys immediately swarm Mackenzie’s truck, eager to grab snacks before the game starts. Bishop catches my eye from across the field and gives me a knowing nod. I can’t help but smile back.