23. Killian
KILLIAN
Loving someone who’s afraid to love you back means you have to learn to read the silences between their words.
I’ve gotten pretty good at it.
Isla hasn’t said it yet. Not out loud, not in those three specific words that would make my entire world see in full color.
But she doesn’t have to. I see it in the way she presses her cheek against my chest when she thinks I’m asleep.
I hear it in the way her voice goes soft and private when she calls me Kill instead of Killian.
I feel it every single time she reaches for my hand without looking, like her body has memorized the geography of mine and can find it in the dark.
She loves me. I know she does.
And I’m okay with waiting. I’ll wait until the seasons change and change again if that’s what it takes, because for me, Isla Fallon isn’t a stop on the way to somewhere else. She’s it for me. She’s the destination. She’s the whole goddamn map.
The mere thought of a forever with Isla sits warm and solid in my soul as I toss another burger on the grill, the late August sun casting long shadows across Shepherd and Sutton’s backyard.
The team’s been on a tear lately—six wins in our last eight games—and with playoffs just a few weeks away, the energy around the clubhouse has shifted from hopeful to hungry.
The kind of hungry that makes you wake up at 4 AM thinking about the next pitch, the next inning, the next game.
“Hey Kill! That better be medium rare or I’m sending it back!” Bishop calls from the patio where he’s holding court with half the bullpen, a beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.
I flip the patty with practiced precision. “It’s mooing at me as we speak, bro. Besides, you’ll eat it however it comes, or you’ll starve.”
The team erupts in laughter as Bishop clutches his heart in mock offense.
I catch Isla’s eye across the yard where she’s helping Sutton arrange platters of corn on the cob and potato salad.
Mackenzie whipped up some baked beans and a fruit salad, and the moment she pops out to the yard with her dishes in hand, Bishop is on his feet all too willing to help.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Bishop says, practically tripping over himself to take the tray from Mackenzie’s hands. “You shouldn’t be carrying all this heavy stuff.”
Mackenzie raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. “It’s a fruit salad, Bishop. I think I can handle it.”
“Oh, I know you can handle it,” he replies with a wink that makes half the team groan. “But why should you when I’m here?”
I shake my head, turning back to the grill. My brother’s been ogling Mackenzie since she arrived, and while I’m not sure if it’s genuine interest or just Bishop being Bishop, it’s entertaining as hell to watch.
“Your brother’s got it bad,” Sutton says, sidling up next to me with another plate of burgers ready for cooking. “Has he always been this obvious?”
I laugh, flipping another patty. “I don’t know if you know this about us, Sutton, but apparently subtlety isn’t exactly in the Haynes DNA.”
She laughs. “You don’t say.” She nods toward where Isla is now laughing with the guys. “She say it yet?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“You okay with that?”
“I have to be.” I shrug, keeping my focus on the grill. “I know it’s in there. I see it. I feel it. I hear it when she talks. She’s worth waiting for, so I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
Sutton leans against the railing next to me, her gaze following mine to where Isla is now doubled over laughing at something Sebastian just said. “You really love her, don’t you?”
I glance at Isla again, watching the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her whole face lights up when she smiles. “She’s the one, Sutton.”
“I believe you,” Sutton says softly. “Just promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t let her go without a fight. If she tries to leave because she’s scared, you fight for her.”
The words hit me harder than they should because there’s a lot of truth to what Sutton just said.
“I won’t,” I promise, though the thought of Isla leaving steals my breath. “I can’t.”
I do think Isla is scared. For as happy and carefree as she is on the outside, I think she battles an unspoken fear and has for the last several years. The fear of losing everything and everyone she loves. But I won’t leave her. I’ll never leave her. I love her too much.
Shepherd appears beside us, sliding an arm around Sutton’s waist. “What are you two conspiring about over here?”
“Just telling Killian how obvious his brother is being,” Sutton says, nodding toward Bishop, who’s now helping Mackenzie arrange napkins with an enthusiasm that’s almost comical.
Shepherd laughs. “Bishop? Subtle? Those two words have never been in the same sentence. And speaking of obvious,” he says, nodding toward where Isla is standing with the team. Even from here, I can see the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. “She’s fitting in pretty well, huh?”
“Better than I could have hoped,” I admit. “The team loves her.”
“Everyone loves her,” Sutton corrects, a knowing smile on her face. “Including a certain pitcher I know.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Seriously though,” Shepherd says, his tone sobering. “She’s really good for you, Kill. You’re different this season.”
I nod, turning back to the grill to hide the emotion I’m sure is written all over my face. “She is.”
“You gonna do something about it before the season ends?” Shepherd asks, watching me as I work the grill.
Do something about it?
What? Like put a ring on it?
Fuck, I haven’t really thought that far, nor do I think Isla is ready for anything like that.
“Guess we’ll see how things go,” I say, though the familiar knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach at the thought.
A burst of laughter from across the yard draws my attention. Sebastian and Brock are standing on the patio ledge, mocking me as Alaric plays a certain Backstreet Boys tune on his phone.
“Fuck me,” I mumble, biting back a smile as I grab a plate for the burgers. “You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Never,” Sebastian confirms with a grin. “My brother, the Backstreet Boys fan.”
“It’s Isla’s fault, you know,” I remind them. “She’s the one who picked the damn song in the first place.”
She feigns shock. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t begging me to choose it for you.”
The guys all laugh at my expense but Isla just tosses me a wink and then dances over to kiss me.
“Wait just a damn little minute, Coach,” I tell her, pretending to be mad. “You just threw me under the bus to my whole fucking team, and now you expect me to kiss you?”
Her grin is maddeningly cute as she nods her head and says, “Mm-hmm.”
I hand off the plate of burgers to Sutton who is watching in amusement and then in one swift move, I wrap an arm around Isla and dip her, my face mere centimeters from hers. “Well, if I must.”
I connect my lips to hers in a searing kiss that if the rest of the team weren’t sitting here watching, would have my cock standing tall and begging for attention.
She tastes like summer and promise, and for a moment the catcalls and wolf whistles from my teammates fade into background noise. When I finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes have that soft, dazed look that just confirms how much I love her.
“That’s how you apologize,” I goad against her lips.
“Noted,” she breathes, her fingers still tangled in the collar of my shirt. “But I think I could do better than that.”
“Oh really? You need to kiss me again?”
She pulls the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and shakes her head mischievously. “That’s not the better I had in mind.”
Fuck me.
A soft chuckle escapes my lips. “Babe, if you ask me to whip my cock out right here in front of everyone, don’t think I won’t do it. Everyone here has seen it before. Well…except for Sutton and Mack.”
“Well, I don’t share, Haynesy, so let’s keep my toy under wraps until we get home, huh?”
Fuuuck me again!
“Is that a promise?” I ask, wagging my brow.
Please say it’s a promise.
Fucking Christ, don’t tease me like this and then leave me hanging.
…literally.
She licks her lips and then nods her head. “One hundred percent.”
“Then I’ll hold you to that,” I vow, righting her and stealing one more quick kiss before releasing her. She steps back, smoothing down her shirt with a smirk that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. The team erupts in hoots and whistles, and I flip them off with a grin.
“You two are disgusting,” Sebastian calls out, though there’s nothing but affection in his tone.
“Fuck you, asshat. You’re just jealous.”
“Food’s ready!” Sutton announces to the yard. “Come and get it.”
The team descends on the spread like vultures, loading up plates with burgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob, potato salad, and of course, Mackenzie’s famous baked beans. Shepherd and Sutton move through the crowd like seasoned hosts, making sure everyone has what they need.
Isla appears beside me with two loaded plates, handing me one with a smile. “Thought you might be hungry after all that grilling.”
“Starving,” I say, taking the plate and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Thanks, Coach.”
We find a spot on the grass under the shade of Shepherd’s oak tree, our shoulders touching as we eat.
Around us, the team settles into comfortable groups; Brock and Kyler arguing about football plays, Sebastian holding court with some of the younger guys, Bishop and Mackenzie laughing over an inside joke.
“Your family’s pretty great,” Isla says between bites, watching the scene with a soft expression.
“They’re your family now too,” I tell her, nudging her shoulder with mine.
She doesn’t respond to that, but I catch the way her eyes glaze over before she blinks rapidly and takes another bite of her burger.