“Nothing.Just… he’s probably one of those guys who wears scarves when it’s eighty degrees and drinks herbal tea in mason jars.”
“Sounds like you’re making up stories ‘cause he’s prettier than you.”
Acen shot him a glare.“He’snot prettier than me.”
“You keep telling yourself that,”Rileysaid, laughing as he walked away.
That evening,Acenfound himself back at the ball field in an attempt to shake unwanted images from his head.Thelight was fading, the sky soaked in oranges and pinks.Hestopped in his tracks, gaze drawn to a lone figure on the field.
Realizing who it was, he gave a low curse.
Rose stood on the pitcher’s mound with a bucket of balls at her feet making underhanded tosses into the net set up a few feet away.One.Two.Three.Steadyas a metronome the balls went into the net
He should just walk away.Butwhen had he ever done the should haves?Hisfeet carried him quietly across the distance separating them.
“Didn’t know you took batting practice alone.”Hesaid in a quiet voice.
She didn’t flinch in surprise or even look up.“Didn’tknow you started stalking people.”
Acen chuckled.“Callit… monitoring.”
“You get lost on the way to minding your own business?”
He stepped into her peripheral vision, hands in his pockets.“Look,Ididn’t come here to fight.”
“Then you’ve got terrible timing.”
He paused, toeing the edge of the mound.“Iheard about your supper with the new guy.”
She stopped tossing.“Declan?”
“That his name?”
She looked at him, brows lifted.“Youjealous?”
“Nope,” he said, way too fast.
She smirked.“He’snice.Smart.Funny.Handsome.”
Acen’s jaw tightened.“Youforgot charming.”
“Oh, he’s that too,” she said lightly.“IguessRileyhas been filling your ears with tales if you know that much.Or, if notRileyspecifically, then the town grapevine.Assumingyou’re tuned back into it that is.”
Silence stretched between them.Thesun slipped lower.
Tension flowed across the space like a living cord.
“I’m not here to play games,Rose,”Acensaid finally.“Youwant me gone,I’llstay out of your way.Butif you don’t…”
“IfIdon’t?”she echoed, her voice quieter now.
“Then maybe we stop pretending twenty years changed everything when it really didn’t.”
Her breath caught.
She looked at him—really looked.Thesame stubborn set of his shoulders.Thefaint scar on his chin from that summer they fell offRiley’sfour-wheeler.Theeyes she used to dream about and now hated dreaming of.
“I don’t know whatIwant,Acen,” she said honestly.“I’mstill trying to figure that out.”
