Chapter one
Monty
“Hi.” Lark stifles a yawn as she stumbles down the stairs of her low-rise apartment building. Her blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, those bright blue eyes blinking sleepily. I hold out a steaming travel mug and she takes it with a small smile. “Thanks.”
I love that smile.
We turn and walk toward my truck. “You know you don’t have to join me on the early runs every time.”
Her shoulders lift as she takes a small sip, then exhales. “But then I wouldn’t get the good coffee.”
Just like I always do, I bite back the words that her boyfriend could just as easily be the one bringing her coffee from the café she loves instead of me. How hard is it to learn someone’s favourite coffee order and fucking get it for them?
Our drive to the section of Stanley Park where we like to run early in the morning is quiet; the sun still isn’t fully up with how late it is in the year, but street lamps give us enough light. October is a weird month in Vancouver. It can be sunny and warm or freezing and raining. Today, thankfully, the skies areclear. Good thing, since we have our second to last game of the season later tonight.
It sucks not to have made the playoffs, but at the same time, my body is ready for the break. Being a catcher in the major leagues is no joke. I might have an ass you can bounce a coin off, but I’ve also got knees that creak and pop every morning.
The parking lot is empty as we get out of the car and into the crisp morning air. Lark takes one last swallow of her coffee, then lifts her arms overhead to stretch. I’ve trained myself not to stare at her lithe body when she does stuff like this. To ignore the small sighs and moans as she moves her body through her warm-up routine.
To not think about what sounds she might make in a different environment…like a bedroom.
Fuck. Even when I try to ignore my attraction to her, it’s always there. Lingering in the back of my mind and the forefront of my heart.
I have to give my head a mental shake to get shit under control. Clapping my hands together, I say, “Alright, let’s do this. Race you to the hollow tree?” I take off before she can answer, her cry of protest making me chuckle. The wind is bracing as we jog down the paved path that winds around the park’s perimeter, the Burrard Inlet on one side, and a forest on the other. It’s beautiful, especially now, when it’s not full of tourists. Lark catches up to me quickly, punching my arm.
“Not fair, you cheater.”
I simply stick my tongue out at her. “If you can’t keep up, that’s your problem, Birdie.”
Her huff follows me as I accelerate. She claims to hate thatnickname, but secretly, I think she loves it.
Being friends with Lark is both the easiest, most natural thing in my life, and the most heartbreaking. Have you ever tried to convince yourselfnotto love the one woman who’s ever caught your attention? And I do meanever?
Nothing could keep me from wanting to be near Lark. She’s a shining star and I’m a planetary body caught up in her gravitational pull. Our friendship formed quickly once we discovered our mutual love of all thingsStar Wars, chips and salsa, and of course, fancy coffee.
But being Lark’s friend comes with a steep price. At times, it’s mentally and emotionally exhausting being around her. Having to hide my attraction to her, feelings that from the start were new and unfamiliar, but exciting at the same time. But I keep all of that stuffed down, deep inside, working hard not to let her see it.
Because her happiness is the most important thing.
And she has a boyfriend. And if he can make her happy, then no way will I ever come between them.
We round the corner, the famous hollow tree in sight. I put on a burst of speed, reaching it seconds before her. Naturally, my only response is to pump my arms in the air and let out awhoop. “That’s right, Dan Montgomery wins again!”
“Cocky much?” Lark huffs when she comes to a stop herself, treating me to a big eye roll.
“Don’t be a sore loser, Birdie.” I grin, but then I, too, slow to a stop, bringing my hands to rest on my hips as I regulate my breathing.
“What time are you going to the stadium?” Lark asks afterthe two of us focus on breathing and stretching for a couple of minutes.
“Around eleven, I think. Yami and I want to get in some extra practice.”
The connection between pitcher and catcher is sacred on the Tridents. Up until last season, our lead pitcher, Rafe Montego, was my number one guy. Nicknamed “Pops” because he was the oldest on the team, and acted like a dad to all of us, I still miss the guy. But Kai Yamiko or Yami as we call him most of the time, is a solid pitcher. We get along well enough. It’s just been rocky at times, finding our groove. There’s plenty of other pitchers on the team, and I can work with all of them, but if Yami wants to take the lead pitcher spot, he and I need to iron out a few kinks before next season.
And with next year being the last season on my current contract, it’s extra important to make sure we have a great one.
“So…” Lark starts, and I look over to see her twisting her hands together nervously. Her eyes keep darting between the tree and me.
“So?” I parrot back, confused as to what has her acting so strangely.
