Prologue
*Eight Years Ago*
Orlando Airport
Kai
Isabelle’s hand is holding onto mine so tightly I’m starting to lose feeling. Good thing it’s my left hand. Although I’d let her squeeze my pitching hand if she wanted to. Especially today when I know it’ll be two long weeks before I feel her hand in one of mine again.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mutters for about the tenth time since we left my dorm at the University of Central Florida.
“I can,” I reply confidently, just as I have every other time. She doesn’t need to know how fucking bummed I am that she’s leaving. “You’ve wondered about who your dad is for as long as I’ve known you. At this time tomorrow, you’ll finally be meeting him for the first time.” I pull her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. “This is a good thing, Iz. You’ll be back here, thanking me for pushing you to go, in less than two weeks.”
I feel her heave a sigh, and her arms tighten around my back. “I’m going to miss your hugs.”
“Good thing I’ll be right here, ready to give you one as soon as you get home.”
She leans back slightly, and I hate that I see tears gathering in the corners of her stormy grey eyes.
“You need this, Iz,” I say gently, wiping away the tears. She nods, before laying her head back down on my chest. “You’re gonna go, meet your family, eat some pasta, and then come back, ready to take on the world.”
“What if they don’t like me?” she asks in a small voice.
My jaw clenches. “Then they’re complete dumbasses and you get on an earlier flight and come home.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “But that’s not gonna happen, baby. It isn’t possible for anyonenotto like you. You managed to win over Professor Ruiz, and she’s a stone-cold bitch.”
My mention of her least favourite accounting professor makes her snort with laughter. The number of times I’ve listened to my girlfriend rant about that class is ridiculous. Isabelle’s not cut out for a life behind a desk crunching numbers, that’s for sure. The problem is, we’re in our second year of college and she still doesn’t know what she wants to major in. We might be only twenty years old, but time’s running out for her to decide, which is why this two-week trip to Italy over spring break is perfect. She needs to step back and figure things out.
I just wish I could go with her. But being a starting pitcher on a Division I college baseball team means spring break is packed with practices and games.
Isabelle moves back, and I let my arms fall, taking her hands in mine instead. I lift them up and kiss them before removing my hat and placing it on her head.
“What’s that for?” she asks, pulling one hand free to adjust the hat.
“You’re my good luck charm, right?”
She nods, her thumb running over the brim where her initials are written.
“Well, I’m sharing the luck with you. Just for spring break, I need it back if we’re gonna have a shot at playoffs,” I say sternly before breaking into a grin, then dipping down and kissing her. “Not that you need any luck. You’re gonna have a fantastic trip, baby.”
“I love you, Kai.” She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me back, harder this time.
“I love you, too. These two weeks are gonna fly by, just like winter break did.” I inject as much confidence into my voice as I can, even though it’s gonna suck being apart from her. We’ve been dating for a year and a half now. The only two Canadians in our year at our Florida campus, we became friends quickly after meeting at freshman orientation, but it transformed into more. So much more.
Last year, over summer break, we met up half way through the two and a half months and spent ten days together road-tripping through Montana and Wyoming. With her being from Calgary, and me staying in Toronto with my parents, sisters, and grandmother, it was the easiest to meet somewhere neutral. I want her to meet my family one day, but there’s time for that.
Isabelle is my endgame. There will never be anyone else for me but her. She’s started learning Japanese so she can talk to my grandmother, even though I’ve told her Oba-chan speaks English. And I want to meet her mom and thank her for raising such an amazing woman. Single moms are badass.
But we gotta get through this first. She needs to know the rest of her family — a family she only recently found through a DNA matching test. And right now, I have to be the strong one. Because my girl is nervous as fuck.
“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna have so much fun. Unlike me, who will be sweating through practice and games every day. Okay?” I smirk and cup her cheek in my palm. “And if your dad turns out to be some Italian mobster, make sure you tell him I don’t wanna join la familia. I’m too pretty to be a gangster.”
That finally earns me a laugh. “I dunno, there’s a Japanese mob, maybe our families will turn out to be international rivals and it’ll be aRomeo and Julietsituation.”
I pretend to consider it. “Don’t tell him my last name ’til you figure out if he has connections.”
“Deal.” She giggles again before leaning back in for another hug. “Thanks, Kai. You always make me feel better. I love you for that.”
“You love me for more than just that, I hope.” I feel her nod. “Good. Well, I love you just for being you. And you know I love hugging you. But if you don’t get your cute butt on that plane, you’re gonna regret it.”
