Page 53 of Third Strike Smitten

It’s just a means to an end.

I’m doing what I have to do to stay in Portland.

I hesitate, glancing at Isla again. She’s laughing at something Sebastian said.

Me

She’s different.

Harper

Isn’t that what you always say?

Me

No, because usually I don’t give a shit. This time I mean it.

I pocket my phone realizing I just got a little defensive about someone talking about my girl.

My girl.

I look out at the living room again, where Isla is now talking about going thrifting with Sutton, and for the first time in my life I can see a greater picture. I can see Isla in the kitchen cooking meals with me. I can see her on my couch watching whatever guilty pleasure we want to enjoy in the off-season. I can see her at the field cheering me on…or rather heckling me even ten years from now.

I can see Isla Fallon in my life.

The thought actually knocks me backward and I drop the tongs I had in my hand.

“You good?” Shepherd asks, eyeing me.

“Shit.” I grab the tongs off the counter and flip the pieces of chicken in the pan. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m good.”

“Who was that? Your text.”

“Harper,” I tell him. “She’s been on my case about cleaning up my act and she’s not sure she believes Isla is the real deal. Pisses me off that she doesn’t trust me.”

Shepherd chuckles next to me, his voice dropping so only I can hear. “Oh, she’s the real deal. No doubt about it.”

I glance at him sideways. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you haven’t looked at anyone like that since...” He trails off, then shrugs. “Ever, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at someone the way you look at Isla.” He smiles and nudges me with his elbow. “A relationship looks good on you, Kill.”

A pang of guilt shoots through my whole body that I’m lying to my brothers about this whole thing. That rather than being honest with the three men in my life I trust the most, I’ve chosen to string them along in this whole ordeal as well. They’re going to be so pissed when they find out none of this was real.

I just have to hope they’ll understand I’m doing this for them.

To stay in Portland.

To live out my life and my career with the people I love most.

12

ISLA

The blank page on my laptop screen mocks me with its emptiness, just like it has for the past three days. I’ve written and deleted so many opening lines that I’ve lost count. The Step Forward Foundation Gala isn’t until next month, but I wanted to get a solid head start on this speech so I have time to feel comfortable with it. I knew it would take me a while to wrestle with my thoughts, and tonight I’m no closer to writing this damn thing than I was when they first asked me.

Lifting my wine glass from my desk, I take a sip of the now lukewarm Moscato and type, Good evening. My name is Isla Fallon, and I’m here tonight because⁠—

Nope. Delete.