Page 14 of Double Play

“You’re not loose,” Isaiah slurs, jostling me beneath his arm. “You’re wound up tighter than the last at bat, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two outs.” With his drink in the air as he speaks, he twirls it while pointing one finger, then brings the glass to his lips to finish off the alcohol in one deep swallow.

With Declan’s back to us, he walks into the tight kitchen space, which is fully exposed to us from the living area.

“How much have you had to drink today?” I ask, side-eyeing my brother with concern that he overindulged during the game.

“Not enough,” he whispers toward the glass, lifting it for one more sip to discover nothing remains.

“Good fellow.” He releases me and stumbles toward the kitchen counter. “Hit me up with another.”

Declan’s gaze leaps to me and my brows pinch, uncertain what has gotten into my brother. Sure, he likes to have a good time. Yes, he likes to drink. But I haven’t seen him inebriated like this in a long time.

Isaiah sets his glass down with a heavy clink and Declan pours him another two fingers worth of whiskey.

Our eyes meet one more time over my brother’s shoulder before Isaiah lifts his glass, points at Declan, then at me, and with an accusatory glare in his dark eyes, he blurts.

“Are you two sleeping together again?”

seven

. . .

[Declan]

What the fuck?

I don’t bother to answer Isaiah’s question. Instead, I simply reach across the kitchen counter, snag the short glass of alcohol out of his hand and take a heavy gulp.

During that wedding week in Colorado, when I spent most of my time sneaking into India’s room, India and I made a pact. Isaiah was never to know what happened. I don’t know what we thought that would prove—keeping our secret from him—especially when I’d hoped to see India again.

Like see her see her. In the flesh. Naked. Beneath me. Again.

One weekend wasn’t enough, and at thirty then, I was winding down from the rare casual hookups and random one-night stands. I was looking to settle down, knowing I couldn’t play baseball forever even if I had a few good years still in me.

By the end of our week, I’d known India was someone I wanted to explore a future with. I’d never felt that way before.

I respected that she had aspirations of reporting for a professional team, and I even hoped to pull some strings with the Chicago Anchors and bring her to the Midwest.

But everything fell apart after that weekend. Within weeks, I’d gotten a life changing call from a friend.

Michelle and I were only together a few times. Nothing serious. Scratching an itch. We were double protected, or so we thought. Our last time together was a couple of months before Isaiah’s wedding.

The best thing about Michelle is she’s levelheaded. Neither of us wanted to marry the other. Neither of us wanted to give up the baby. We’d work it out. Together.

And I forfeited the possibility of being with India.

And never considered confessing to Isaiah what we’d done.

“Isaiah,” India shrieks, bringing me back to the present.

Slowly, I lower the drink in my hand.

“What? You think I didn’t know,” Isaiah counters, his voice slurred.

I don’t know how he knows anything at the moment because it’s clear my best friend is drunk. However, he doesn’t seem as upset as I’d thought he’d be. Then again, it was a long, long time ago.

“You were always pining after him.” Isaiah points in my direction while blinking at his sister before he turns toward me. “And you always asked about her.”

“I—” I didn’t have an immediate defense.