Page 2 of Double Play

What does she see in me? Why has she behaved so boldly herself? Daring me with every spark in her eye and lazy curve of her smile to do something about this unquestionable attraction between us.

When her hands coast over my flesh, shivering pebbles break out despite the heat of her touch. I whisper-hiss, “Sizzling.”

There is no denying we are burning hot for one another.

“Where’s Isaiah?” Her eyes track her fingertips as they move over my pecs. Her question about her older brother—my best friend—should be the thing to drown out the inferno building between us.

“Out cold.”

“Keeping up the temperature metaphors?” She arches a narrow brow while her gaze remains on my firm chest. Her fingers trace large circles in opposite directions around the firm muscles.

“That’s not the only thing up.”

A sharp, short laugh bursts between us, the sound rich and throaty and blanketing over me. The sound makes me thirsty, savage even. I want to drink it in.

Cupping the side of her neck, I glide my thumb along the front of her throat and the underside of her jaw, forcing her chin upward. “Tell me to get out and I will.”

I’ll respect that I’m pushing flirtatious words beyond mere talk.

“Don’t you dare.” Those silver eyes narrow, glaring and firm.

“Dare me,” I whisper, recalling the drinking game we’d played earlier that revealed she hasn’t been kissed in almost a year.

“Kiss me.”

Challenge accepted.

one

. . .

Spring Training

February

[Declan]

In the game of baseball one simple swing can change everything. The bat either connects with the ball or you miss.

In the game of life, I’ve had more misses than hits with India Baker.

Which makes my anxiety spike when we are finally in the same city at the same time for an extended period.

As the newest field reporter for The Den, an exclusive streaming service for the Tennessee Terrors, the professional baseball team I coach, I will see India for the first time in fifteen years.

Fifteen long years in which much has changed between us.

She is no longer the spirited young reporter working collegiate sidelines, but an accomplished sportscaster. I’m so fucking proud of her accomplishments even if she worked for her dad’s former team and a rival of my current one.

Professional sports involves unexplained trades of athletes all the time. I’m certain India made concessions to work for her dad like I made concessions to give up playing on the field for a position in the dugout and team management.

But none of that history matters.

Today, I will see my best friend’s little sister for the first time in over a decade, nearly two of them.

How has so much time passed? Where did that time go?

I have all the answers. The truth of the years since Isaiah’s wedding and that weeklong affair with his sister. The one that ended with hope and certainty that I would see her again. That we’d make it work somehow. Long distance didn’t matter, although her career was just getting started and mine was . . . well, I couldn’t have predicted then the changes that would happen for me.