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“Mamãe.” Footsteps thunder towards the small office tucked in the attic of the Silva home. Fists pound on the door—locked because in this family, an unlocked door is an invitation. “We’re gonna be late!”
Shit. That meansI’mgonna be late.
I’m still not sure if the entire family is really flocking to Select team try-outs to support Izzy or if it’s my presence attracting them. Amelia probably wants to make sure I don’t do anything reckless like tie my own shoelace, and the rest never give up a chance for some light, loving mockery.
Either way, I can’t be mad about it. Extra time with my nieces and nephews is never something I’m going to complain about. Especially not when the niece in question is the nine-year-old throwing herself at me the moment the office door is unlocked.
“Jesus, Rory.” I fake a pained wheeze as she collides with my legs, desperate for a hug despite seeing me an hour ago. “I thought ballerinas were supposed to be graceful.”
AuroraCassandraSilva is the mirror image of her father as she punches me on the thigh, glaring.
I know I’m not supposed to have favorites. Really, I know. I try to remain unbiased. But my little namesake? Reese is mommy’s little angel, Matthias is his father reincarnate but Rory is special. She’s the wisest of them all; she’s her uncle’s girl. Even fresh from the womb, she’s always been my little best friend, my shadow, the closest thing I have—and might ever have—to a daughter of my own.
That doesn’t mean I love the seven-year-old yanking on my free hand or the two-year-old begging to be hoisted into my arms any less. Scooping up Matthias—much to Amelia’s chagrin—and letting Reese wrap her fingers around mine, I bump Rory with my hip. “What’re you waiting for, trouble? We’re late.”
* * *
My new coworker is waiting for us when we arrive, arms crossed and as close to agitated as the perpetually chill man is capable of achieving. “I know this isn’t the major leagues,” Ben huffs as he yanks the passenger door open, barely letting the car roll to a stop first. “But we still have a schedule.”
“Don’t blame me.” I shove my best friend since college backward so I can clamber out of the car, flashing an innocent smile. “Rory tookforever.”
A small body throws itself into mine, little fingers assaulting my ribcage. “You’re such a liar.”
I tut, yanking on a dark curl. “Respect your elders.”
“You’re not an elder.” Rory rolls her eyes, looking way too old for my liking. “You’re, like, middle-aged.”
Jesus Christ. Why is that worse?
Someone behind me snickers. Hands clamp down on my shoulders, one treated gentler than the other. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
I shrug Nick off. “At least I’m not forty.”
“Almostforty.”
“Thirty-nine and three months.”
“Jesus.” Amelia’s groan echoes around the parking lot. “Can we go one day without this?” Balancing Matthias on her hip, she nods at the girls before jerking her head towards the busy field before us. “Let’s go wish Izzy good luck.”
That simple name-drop is all it takes for Rory to forget me. She takes off in the direction of hersecondfavorite person in the world, Reese hot on her tails, Amelia and Nick following behind. When I go to do the same, Ben stops me. “Just a heads up, this is gonna be chaos.”
Yeah, because I’m not used to that.
“The parents, the kids, the staff, they all know who you are. They’ve been warned about acting inappropriately but they’re excited.”
“Of course they are.”
Ben ignores my cocky comment; he’s more than used to them. “The field is private but we’ve got security on the perimeter just in case. The parents have been briefed on paparazzi and they’ve all signed clauses stating we’re not responsible for any incidents.”
Security for a kid’s baseball practice? “Sounds like I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“You said it, not me,” Ben jokes snidely but it doesn’t quite sting, considering he hugs me a second later. “It’s good to see you.”
I clap one of my oldest friends on the back, meaning it when I say, “You too.”
Pulling back, Ben scans me slowly—no prizes for guessing where his gaze lingers. “You look good.”
“Don’t I always?”
