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I look from Owen to Morgan —don’t trust him— and back again. My eyes always go back to him. Right now, he’s giving me a look I’ve never seen before, except in my fantasies.
“Why are you here?” I barely breathe loud enough for him to hear.
He steps forward once more, puts both hands in his pockets, smiles a smirk straight from my sexiest fantasies. It’s one that speaks of him holding a secret that I’d love to learn, something we could share just between us; a secret that I know really isn’t there, but have dreamed about for so long.
“I think you have an idea about why I’m here, Dani,” he says. Whispers words I’ve so wanted to hear. Words that whip my heart into a wild frenzy.
“Why, Owen?” My vision narrows until all I see is him.
“I’m here to ask you to take me along to the wedding. Let me watch you back. I care about you, Dani. I’ll watch out for you, keep anyone from messing with you, but I’ll stay out of your way and let you do your thing.”
“You want me to take you as my date?”
“Yes, I do. So, what do you say, Dani? Will you take me with you to this wedding?”
A softball zips by my head and rips my attention away from Owen. Morgan’s staring right at me, eyes wide, furious. I raise an eyebrow at her and she comes to me.
“What the hell are you doing? You know it’s a trap.”
It is. It has to be. The look on my brother’s face tells me he orchestrated this whole thing, and he’s made his intentions clear from the very start: if he can’t actively stop me from going to this wedding — and, barring kidnapping me and duct taping me in a basement prison somewhere, he can’t — then he’s going to send in a minder who will make sure I can’t do the things that I need to do.
“I know.”
“If he comes along, there’s no way we can be there for my sister the way we need to be. This compromises everything.”
“You’re right.”
I can’t afford a distraction. Not even one as handsome as Owen. He’s only an extension of my brother’s attempt to control me.
“You know what you have to do.”
I don’t until I look up from the dirt covering home plate and into my best friend’s eyes. The answer’s right there. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary. I nod.
“I got this.”
“I know you do. Thank you, Dani.”
That said, she leaves home plate and walks back to the pitcher’s mound. Owen and Dixon both follow her with their eyes, as most guys do; Morgan’s in great shape, toned, athletic, but just the right height that guys don’t feel threatened by her, until they get on her bad side. Though I love her, there have been more than a few times that I’ve jealously wished I could switch places with my best friend and have guys look at me the way they look at her.
Then she takes the mound. One last exchange:are you ready, Dani?
I nod.
The ball comes. A gentle lob that slowly sails high and slow; a perfect pitch for what I need to do.
I swing; strike dead center; send the softball speeding right at its intended target — Owen. It hits just above the groin, in that spot that’s sure to be softer even on a man with abs like him.
He grunts, groans, grabs his midsection, and hits his knees.
The bat drops from my hands, a mic drop as I turn away from my brother and the crumpled man I’ve nursed a crush on for years. Morgan follows behind me and I can feel her approval wash over me. This wedding’s important — more important that my brother and Owen can imagine — and I can’t let anything, or anyone, distract me from that.
Over my shoulder, I give him one last look as I walk away.
“There’s your answer. Better luck next time, boys.”
Chapter Three
Striker
