by Alexis Anne
“Is it food poisoning?” I joked.
She scowled at me. “You are smiling like a loon. So either you just produced the greatest photograph of all time or something else is going on.” She dropped her voice down low. “Did you sleep with Beau?”
“God no!” I shuddered even thinking about it. At this point we were essentially brother and sister. Whatever romantic or sexual feelings I had for my ex were gone. I’d say I couldn’t remember feeling that way, but I could. It was more like watching a movie and remembering how you felt the first time you watched it.
“Hmmm. You didn’t go on vacation. Honestly, I’ve never seen you smile like this so I have no idea what’s causing it.”
“Maybe I’m just happy.”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “And I hope that you are. But it would be fun if there was something exciting causing it…”
I studied my sister. The same woman who’d just spent the last hour gushing about her world tour. She told me every (sometimes gross) detail of fame, love, and singing for a year on the road. She shared without reservation.
But this sickly sweet feeling I had every time I thought of Chris was special. Plus, we agreed to keep this quiet while we figured it out. If Berlin was any example of the drama I was in for, then the quieter the better. “This summer has been enlightening. I’ve realized I’ve been living in default mode since the divorce.”
Summer relaxed. “Oh thank god. I was starting to worry.”
“Little sisters aren’t supposed to worry about big sisters.”
“That only applies when we’re kids. As adults we get to worry about each other whenever we want to. Tell me more.”
I huffed as I stared into my lemonade. “Berlin says I put myself on the shelf, and even though I really hated hearing that description of me, I realize she’s right. I have been on the shelf collecting dust. Afraid to change too much since so much had already changed.”
“But has it?” She set her tea down. “I’m not trying to be confrontational or anything, but you and Beau had been living separate lives for a long time. I love the guy, but I never thought he was the guy for you.”
I thought back on the time leading up to learning Linc would be part of our lives, how I was ready to let our marriage go until that pregnancy test came back positive. And while Beau was attentive and excited, we never found a way to make us both happy. Summer was right.
“I feel like I’ve upset you,” Summer hedged. “I love you.”
“I love you too. And I’m not upset. I’m...thinking.”
“While you think, I’m going to make lunch. Sandwiches?”
I nodded my agreement, already lost in my thoughts. “Why didn’t you think Beau was the right man for me?”
Summer busied herself in the kitchen, pulling out bread, fruits, and sandwich fixings. “He was safe. You were with him because he made you feel safe.”
That hit me like a ton of bricks because those were the exact thoughts I had about Berlin and Ryker. Was Beau safe?
Yes, actually.
He protected me from the pain I felt towards my parents because he had the same pain. Highly successful parents who expected nothing less from their children. We both had strict, stressful childhoods. We bonded over our shared problems and I always had him as a confidante. Marrying so young was an escape for both of us. A team we built together to face the pressures we didn’t want but couldn’t avoid.
“Fuck.”
Summer giggled.
“What?”
She shrugged, knife in hand as she slathered mustard over bread. “You never swear anymore. I miss it.”
“You miss my foul language?”
“Yeah. You know what I love about swearing? It comes out of emotion. Emotion is passion and creativity. So hearing you swear gives me hope your creativity will return too.”
She might as well have slapped me. My entire business was built on creativity. “Excuse me?” My creativity was not gone. In fact I was excited about working on London’s new book! I loved a new puzzle to figure out and every project was precisely that.
Summer set the knife down and placed her palms flat on the counter, taking a deep breath before looking me in the eye with an intensity that knocked the air from my lungs. “From one artist to another, you’re not creating anymore. You’re producing. And I get it. Those celebrity portraits pay the bills. And by all means, pay those bills, girl. But you have to have creativity too, or else your art dies. Doing London’s books isn’t your art. It’s hers. You supply the visual vessel through which her narrative is told. And it pays the bills. The bills are paid, Liv. You are an independent single mother who is taking banging care of her kid. Where’s your creativity? Where’s your art?”
I was winded by my sister’s attack. Or intervention. Yeah, that’s what this was. A creative artist intervention. Truth being rained down on me whether I wanted to hear it or not. I married for safety. Put myself on a shelf. And lost my art along the way.
Who the fuck was I? I didn’t even know myself.
Suddenly Summer was beside me taking my hands, her voice low and soothing. “I love you. Please don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
She searched my eyes, checking for the truth. “Our parents are cold, driven, selfish people. Their art is...crap?” She laughed and it brought a smile to my lips to hear the truth of that as well. “It’s pretentious bullshit. It’s designed to get praise from critics and sell to wealthy people who will never look at it again. That’s not real art and it’s not what you or I want to put out into the world. Remember?”
Oh, I definitely remembered our whispered promises under the covers of my bed while our parents screamed and fought. “Your music is beautiful.”
She squeezed my hands. “And your photography is breathtaking. The world needs to see your vision through your lens again. When was the last time you put out a project for you?”
The fact that I had to think about this spoke volumes. “Linc was three.”
“The Everglades wildlife project.”
I nodded. It won awards, appeared in magazines, and earned money to safely remove pythons from the Everglades. I was so proud of that project. And then I buried myself in motherhood and paying the bills.
Summer was also right about the bills. They were paid. I had my own money in savings, not just Beau’s. I was safe and I needed to stop living like I wasn’t.
I tucked Linc into bed and waited for his breathing to grow heavy, then like a teenager, I snuck out of my own damn house. Because I wanted to.
“Chris?” I hissed at the edge of his property.
He appeared out of the shadows, taking my breath away. His post game shower made his hair lighter and his smile was whoa.
“Get over here,” he urged, reaching for me at the same time he moved toward me.
And then I was in his arms and his lips were on mine. And holy hell what a kiss. I sizzled. My fingers were hungry, needing and wanting to touch him, to massage his neck and thread into his hair. And his seemed to be just as hungry, skating along my back and pressing me to him.
He ended the kiss by pressing his forehead to mine. It was so sweet. “I wish we could do this all night but I’m smashed, Liv. I can barely stay upright.”
He’d pitched the early afternoon game in New York, then the team hopped a plane home. He just got in. “How’s your arm?”
He smiled with his eyes still closed. “Tired but good.”
“You were kind of amazing.”
His eyes opened and found mine. “Only kind of? I’ll have to be even better next time.”
“Chris.”
“What? I want to impress you. I want you to gush that I’m amazing full stop.”
The things he made me feel were amazing. I felt young and alive. I felt the stirrings of ideas and dreams again. Not just about us, but in general. My creative mind had been asleep and with the cajoling of my sister and the rousing of my body thanks to this man, I was awakening.
This was special. We were special.
I massaged his neck as I kissed him, feeling his body relax and drift into mine. “Go get some sleep.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my cheek, then my lips. “I hate hiding. Kisses in the shadows aren’t nearly enough.” Then his lips dragged down my jaw and neck, stopping at my shoulder where he took a shuddering breath and stepped back. “Good night, Liv.”
“Good night, Chris.”
He waited, watching me until I waved from the door. I shut it and slid the deadbolt into place before going about my usual evening routine of checking doors and windows, turning off some lights and dimming others, until the house glowed.
I didn’t like hiding anymore than he did, especially considering how different he made me feel. But as I stopped in Linc’s room to adjust his blankets and remove the book from his hands, I was reminded that there was a very good reason for patience and caution. I could get to know Chris without putting myself back on the shelf. For now, midnight kisses in the dark would have to do.
10
No one shares in this house?
Chris
When I got home for my next off day, I filled all the empty pockets of Scott’s carry-on luggage with sunflower seeds. He was going to have a lot of fun trying to get through security at the airport.
And honestly? I needed the distraction. The Mantas were now officially in the playoffs and favored to win, and a huge part of that was because of me. I was proud, focused, and stressed as all hell. I spent a lot of time listening to music and ignoring televisions, social media, and newspapers.
Newspapers were the bane of my existence.
Championship Sits on Young Pitcher’s Shoulders.
Fuck that. Baseball was a team sport. I didn’t pitch every game. This wasn’t all on me. We were where we were because we all showed up and put in the time. Wes ran the field like the captain of a ship and called pitches brilliantly. He knew every pitcher and their preferences. Erik was solid, consistent, and steady at second base. Seth rocked home run after home run, all while holding down left field. Even Yates pulled out of his pitching slump and was a solid mid-reliever after I had to save his ass.
Whether we won or lost wasn’t my burden alone to bear, but I was a key factor. The fact that most teams couldn’t even get a bat on my pitches this year made me deadly and it intimidated the heck out of our rivals. I would start game one and the intention was to solidly put us first in the series.
So it was a lot.
And selfishly, one of the things that bothered me most was that I couldn’t tell everyone I was dating Olivia. I wanted her by my side. And, truth be told, I wanted to lean on her. It would be a lot easier to stay distracted if I could kiss her without hiding.
So, selfish bastard that I was, I showed up on my final off day with a plan. An ill-advised plan I wish I could take back. In retrospect I could see that it was incredibly unfair and probably, ultimately, set up my downfall.
I had a bouquet of pink and purple flowers, chocolate from Dawkins Chocolate Shop, and ice cream from Rosie’s for Linc. Also, I was wearing the worn jeans Olivia loved and a white t-shirt that I was once told by a public relations person “made me look like sex.”
So now I was nervously standing on Olivia’s doorstep trying to figure out how to knock on her door. I ended up setting the flowers down, knocking, and then picking them back up. Inside I heard Linc yelling and Olivia threatening him with no video games if he opened the door. Their banter made me smile. Also, I kind of wanted to play video games with Linc.
Two beats went by before the door opened. “Hey.” Her eyes dropped to the flowers, then darted to the ice cream and chocolates.
“Hey.” I held up my prizes. “These are for you.”
She stared at the flowers as I passed them to her. “And the ice cream?”
“Sorry, that’s for Linc.”
She shook her head, laughing. “Well I can’t let you in then. I only allow strangers with candy into my house.”
“Good thing I brought Dawkins Chocolates then.”
Her gaze softened. “Oh, well then you have to come in.” She snatched the bag from me and stepped to the side.
Linc stole the ice cream as fast as his mother grabbed the chocolates.
“No one shares in this house?” I laughed, loving it all.
“No.” Her mouth was already full. Which of course meant I was appreciating the look of pure ecstasy on her face as she sighed and slumped against the door. “Dawkins is my favorite.”
While she was busy closing her eyes and making sex noises over chocolates I took a moment to appreciate seeing her for the first time in three days. Her dark hair was looped into a messy bun. She wore a black tank top and blue leggings. Her feet were bare. Olivia was a natural beauty from her dark eyes to her full lips. Lips I was having the strong urge to kiss.
I cleared my throat. “So, how was your week?” I hated that I was gone so much. The end of the season was long and hectic and the playoffs were going to be even worse.
“Good. It was movie week.”
I followed her into the kitchen. Linc was halfway through the pint of moose tracks. “Which movies?”
“The Sandlot, The Last Starfighter, Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark, and A League of Their Own.”
I noted that two of those four movies were baseball movies. “So all the best ones? Which was your favorite, Linc?”
“The popcorn!” His whole face was covered in ice cream smudges.
“The popcorn, huh?”
“Yep.” He nodded vigorously. “When we do movie week we always have popcorn, pizza, soda, and cookies.”
Olivia shrugged. “We go a little wild.” Then she whispered, “It’s the food. I bribe him with it so I can watch what I want.”
“Ahhh . . . so that’s where A League of Their Own came from.”
She rolled her eyes. “How else is Linc supposed to learn ‘there’s no crying in baseball’?”
“I can teach him.” And it occurred to me I really wanted to. I could see us in the backyard throwing the ball around, me cheering way too loudly from the bleachers at his games, showing him my pitching tricks.
And I didn’t think it was just because I was attracted to Olivia, who was now staring at me wide eyed. I felt a genuine connection to this funny kid. “So what’s this I hear about video games?”
Linc bounced on the barstool. “I love Lego Batman! Do you play Lego Batman?”
“Not yet but I learn real fast. Want to play?”
“Can we, Mom?” He bounced faster and faster until she waved her hand.
“Sure. If Chris wants to, you can play for a little while.”
We plopped down in front of the living room television for what turned out to be an hour and a half of three different Lego games: Batman, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Ninjago. All the games were essentially the same, but with different characters and missions. I had to admit it was pretty fun to play, but it was Linc’s jumping, hopping, and shouting that really made it a good time.
“And then you can make them roll all the way down the hill!” he howled as Captain Jack Sparrow destroyed a giant rolling ball. It was apparently hilarious.
As in, the kid was rolling on the floor laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “These video game designers are geniuses,” I laughed.
“They really are,” Olivia said from the doorway. “And we pay them handsomely for it.”
I was struck a little dumb by how beautiful she was standing there. I completely forgot I had the hopes and dreams of thousands of fans riding on my shoulders. “Hey kid, mind if I skip the next game?”
“No problem!” he yelled, hopping up and down as he played. He didn’t even notice that I walked away with his mom.
I nodded toward the kitchen and she followed.
“Having fun with Linc?”
“He’s a good kid. He’s fun.” I lingered in the doorway.
She smiled. “I apprecia
te you making him feel included.”
“We’re neighbors. I figure I should know what trouble he likes to get into.”
“I also appreciate the flowers and chocolates.” She eyed me warily.
I wanted to wine and dine her, take her fishing all day, buy her presents. She was that kind of woman. The kind you never felt entirely worthy of, but tried to impress anyway. I didn’t want to hide it from Linc or anyone else. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“So,” she drawled, “how are you?”
I was so sick of hearing that from everyone but her. From Olivia it felt genuine and in concern for me, not the championship. “I feel it. The intensity. I’m stressed.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
I stopped short of blurting out what I really wanted and instead tested the waters. “I want you to come to the games. Linc, too.”
“We’d like that.” She gave me a small, gorgeous smile.
“And I’d like to tell people about us. That we’re together.”
She blanched. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Because you don’t want to be with me?” Why did I say that? Even if it was true, I didn’t want to hear it. Not now.
“Chris.” She rubbed her temples, sighing. “God no. It’s not that. It’s…”
“It’s what?”
“It’s the playoffs. Everything is bigger right now. More intense. I don’t want us to get caught up in the whirlwind only to get blown over in the process. I’ve done this before. I know how it works. Every spare thought and moment you have will be sucked up by this until it’s over. And when it’s over, win or lose, there’s nothing. For weeks and weeks and weeks. And then it starts all over again. I told you when this began it needed to be slow. I need to see for myself and for Linc that your world is one we can live in.”
I felt a cool sweat break out over my skin. No matter what happened in a game I never got nervous. But I was nervous now. “You know me, Liv. You know I’m not like him. What has you so worried?” I wish I could erase the connections she saw between me and Beau because we were nothing alike.