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She slept on the goddamn floor with me, listened and understood parts of me that even my closest friends don’t see. And don’t get me started on that night in my apartment, making her come, seeing her fall apart... Fuck, I feel ruined. Entirely destroyed for anyone else.
I can’t begin to fathom the idea of wanting someone else, so how does she? How the hell does she expect for me to let her go soon? Just sign some divorce papers and call it a day.
In what fucking world?
Sitting on the floor in my brother’s packed house, she’s got this casual T-shirt on and loose-fitting jeans, cuffed once around the ankle to make them the correct length for her. Her auburn hair is split into two braids, falling over her shoulders with pieces pulled out and framing her pretty face with those freckles on full display. They trail down her bare arms and feet, where her toes are painted—I’m just not entirely sure of the color.
I move into the kitchen, hoping to catch either her or my nephew’s attention, but they don’t pay me any mind as I set the bags of groceries on the counter where Kai and Miller are busy prepping her baking equipment.
About once a month, since Miller moved to Chicago permanently, she hosts a night of experimenting, testing out new recipes for her patisserie. Monty and I are always here. Sometimes, Cody and Travis will join. Sometimes, even our friends who play for other teams in the city. And tonight, with an evening free from baseball, half the team is here.
I just had no idea that Kennedy would be too.
“Hey, man,” Kai says, rounding the island to give me a hug. “Is there more in the car?”
“No, Mr. Three Thousand, this is everything.”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I’m going to be annoying as hell about this. My brother just earned his three-thousandth strikeout. You know who does that in their career? Hall of Famers.”
Kai slightly shakes his head as if it’s not a huge fucking deal and something that only nineteen other pitchers have done in their lifetimes.
“He’s right,” Miller agrees. “This is huge, Malakai. The Remingtons confirmed the ceremony is going to happen Saturday night after the afternoon game.”
“That feels a bit ridiculous. People don’t need to take their nights off so I can celebrate that I’m good at throwing a baseball.”
“Maybe we want to celebrate you,” I cut in. “Stop being such a little bitch about it and own it. My brother is one of the best pitchers in the game. I want to celebrate that.”
“Think about Max,” Miller says. “You’re his hero. Don’t you want him to see what you’ve accomplished? I know I do.”
Kai’s blue eyes soften, cutting to me then back to his fiancée. “Fine,” he relents. “But I’m only doing this for you three.”
Miller shoots me a knowing look because the two of us should win an award for our talents of teaming up against my brother.
“Thanks for going to the store, Isaiah,” Miller says as she digs through the groceries I bought her, pulling out fresh bags of sugar and flour. “Any requests?”
“Just send me home with all the leftovers.”
“With how many people came tonight, I’m not sure there’s going to be any leftovers, but I’ll see what I can do.”
I glance over my shoulder to the crowded living room, but still Kennedy and Max have yet to notice my presence, which is super fucking annoying because I’ve always been Max’s favorite and I was hoping I was getting close to Kennedy’s.
“I didn’t know she was going to be here,” I whisper to Kai and Miller.
A knowing smile hikes on the corner of Miller’s mouth. “I told her you were coming over and she asked if she could tag along too.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I thought so too.”
“And she knew that most of the team was going to be here?”
She nods, the excitement evident on her face.
I motion Miller to lean across the kitchen counter, meeting me partway as I keep my voice low. “Do you think she likes me?”
“Jesus,” Kai laughs. “You’re a thirty-one-year-old man. Get it together. Where the hell is my cocky little brother who would just tell a girl she was going to like him? I still have no idea how that worked so well for you.”
