Page 52 of Third Strike Smitten

“And that’s when he asked you out?” Sutton asks, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Not right away,” Isla says, patting my hand on her knee like she’s comforting a child. “He was too embarrassed. But later, when we landed, he pulled me aside and said—” She shifts her voice again, trying to sound like me, “Isla, I’ve never been more vulnerable with anyone in my life. Will you have dinner with me?”

I’m shaking my head, but I can’t stop the laughter that’s bubbling up from my chest. This is ridiculous. This is completely and utterly ridiculous, and yet I can’t bring myself to be mad about it.

“I had to say yes after that,” Isla continues, peering over at me. “I mean, how could I resist? A man who isn’t afraid to show his...softer side.”

“His softer side!” Sebastian howls. “Oh fuck, Kill. That’s amazing.”

“Truly…so beautiful,” Sutton says, clapping her hands. “You guys win. That’s a much better story than ours.”

“Inconceivable is more like it,” I mutter to Isla, but I can’t keep the smile off my face. The way she told that story with such conviction and dramatic flair is honestly impressive. She didn’t even flinch when Bishop, who was literally sitting behind me on that flight, could have called her out.

But he doesn’t.

He just laughs along with Isla. “Seriously though,” Bishop says, settling onto the arm of the couch, “I’ve never seen you this relaxed around anyone during the on-season. I think Isla’s good for you, bro.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I glance at Isla, who’s suddenly looking down at her hands, a slight flush creeping up her neck.

“Yeah, well,” I say, trying to deflect, “she amuses me. Even when she’s completely humiliating me in front of my entire family. I guess I need more laughter in my life.”

Isla looks up at me and something passes between us that I can’t quite name. It makes me feel emotions that have nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with how she makes me feel human in a way no one else ever has. I catch Bishop watching me with that knowing look he gets when he thinks he’s figured something out. He gives me a subtle nod, and I know what he’s saying without words.

She’s the real deal.

And it’s true. This woman who just made up an elaborate, embarrassing story about me to my entire family—and somehow made it feel like the most natural thing in the world—might be exactly what I need in my life. Not just for the front office, not just for appearances, but for me. And it’s a damn shame this isn’t the real deal, because I have to admit, flirting with Isla is both easy and fun.

“You know I’m going to get you back for that, right, Coach?” I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear.

She shivers against me, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at her reaction.

“Promises, promises,” she replies, her breath warm against my neck.

I pull back just enough to stare her down. “Oh, I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Coach.”

“Killian,” Shepherd calls from the kitchen. “Get in here and help me with this chicken before it all burns.”

Reluctantly, I stand, but not before pressing a kiss to Isla’s temple. It’s a small gesture, one that’s becoming a habit, and I’m startled by how natural it feels. Like I’ve been doing it for years instead of weeks.

As I head to the kitchen, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Harper.

Harper

Saw the photos from Bellamy’s. Front office is talking. This is good. Really good. Just...make it last, okay? Don’t do your usual disappearing act after a month.

I frown at the screen. Harper’s known me since I was drafted. She’s seen me cycle through more women than I can count, each one lasting just long enough to get bored before moving on to the next distraction.

Me

This isn’t like that. It’s different.

Harper

Different how?

It’s fake.

It doesn’t mean anything.