Page 90 of Third Strike Smitten

I feel calmer, more relaxed.

I’ve enjoyed myself more around my teammates.

And she’s right…I’ve smiled more. I’m happy and I know it’s because of Isla.

I like her.

I really fucking like her.

I like having her in my bed at night. And not just for the incredible sex. Having her in my life really has changed me in ways I never expected. Holding her at night helps me sleep. She makes me laugh when we’re together. She doesn’t judge me for my anxiety. Instead, she holds my hand and helps me through it.

The security and comfort Isla has brought to my life since I met her isn’t something I would ever find in a one-night stand.

“You like her,” Harper says.

I look down at the water bottle in my hands. The thing is, I know exactly what Harper’s getting at, and I know she’s not wrong. This whole ordeal may have started out as an arrangement. A fake relationship of sorts. But now I’m not totally sure I can still call it fake anymore, and I don’t know what to do with that.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I say, rolling the water bottle between my palms. “It’s complicated.”

Any relationship we could possibly have after the season would be long-distance and what’s the point in that? She’ll take another flight assignment and I’ll see her…what? Once a week if I’m lucky? She’d fly home for a quick fuck only to be back in the air the next day?

Nah.

That’s not for me.

I mean, I guess it would’ve been for the old me, but now…where Isla is concerned, I want more than that.

I want more of her.

More of us.

Harper nods slowly, a knowing look on her face. “It always is when real feelings get involved. Just be careful, Haynes. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

She leaves me standing there, her words hanging in the air like a warning I can’t ignore. I crush the water bottle in my hand and toss it into the recycling bin with more force than necessary.

Sunday dinner at Shepherd’s place has become a little bit of a tradition, especially since Sutton has become a part of our family. Every week, my brothers and I gather with the Adams siblings for food, drinks, and the kind of easy camaraderie that comes from growing up together. We created some pretty tight bonds in college with Brock and Kyler and it’s nice to still have that solid friendship after all these years.

Tonight, Sutton’s here too, moving around Shepherd’s kitchen like she’s been doing it forever.

Isla sits at the kitchen island, chatting animatedly with Mackenzie and Sutton about something I can’t quite hear from the corner of the living room. Sutton having grown closer to Mack as well over the last several months, it’s nice to see them all getting along so easily. Isla’s laugh carries across the room, bright and genuine, and I feel that familiar tug in my chest, the one that’s been getting stronger every day. Conversation flows around me, but I find myself withdrawing, lost in my own thoughts. Harper’s words keep echoing in my head.

“You just said ‘if’.”

If.

Such a small word, but it’s been haunting me all week.

If this ends.

If she leaves me.

If I’m not enough for her.

I watch Isla across the room. God, she’s so fucking pretty. She’s wearing one of my old team shirts, the one with the faded logo that she “borrowed” and never returned, not that I care one bit. I love seeing her in my clothes. It’s fucking hot. The shirt’s too big on her, hanging off one shoulder, revealing a constellation of freckles I’ve mapped with my lips more times than I can count. And all I want to do is walk over there and map them out all over again—one freckle at a time for as long as it takes.

“Earth to Killian.” Sutton slides onto the couch beside me, her voice low enough that only I can hear. “You’ve been staring at us in the kitchen for about ten minutes. It’s borderline creepy.”

“Just thinking,” I mutter, taking a swig of my beer.