PROLOGUE
BENNETT
Bennett—Sixteen Years Old
“Bennett, hurry up.” Gabby, my big sister, bangs on the bathroom door. “Bower will be
here any second and I don’t want you in the shower when she arrives.”
I open the door, startling her so much that her hand falls to her chest.
“What’s the big deal? She’s just your friend,” I reply, trying not to act like the annoyed
sixteen-year-old that I am, because my sister takes care of me. She makes sure there’s a roof over
our heads—even if it’s a one-bedroom apartment that we share—and despite the toll on her, she
brought us closer to Almond Bay so I have a better chance of getting scouted for baseball. Yes,
I’m grateful. But she’s still annoying me right now. Hence the rant.
“I know, but this is the first time she’s going to be at our place since we’ve moved, and
well, I don’t need your scrawny body waltzing out in a towel.”
I glance down at my jeans and T-shirt and then back up at my sister. “Not naked.”
“I can see that, thank you.”
Bower has been friends with Gabby for almost a year now, but because of their schedules,
including school, I’ve never met her, only heard about her.
I know she’s funny.
She cares for my sister.
And that her dad is the manager at the Olive Garden they both work at, and if Gabby asks
for it, she’s always given overtime, because Bower’s family understands our situation.
Foster kids growing up until Gabby turned eighteen, when she pulled me out of the system
with her, begging our foster parents to let us, even swearing they could keep the government
assistance, just not to bother us.
Still don’t know how she was able to do that, but now we’re out on our own. My job is to
train while she works to pay our bills. And there are months when all we eat is leftover soup
from Olive Garden that’s going to be thrown out along with stale breadsticks, but we make the
most of it.
Now that I’m sixteen and she’s twenty-four, we have a system that works for us. A system
that keeps us out of trouble, that keeps us together, and that will lift me into a position to make
the most of our dreams.
Gabby glances around our small, five-hundred-square-foot apartment. “Should I vacuum
again?”
“No.” I groan as I move past her. “She’s your friend. I don’t think she’s going to care that
you vacuumed twice before she arrived.”
“I know, you’re right, but her family has been so supportive of us. I just want her to know
that we’re okay.”
“She will know,” I say as I flop back on the couch, the smell of Gabby’s Crock-Pot chicken
making my stomach ache. It’s rare when she buys chicken because it’s so expensive, but when
she does, I devour it, especially since it’s a far cry from the barely buttered noodles or soup we
usually eat.
Knock. Knock.
Gabby’s eyes fly to the door and then back to me. Whispering, she says, “That’s her. Be
nice.”
“As if I wouldn’t.” I roll my eyes while she answers the door. If anything, if it’s important
to my sister, then it’s important to me.
“Gabby,” a sweet but excited voice sounds through the apartment. “Oh my God, this place
is so cute.”
“Thank you. It was a good find after, well, you know…”
After Gabby had to live in a car for a week while I stayed with a friend because her
abusive boyfriend hit her in the head with a bottle, but you know, we’re not talking about that
anymore.
My fingers curl into the cushion of the couch as I attempt to regulate the anger that’s still
simmering in the pit of my stomach from that situation. I can’t think about it or I might just take
retribution.
“Oh, you must be Bennett.”
I glance up, my eyes focusing on the drop-dead gorgeous girl in front of me.
Holy.
Shit.
Long, golden blond hair, straight and tucked behind her ears, letting the insane light green
of her eyes take center stage, highlighted under thick, black lashes and black eyeliner. Her lips
are coated in some sort of gloss, pouty and pink, while a beauty mark rests just above the right of
her lip.
Jesus…
“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat and stand, trying not to be awkward as I hold my hand out to
her. “Nice to, uh, nice to meet you.”
“Oo, the manners, good job, Gabby.” Bower smiles brightly at me. “Nice to meet you too,
Bennett. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Thank you. I mean, you’re welcome…wait, no, thank you,” I say stupidly. Fucking
smooth, bro.
She smirks and drops my hand just as Gabby’s alarm goes off. “Oh shoot, that’s the
laundry. I have to go switch it.”
“Want me to grab it?” I ask, sticking my hands in my back pockets.
“No, I have some…well, some underwear I don’t need my little brother fondling.”
“Fondling.” My voice cracks awkwardly. “I wouldn’t…I’d never do that, Gabby.”
She chuckles. “I know, but it’s fine. I can handle it. I’ll be right back. You good staying
here?” she asks Bower.
“Of course,” Bower says, waving her off, giving me a chance to take the rest of her in.
She’s wearing a pair of yoga pants with a waistband that folds over her hips, keeping them low
cut and showing off a few inches of her toned and tanned stomach. Her white V-neck shirt clings
to her torso while the neckline dips just low enough to give me a view of her ample cleavage.
Shit, she’s so hot.
“Great, be right back.” Gabby takes off, and Bower turns to me, her eyes so freaking
hypnotizing that I immediately get lost in them. Like a, uh…mossy field or something. I don’t
know, I’m no poet, but if I were one, I could spend hours just staring—
“Bennett?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“I asked if we could chat for a moment before Gabby gets back?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” I lead her to the couch where we both take a seat, her sitting comfortably
on one end, me having a near panic attack from the scent of her perfume swirling all around me.
“Okay, I’m glad I have a chance to speak with you, because after what happened with
Gabby’s ex and her need to blow it off as nothing, I felt this very protective instinct fall over
me.”
“Me too,” I say.
“I’m sure. I couldn’t imagine what you must have been feeling that day. And since she’s
my bestie, I want to make sure that she’s not only taken care of, but that she’s not, well…lying
about anything. I love her, but she made it seem like everything was good with her ex, when
clearly it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, he was a dick.”
“Exactly. And I was thinking, she does such a wonderful job of making sure you have
everything you need and caring for you, it’s her top priority, but I don’t think she ever pauses for
a moment to take care of herself. Nor does she communicate with either of us about what she
needs.”
“Because she claims she doesn’t need anything.”
“I think we can both agree that’s a lie.”
I nod, because it is.
“Then, if it’s okay with you, I would be grateful if you give me your phone number so if
anything comes up, or if we see anything off about Gabby, we can communicate and help her
out, even when she denies the need for help.”
Wow…I can guarantee you that never in my life have I heard anyone want to take care of
my sister the way that I want to take care of her. She spends countless hours working, paying for
our shelter, or food, providing for us so that I can have a future. She has set aside so much of her
life so I can chase my dream of becoming a professional baseball player that I’ve ingrained it in
my mind that when it happens, the roles will be reversed and I’ll be the one taking care of her.
But to have someone else want to do that now, want to keep her safe and protected, it hits
different.
Makes me feel like this weight that’s sitting on my chest is a little less heavy.
Do I have hearts in my eyes?
Because that’s what it feels like.
“Do you mind?” she asks. “If I get your phone number?”
“Oh, uh, sure. That’s cool.”
“Great.” She sighs with relief. “I appreciate it. I know this is so heavy for you, but Gabby
told me you’ve grown up faster than any other kid your age, so I thought you could handle
helping out.”
“I want to help out. I love my sister and just want the best for her.”
“I know.” Bower smiles softly. “If you’re good with it, hand me your phone and I can text
myself with it.”
“Oh, it’s, uh, it’s not one of those fancy phones or anything,” I say.
“Doesn’t matter.” She waves her hand at me. “I couldn’t care less and you shouldn’t
either.”
Shit, she’s cool.
“Sure.” I pull my flip phone from my pocket and hand it to her.
“Perfect.” She enters her number into my phone and then hands it back to me. “I texted
myself so I have your number too. I really appreciate this, Bennett. And feel free to text me if
you ever need anything, okay? I love your sister so much. She’s helped me through a lot and I
want to be there for her just as much as she’s there for me, but her stubborn pride tends to get in
the way.”
“Something I know a lot about.”
“And let’s make a promise right now to be as transparent as possible. We don’t want
another situation like she had with her ex.” She points at me. “Truth only.”
Oddly, I just met this girl and because she’s best friends with Gabby, I’m putting all my
trust in her. I nod. “Truth only.”
* * *
Bennett—Seventeen Years Old
Bennett: Did Gabby go into work today?
Bower: No, why? Did she tell you she was?
Bennett: Fuck, she did. I knew she was lying.
Bower: Okay, no need to panic. I’m assuming she’s gone now. Do you have any idea
where she is?
Bennett: No idea. She said she was going into work, but she left her work apron and cash.
Bower: Let me casually ask her where she is.
Bennett: Let me know as soon as you can.
A few minutes later…
Bower: I know where she is. She’s safe.
Bennett: Where is she?
Bower: Just worry about going to practice and she will be home in a bit.
Bennett: You promised transparency. If I’m not going to lie to you, you can’t lie to me.
Bower: Bennett, trust me on this.
Bennett: Bower, tell me.
Bower: Ugh, fine. She was going out to get you a present, found something on the
marketplace and had to drive two hours to get it.
Bennett: And she didn’t bring you?! That’s not fucking safe.
Bower: Trust me, I already yelled at her about it. But she’s safe and driving back. For what
it’s worth, you’re going to love the gift.
Bennett: I don’t care. I care that she could have gotten hurt.
Bower: Same, but let’s just say she’s good. Okay?
Bennett: Fine.
Bower: Hey, it’s good. Now…how was baseball practice?
Bennett: Don’t change the subject when I’m mad.
Bower: Can’t be mad forever…especially when she gives you that present.
* * *
Bennett—EighteenYears Old
Bower: Happy birthday, Mr. Eighteen! Any plans?
Bennett: Gabby has something planned. By the way, did she tell you about the guy she met
at the bar? He tipped her two hundred dollars. Do I need to be worried?
Bower: The only thing you need to be worried about is the gift I have for you.
Bennett: Why?
Bower: Gabby might have given me access to some of your teenage pictures.
Bennett: Please…please don’t.
Bower: Too late for that. By the way, thanks for the tip on the shoes I got for Gabby.
You’re right, she never would have taken them.
Bennett: She doesn’t like to take anything from you.
Bower: I know, but I told her I got them for me and they were too tight and I couldn’t
return them. She took them, tried to pay me, so I told her I got them on super discount for fifteen
dollars.
Bennett: She bought it?
Bower: Of course, I’m super convincing.
* * *
Bennett—Twenty Years Old
Bennett: Are you planning a party for Gabby?
Bower: I was. I was going to text you to see what your schedule was like. I know she said
she didn’t want a graduation party, but she got her teaching degree, and we need to celebrate.
Bennett: I agree. I could probably sneak home this weekend, we have an off day.
Bower: Perfect. I’ll put things in motion. So excited to see you, it’s been a while. How
have you been? Met any girls?
Bennett: Things are fine.
Bower: That doesn’t answer the question. Did you finally lose that virginity of yours?
Bennett: I lost it when I was seventeen.
Bower: What?? To whom?
Bennett: Someone who was extremely disappointed with my performance.
Bower: LOL!! We can’t all be perfect our first time. You’ll get better.
Bennett: Already am.
Bower: Ooo, love the confidence, big man.
* * *
Bennett—Twenty-Two Years Old
Bennett: Coach Rowley and Gabby? WHAT THE FUCK?? Did you know?
Bower: Of course I knew. I encouraged it. He’s so hot.
Bennett: Bower! That’s my former coach.
Bower: I know, and he’s hot and apparently has an amazing penis from what your sister
has told me. Don’t blame her. She needed a good boning.
Bennett: Jesus Christ.
Bower: What do you expect from her? To close up shop? No way! You’re getting laid
every two seconds down there in the minor leagues, and she should get herself some as well.
Bennett: It’s not every two seconds.
Bower: Actually, you’re right. At least not when it comes to your crush. Whatever
happened to that?
Bennett: Nothing. She’s not interested.
Bower: Are you sure? Did you even try? You play the shy and innocent, but we both know
that’s far from the truth. That’s how you score the ladies. Maybe she’s different.
Bennett: She is different. Different from everyone I’ve ever met.
Bower: OH MY GOD! Then you need to go for it. What are you doing?
Bennett: Waiting.
Bower: Waiting for what?
Bennett: For the right moment.
CHAPTER ONE
BENNETT
Bennett—Twenty-Four Years Old
“Breakfast burrito. Chorizo, potatoes, eggs, and refried beans,” Nolan says as he tosses me
a wrapped burrito and then takes a seat next to me in the locker room. “Said to be the finest out
of all the ballparks, but I’ll be the fucking judge of that.”
He kicks back his recliner, propping his legs up, and then starts unwrapping his breakfast
burrito.
Nolan joined the team last year, during my first full year with the Bombers. He was traded
from the Chicago Rebels after one year in the majors. A fast-as-fuck right fielder, he’s fast
becoming a fan favorite among the Bombers fans for his gives-no-shits attitude on social media,
prominent breakfast burrito reviews, along with his combination of crop tops and dirty mids
during warm-ups.
And for those who might not know what a dirty mid is, it’s the styling of his baseball
pants, tight as fuck, reaching just below his calf muscle, a capri length. There are very few, and I
mean very few players who can pull off the look, but Nolan with his burst fade, curly mullet,
sleeve tattoo, and friendship bracelets he tends to wear…well, he pulls it off.
With a giant bite in his mouth, he examines the burrito as he says, “Shit, this is pretty damn
good.”
I chuckle and then start unwrapping mine as well. “Would you say the best?”
“Can’t make that kind of assessment just yet.” He takes another bite and then moans.
“Fuck, this shit is so good, though.”
I join him and have to admit it’s pretty fucking good.
“So how’s the zoo going?”
I sigh and tip my recliner back as well. The rest of the team is milling about. We have
hours before the game, so we’re all just hanging out, doing our own thing.
“The whole thing is so dumb.”
“Yeah, having to do PR for a team that cheated when you weren’t around, that shit sucks.”
He’s right. It does suck.
When I was in the minors, the Bombers were caught cheating, stealing signs from other
teams and relaying them. It was a huge fuckup, and the Bombers have paid the price dearly. And
because I wasn’t on the team at the time, but one of the fresh, young faces of a brand-new era, I
was chosen as the player to help the Bombers with their PR image. And can you imagine, the
Bombers were not the only ones dealing with a PR problem in San Francisco?
Nope, the Foghorns, which is the football team, and the Rogue, San Francisco’s brand-new
hockey expansion team, needed a lift in image as well. So they plucked me, Graydon St. John
from the Foghorns, and Oden “OC” O’Conner from the Rogue to try to boost morale and
improve San Fran’s besmirched sports team reputations.
So far, not sure it’s helping. Although, Graydon started a social media presence with his
zookeeper and that has taken off. So maybe it’s working for him, but for me, not so much.
“I think the zoo thing is not reaching the way they wanted it to, and I’m thinking about
suggesting I do something else, because as much fun as it is hanging out with the lions, I don’t
see the impact.”
“Sounds like a fucking bust.” Nolan takes another bite of his burrito and moans. “Fuck me.
This is better than the blow job I got last night.”
I glance at him and he smirks.
“Nah, that’s a lie. The blow job was phenomenal.”
Shaking my head, I go to take another bite just as my phone buzzes in my pocket with a
text. I wipe my fingers on one of the napkins Nolan gave me with the burrito and then grab my
phone, where I see a text from Bower.
My stupid fucking heart trips all over itself from the sight of her name.
I live to see her name pop up on my phone, beg for it every single day because that’s how
desperate of a motherfucker I am. And I wait for her to text, because if I allowed myself to text
her, to start the conversation, then it would be every hour of the goddamn day.
And it would be texts like…
Can I take you out on a date?
Please tell me you’re not seeing anyone.
When will you see me as the man I am and not Gabby’s little brother?
See? Desperation.
Not hiding my excitement, I set my burrito on the coffee table in front of me and open her
text.
Bower: Hey Benny Boo Boo, what are you up to?
She’s the only one allowed to call me that, and it’s only because I don’t want to tell her not
to. OC tried calling me that once and I shut it down really quick.
Bennett: Eating a breakfast burrito in the locker room. How about you?
Bower: Apartment hunting.
Bennett: What’s wrong with your apartment now?
“Why are you smiling like that?” Nolan asks while poking my face.
“Like what?” I ask, attempting to hide my smile, but it’s no use.
“Like you’re about to come in your pants.”
I raise a brow. “How do you know what I look like when I’m about to come in my pants?”
“Oh…I know.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to my phone to see her typing out a response.
“Who are you talking to?” Nolan presses.
“Just a friend.”
“Uh-huh.” I can feel his eyes burning into me. “You’re a fucking liar, dude. I don’t smile
like that when you text me.”
“Clearly you don’t love me enough,” I answer just as my phone buzzes.
Bower: Well, you see, I might be moving.
Bennett: To where? Almond Bay? Gabby will freak out if you finally move closer to her.
Bower: Funny, I will be moving closer to a Brinkman, just not her.
I can feel all the blood drain from my face and straight to my goddamn dick. My neck
heats up and I sit taller in my seat.
Bennett: Wait, are you moving to San Francisco?
Bower: I am.
“Holy fuck,” I say, sitting all the way up now.
“What?” Nolan asks, mouth full of burrito.
“My gi—uh, my sister’s friend is moving here.”
“Uh-huh, and why is that a holy fuck moment?” He wiggles his brows at me, and honestly,
what’s the use?
If I’m going to spill the beans, might as well be to someone who is not attached to the
situation at all. And fuck, to get this off my chest will feel good.
“Because I’ve had the biggest fucking crush on her ever since I’ve met her and no woman
compares to her. Ever. I’ve tried to shake her from my thoughts, from the way she’s branded
herself in my fucking soul, but it hasn’t worked. She’s perfect, everything about her. If she gets a
place here, it means I can finally make a move, a move that I’ve been waiting to make for so
goddamn long that it actually hurts.”
Nolan blinks, studies me, and then takes a bite of his burrito. “Right on, man.”
Right on? That’s all he has to say to my confession? To a secret I’ve been safeguarding for
so long?
Probably because that’s Nolan.
Now if this was OC I was telling, it would be a completely different reaction.
Chuckling, I go back to my messages with Bower, trying to play it cool even though I’m as
giddy as a fucking kid on Christmas morning.
Bennett: That’s awesome. When do you get here?
Bower: Well, Adalade—the woman I work for—wants to be in the city by next week. She
just bought a Victorian in Pac-Heights and all of her things are being moved there in two days,
which means I have to be in San Fran in one day to make sure I’m at the new place for arrival.
Which means this girl needs to find a place and soon.
One day.
One fucking day.
My smile stretches from ear to ear.
Bennett: You can always stay with me until you find a place.
Please say yes, please say yes.
Bower: I was actually looking at a unit in your apartment building. Would that be weird?
Fuck no. Is she kidding?
That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard since I was called up to the majors.
If she’s in the same apartment building, we could…hell, we could have dinner together, we
could bring each other sugar…she can slowly start to realize that I’ve had a mad crush on her for
so fucking long that maybe, just maybe she’d give me a chance.
Bennett: Not weird at all. Might be helpful. I could show you around, introduce you to
people.
Bower: People, huh? And who would these people be, Bennett?
Bennett: You know, the people who make the coffee around the corner, the building’s
security guys, and the one neighbor on floor twelve who has the same meal delivered to them
every night.
Bower: Ooo, busybodies, you know I like the gossip. Count me in. I’m headed into the city
tomorrow with all my things, and I’m going to check out the apartment. Can I crash on your
couch for a night?
My mouth goes dry and I can’t type fast enough. Thank FUCK we are in town right now,
because if we had away games, I might have cried.
The words of a desperate man.
Bennett: Absolutely. Stay as long as you want.
Bower: You’re the absolute best. Thanks, Benny Boo Boo.
“Do you have a boner right now?” Nolan asks as he gingerly pats his face with a napkin.
“No,” I answer, even though, hell, my excitement of seeing her tomorrow might possibly
get me into boner territory.
“Looks like you have a boner.”
I glance down at my lap, only for Nolan to let out a wallop of a laugh.
“Made you look,” he says like a dick.
Irritated, I slap his burrito out of his hand, causing it to fall into his lap.
Fire builds in his eyes as he looks up at me. “You motherfucker.” I stand from the recliner
as he yells, “You better run!”
I take off toward the weight room to get in some reps before he can catch up.
The woman who owns my heart will finally be in my neighborhood… About fucking time I get to
make that move. ...
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