I nodded. "You assume correctly."
"Now, that was awesome," June said.
The others laughed and kept chatting, but I felt Chase shift a bit closer. He dropped his voice so only I could hear.
"Speaking of which," he said, "what did you mean by interesting?"
"Hmm?"
"The kiss. You said it was interesting."
I nodded.
"How so?" he asked.
"Well, whenever you kiss someone new, it's always different."
His eyes turned bright. "Is it really?"
Okay, that definitely supported my first-kiss theory, but I still couldn't be sure.
"Yeah." I shrugged. "People have different kissing techniques. You know how it is."
Chase shook his head. "I don't actually, but I'd love to hear more."
Before I could respond, he frowned and put his arm along the back of the booth behind my shoulders. I looked to it then back to him in question.
"There's a man over there looking at you," he said quietly. "Jealous boyfriend, remember?"
I nearly laughed as he gave whoever it was a glare.
"Nice," I said.
"I try."
Chase turned to me again, his lips tipped up.
"Hey, thanks for your help today at the game," he said. "I don't think the other Wolves noticed. But I did."
I sniffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't." Chase let out a low scoff. "Just please promise you won't try to distract me if I ever get back out there. Sellers never stood a chance. Not sure I'd fare much better."
"I thought baseball players were trained to ignore distractions," I said.
"We are," he said. "For some reason, though, I couldn't take my eyes off of you."
There was no way I was blushing. None.
"So, I hear you recommended this place."
I tried not to notice how close our faces were. "Yeah, I found it a few years ago by accident. Village Pizza is a little hole-in-the-wall gem. Not only is it unique. They have the best food in the universe."
"It's amazing," Chase said, glancing around, his gaze appreciative. "I haven't tried the pizza yet, and I already want to come back."
"I love it here," I said.
"I can see why."
"You should definitely try the pizza."
"Oh, I will. In a second."
"Why wait?"
"Because I'm having too much fun talking to you."
I blinked. His words washed over me like a bucket of ice water. I felt the sudden need to get out of there.
"Well, bye," I said as I rose from the table. More than a few pairs of eyes shot to me in confusion, Chase's included. "I should get home. I've got a lot of studying to do."
"But we rode here together," Honor said. "Is everything okay, Charlie?"
"Um hm, it's all good." I made sure to meet her eyes so she'd believe me. "You all can get a ride back from the guys, right?"
Archer nodded. "We took the SUV. There's plenty of room."
"Alright," I said. "See you girls at Magnolia house."
We said our goodbyes, and I was nearly to the door when a voice called my name.
"Charlie, wait."
Chase put a hand on my wrist, and that same electricity ran up my arm. The feeling was odd, not unpleasant per se…but it refused to be ignored. I stopped, turned to face him, thought about pulling away but didn't want him—or our friends—to see how affected I was. The whole table was staring, a bunch of nosey spectators. I couldn't really blame them. It was rare to see the two of us together.
"What's up?" I asked.
Chase had been staring at his hand on my arm, but at the question, he looked up.
"Why me?" he said.
I shook my head. "I'm not following."
"I mean, why did you choose me for the fake boyfriend role and not one of my brothers? Why did you kiss me?"
My mind went through several possible answers: Archer was Honor's guy, so that wasn't happening. June was basically in love with Baylor. It would've broken her heart if I'd used him—and despite what some people assumed when they look at me, I wasn't the type to steal someone else's man. That left Dex and Chase. Honestly, I didn't know Dex well, but he probably would've gone along with the kiss. Some people thought he was intimidating, and he gave off that vibe. I'd dated guys with scars, piercings and tattoos before, though, so I wasn't fazed by his appearance. And his sarcasm kind of matched mine. I didn't have a good response for Chase, so I played it off.
"You were the first one I saw," I said with a shrug, "I just acted, and I didn't think you'd mind too much."
"Ah." Chase's eyes flashed. "I see."
"Like I said, don't read anything into it."
"Got it," he said. "Well, it was an honor playing your boyfriend. Drive safe, Charlie."
I swallowed as he backed away, wasn't sure he realized it, but his touch lingered, trailing down my skin. A slow glide from wrist to palm to fingertips. When our hands finally disconnected, I felt the loss somewhere inside my chest. Put it down to heartburn from the pizza.
Hurrying to the car, I shut the door and started the engine.
His questions replayed in my head: Why me? Why did you kiss me?
The truth was as unsettling as it was surprising.
Why did I kiss Chase?
Because I hadn't even considered anyone else.
I'd only wanted him.
I hadn't even seen the others.
Just him.
The thought propelled me forward, and I pulled out of the parking lot. I decided to take my own advice and not read too much into it. The electricity was probably just a result of heatstroke from the game, the flutters in my stomach I put down to indigestion.
I wanted to check the rearview mirror, almost did a couple of times, but I forced my eyes straight ahead. Even though I didn't look, somehow I knew Chase was there, watching as I drove away.
CHAPTER 6: Chase
Was it normal to still be thinking about your first kiss days afterward?
Was that just a girl a thing? Or did guys do it, too?
Did I even care?
Nope, I decided as the image of Charlie flashed before my eyes, the look on her face as she'd leaned in, her hushed words, the kiss that short-circuited my brain. The memory washed over me, and I didn't even try to stop it. A smile came to my lips unbidden as sweat ran down my face.
Honestly, I was thankful for the distraction.
Workouts were one of my favorite things. I loved activating my body, pushing myself. Today, though, was harder than usual. When I wasn't thinking of Charlie and the surprise kiss, the fact that Dr. T hadn't called yet kept intruding. The wait was killing me. Did it mean something? Good or bad, I thought I would've heard by now. The doc's office was closed Sundays. I'd been waiting all Monday to hear, was sure I would by noon.
But nothing.
Noon had come and gone, and still…no word from Dr. T.
I'd gone to one of the many exercise rooms in the gym, trying to get a handle on myself, lessen my anxiety.
Running wasn't hacking it, so I'd opened a book, placed it on the treadmill controls as I jogged. I hadn't turned the page once. The music pumping through my headphones wasn't helping either. The scene from Saturday at the pizza place replayed in my mind, and I closed my eyes, feeling my lips turn up once more.
I felt a whoosh of air and opened my eyes.
Baylor was standing next to me, saying something. He frowned and gestured to my headphones.
Realizing I'd run a couple miles more than I'd intended, I stopped the machine, turned off the music, and faced him.
"Hey, what's up?" I said.
Baylor rolled his eyes. "Geez Chase. Only you would be smiling while doing cardio. What were you thinking about?"
I shrugged. "Nothing."
"Looked like something."
"I just like working out.
"
Liar, my mind whispered. You like thinking of a certain blond with fire in her eyes.
"Me, too," Baylor said. "But I only look like that when my mind's on baseball—or a girl."
"Good for you," I said, hoping the deflection wasn't too obvious.
"Getting hot and sweaty is a lot more fun with a partner. Just saying."
"Nice, Bay. You're a master at TMI."
"And you're crazy," he shot back. "Did you turn your phone off or something?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do that when I exercise. You know I don't like being disturbed."
Baylor ignored my pointed look and lifted his brows. "Even when you're waiting on a certain phone call?"
Though I was in cool down mode, my heart started beating faster.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"Your doctor called," he said. "Or he tried to, a bunch of times."
"What?"
"Yeah, couldn't get through, so he phoned mom's office. Said it was too important to leave a message. She's got him on hold now."
I blinked. "And you couldn't have led with that?"
"I got distracted by your weirdness, and…good Lord, is that a book?"
It was like someone suddenly shouted squirrel. Ugh.
"Do you know how many videos there are of people falling off treadmills, Chase?" he added. "Don't get me wrong. It's freaking hilarious. But trust me, it's not pretty."
"Baylor, what the heck's wrong with you?" He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "You deliver this important info, and now instead of moving out of the way so I can leave, you're lecturing me on proper treadmill usage? Man, you're messed up."
My twin gave a sniff. "Only trying to be helpful."
I rolled my eyes. "You think I can't see the phone in your hand? A hundred bucks says you pulled it out to record on the off chance I went down. Now, tell me I'm wrong?"
"It didn't even occur to me," Baylor said with a straight face.
But I waited, narrowed my eyes.
A second later, he grinned and added, "But if I happened to capture Southern U's star pitcher getting owned by a treadmill, it would totally go viral."
"I knew it," I said.
"Can you blame me? It would've been funny as hell."
"There's something not right in that head of yours."
"Hey, I'm not the one smiling while I exercise. That's just wrong."
Hopping off the treadmill, I wiped my face and elbowed him as I walked past.
"Jerk," I muttered.
"Is that any way to treat your favorite brother?" he asked, feigning hurt.
"Who says you're my favorite?"
Baylor scoffed as we reached the head coach's office.
"Come on, I'm everyone's favorite," he said.
"My favorite would've told me the life-altering message immediately," I said back.
"I came to get you, didn't I?"
As I was about to push inside, Baylor laid a hand on my arm. I looked over to him and paused.
"I didn't know what it meant," he said quietly. His tone was serious as he met my gaze. "The fact that the doc wouldn't leave a message. It made me nervous."
For you.
He left the last part unsaid, but I heard it just the same.
"It's okay," I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Remember what Dad used to tell us? Bravery isn't the absence of fear."
"It's being afraid and doing it anyway." Baylor nodded.
"Believe me, I'm not going into this without fear. My arm feels good. I've been throwing the ball, not at full speed but almost, and it hasn't hurt. Still, I need to hear what the doc has to say."
"I feel you," he said. "Whatever comes, we'll deal with it together."
His words made me swallow because I knew they were true. My family had my back just as much as I had theirs. It had always been that way, and I was forever grateful. With a deep breath, I opened the door, and we walked inside.
The nameplate on her desk read Coach Daisy O'Brien.
When we were on the field, we all called her "Coach." But the look on her face now as we entered, a mix of love and worry as she looked the two of us over, would've told anyone watching that she was our mother. You just couldn't fake that look.
"Chase," she said, holding the phone out to me, "Doctor Taggart's on the line. He says he has an update on your arm."
I looked at the phone then to her face. "Did he speak to you already?"
She shook her head. "No, he only wants to talk to you."
Taking another deep breath, I lifted my chin. "You can put him on speaker."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'll share whatever he says with you and Bay anyway—and the whole family after that, including the guys on the team."
All people who I didn't want to let down.
Mom nodded. "I am here for you, Chase. One hundred percent, no matter how this goes. I hope you know that."
Even with her busy schedule as head coach of the Wolves, she'd been there with me for nearly all of my appointments following the accident. I knew she was as invested in this as I was. Not just as my coach but as my mother.
"I do, Mom."
"I love you," she said.
Baylor gave me a nod. "Me, too, bro."
I forced a laugh. "I love you guys, too. Now, let's get this over with already."
Mom hit the button, and I sent up one last silent prayer.
"Hi Doctor Taggart," Mom said. "Chase is here with me now."
"Hi Dr. T," I said. "Sorry about the wait."
"Oh no need to apologize," he said. "I would've called sooner, but we had an emergency come up at the hospital. I was able to get in touch with your physical therapist, and we talked it over, discussed your progress and came to an agreement. Ready to hear the results?"
"Sure," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as scared as I felt. "Hit me, Dr. T."
"We decided—"
I held my breath.
"—that you can start playing immediately."
The air whooshed out of my lungs at his words.
"Sorry," Baylor said, leaning forward. "Doc, this is Chase's better-looking, more-talented twin, Baylor. Can you repeat that?"
"Of course," the doctor said with a laugh. "Chase, you've healed faster than most of my patients. Your therapist and I have decided that you can start baseball again. We feel good about how far you've come since your injury. As far as we can tell, there is no permanent damage, and we see no reason why you shouldn't be able to play."
The room was quiet a beat then Baylor jumped up with a whoop.
"Hell yeah!" he said. "That's awesome doc, thanks."
"Yes, thank you for the good news," Mom said into the phone. "We are so excited and relieved. Aren't we, Chase?"
They were saying everything I should've been, but the shock still hadn't worn off.
"Yeah," I breathed. "Thanks."
Dr. Taggart chuckled as Baylor whooped again. "You put in the work, Chase," he said. "We just guided you in your recovery. Now, we do have a few more things to discuss. Coach O'Brien?"
"Yes, I'm here," Mom said.
"I feel it would be beneficial for Chase to have a private physical therapist at the games. Just as a precaution. His current PT can't commit to that. But I was hoping, since you work at Southern University, there might be someone in the department you can talk to?"
"Oh yes, absolutely. We can do that."
"And Chase will need to keep to his regimen of strengthening exercises and follow-up appointments—"
They kept talking, and I caught words here and there. But my mind was already outside, on the field, my cleats digging into the dirt. I was feeling so many things at once. I didn't know what to do with myself.
Baylor put a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to find him grinning.
"You're allowed to be excited," he said.
"I am," I replied.
He ga
ve my shoulder a light shake. "You're back in the game, brother. You are back."
I knew my smile was eating up my face because it was true. Dr. T had approved it. My PT agreed. Was this actually happening?
"Our next game is this Thursday," I heard Mom say to the doc. "Do you think Chase will be ready by then?"
"That's up to you, Coach. But by all accounts, he should be."
And there it was.
Baylor was right.
Baseball, here I come.
This had to be one of the best days of my life.
#
Bay sent out a group text after that meeting. Everyone was excited to hear about my return. My family and teammates even wanted to throw me a party, but I convinced them to hold off. I knew I'd let them do it. Even if I didn't like parties, how could I spoil their fun? But all that would have to wait.
It was time for the hard work to begin.
Being well enough to pitch, and pitching my best were two very different things.
I'd been holding back all this time, giving myself time to heal, praying for strength to return. But now, I had to kick it into high gear.
Turned out that was easier said than done.
"You're holding back," Archer said as he tossed me the ball.
"I'm not," I said.
"Yes, you are. I know what it usually feels like to catch one of your fastballs. Put some heat on the next one."
"I'm giving it all I've got, Arch."
He lifted a brow at that, and though I was annoyed and tired, I couldn't help but laugh.
"Were you always so bossy?" I said. "Or is this a recent development?"
"Funny," he said. "Now, let's go."
Archer got back into position behind the plate as I took the mound once more. My arm was tired. We'd only been at it give or take thirty minutes. And my arm was already tired. This never used to happen before the injury.
Shaking that off, I stared at Arch. He gave the signal for a fastball, and I nodded. The pitch was good—but it wasn't anywhere near my finest. I knew it even before he spoke.
"That's a little better," he said then gestured to my arm. "Why don't we take a break? We can come back at it again tomorrow."
I shook my head. "But we've only got a couple days."
"Did you find a physical therapist to shadow you at the games?"
The Perfect Play (Southern U O'Brien Brothers) Page 5
