“Trust me, Dad, you don’t want to know what’s on my mind.”
“All right. Well, did you have fun last night at least? Where did Kai take you?”
“To a bakery in the North End. He took me in hopes I’d get some inspiration for work since I can’t bake while we’re on the road.”
My dad slightly shakes his head. “He’s a good one.”
I find Kai again. He’s wearing a proud smile, looking down and watching his son walk into Fenway with him. All eyes are on him tonight as he takes the mound, but he’s only got eyes for Max.
“Yeah,” I exhale. “He is.”
I can feel my dad’s stare burning into the side of my head. “Do you know what you’re doing there?”
“Yes. I’ve got it handled. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him. We have rules in place to make sure of it.”
He squeezes me tighter. “And what about you? Are you going to get hurt?”
I huff a laugh. “Of course not.”
“Of course not,” he repeats dryly. “Because you, Miller, don’t let yourself get attached enough to get hurt, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, for both your sakes, just be careful, yeah?”
A week ago, he would’ve left me out of that statement. He would’ve told me to be cautious for Kai. Now, he sees it as clear as I do.
There’s potential for me to be in as much trouble as his pitcher.
With the team in the clubhouse, Max with his dad, and my dad in a coach’s meeting, I wander the maze of the visitor’s side of Fenway until I find the training room.
And when I open the door, my shoulders sag in relief to find it empty minus the one person I’m looking for.
“Kennedy, I need to talk to you.”
She’s organizing the tape, each one labeled with which player it’s for, because of course they all have a unique tape preference.
She peeks over her shoulder, her copper ponytail swinging. “You okay?”
“Yes.” I frantically pace the room. “No.”
A single brow raises as she turns around, arms crossed over her chest, leaning back on a massage table. She’s in her typical uniform of a Warriors polo, black yoga pants, team-issued sneakers, and topped with a make-up-less face, showing off her freckles.
“Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but I don’t have anyone I can talk to about this. And you’re the only other woman on the road and—”
“Miller, do you want to be friends?”
I pause in my tracks.
“Is that how it works? You just say it like that?”
Kennedy pops her shoulder. “Hell if I know. I’ve spent almost every day of the past three years with a bunch of dudes. I don’t have many girlfriends.”
A smile ticks up on my lip. “Same here.”
“So . . . friends?”
I hop my ass on a training table. “Friends. Now, I need to tell you something.”
“You fucked Ace.”
My mouth drops as Kennedy takes a seat on the table across from me.
“How did—”
“Oh please. That guy is walking around here today like his shit is made of gold. It’s obvious something happened between you two. Besides, he’s been pining after you since you got here.”
“Uh, not exactly. He wasn’t all that excited when I first showed up.”
She laughs and it holds no humor. “Yeah, well, I’m sure he wasn’t all that excited that he wanted to sleep with Monty’s daughter knowing how close the two of them are, but we all see how he looks at you.” She checks her nails as if this is the most mundane conversation of all time. I like that. I feel less frantic with how undramatic she is about it. “So, what’s the issue?”
What is the issue?
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Was it bad? Is it small?” Kennedy’s eyes widen, leaning forward, finally invested. “Oh my God, does Ace have a micro penis?”
“No! Trust me. Size was not the issue. Have you seen that man’s hands? He’s very . . . proportionate.”
“Damn. I work on those hands. How are you walking today?”
“No clue.”
“So, it was good then?”
I shake my head. “It was perfect.”
Kennedy’s face softens. “Is his magical giant penis confusing you?”
“Maybe? But I don’t know what I’m confused about. It’s casual and we both know that.”
She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Do you want it to be more than casual?”