Chapter Eighteen

Tristan

The alcove to the right of the patio was the best-kept secret at Suttonville. It was just a little walled-in cubby, nothing much, but it was hidden from the cafeteria’s view. Tristan and his ex had sneaked back here on more than one occasion. It had probably been used to hold some kind of equipment at one time, but now it was a ten-by-ten square of near invisibility.

Still, this wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Not with the poor excuse he’d given Dylan—“I need to stretch my legs before class”—and Lauren still sitting at a table not far from the windows. But when he’d seen Alyssa leave, a tug had brought him to his feet not two minutes later. Maybe it was the thrill—or the relief—of possibly being caught. Maybe it was the sight of her curly hair, glowing with red highlights in the sun.

Maybe he was just desperate to see her after all the drama last night.

He leaned against the wall facing the little archway and smiled when she ducked inside.

She looked around at the walls, nodding, before flashing him a coy grin. “I had no idea this was even here.”

“That’s the point.” His pulse sped up as he pushed off the wall. “I needed to see you.”

She walked over slowly, stopping just short of touching him. “Same.”

“I hate that we can’t be open about this.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. Her hair smelled like spring flowers, and it was soft against his cheek. “Does it make me a bad person to want something I have to hide?”

“We won’t have to hide it forever.” Her breath tickled his neck. “Just until after Allen.”

But it wouldn’t be just after Allen—if they won, Dylan would be on tap to pitch again in the state championship game. God, Tristan was such an asshole for not telling her that, but he hoped she’d understand if they won the game on Friday. “We might lose our friends over this… Are you willing to risk it for a guy you’ve known less than a week?”

She looked up at him, and her eyes caught him. That green could hypnotize a serpent. “There are some people you just know after two days, and there are others you realize you never did after ten years. I love Lauren, but the last several months… I’m probably being petty, but I feel like she wants me around to be her shadow or her mirror or something. As long as it’s about her, or something related to things she likes, we’re fine. But, for once, I want this to be about me. Is that terrible?”

Tristan kissed her temple. “Not even a little bit. Dylan’s been a great friend to me, and a teammate, so this is harder. Still, I totally understand what you mean about knowing someone right off.” He gave her a goofy grin. “You’re good people, Alyssa Kaplan.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and chuckled against his collarbone. “That sounded like something my Meemaw would’ve said. But…” She grinned up at him. “You’re damn good people yourself, Tristan Murrell.”

Willing the bell not to ring and put an end to things, Tristan brushed her lips with his, and she responded, hungrily. With his first girlfriend, it had been weeks of flirting before they even went out. That had been a special relationship, but this was entirely different. Alyssa lit him on fire, made him want to climb a mountain just to show off for her. Maybe this is what a soulmate was—someone who got you, right away, and made you want to spend every waking minute with that person, no matter how hard it would be.

And he damn well would…as soon as he could figure out how to let Dylan down easy.

“So… Guh, just a second.” Dylan panted for breath. Coach had run them through sprint drills right after warm-ups, and no one had their wind back yet.

“Don’t…try to…talk.” Tristan sank onto the bench in the dugout and put his head between his knees to ward off the dark spots behind his eyes.

“You guys need to jog more during the off-season.” Kyle Sawyer strolled by, barely sweating. “Work on that lung capacity.”

Tristan grimaced and flipped him off. Good-naturedly, but still. The guy was a beast.

Kyle laughed and patted him on the head. “Awww, should I call your mommy?”

“Shut up, Sawyer.” Tristan gave him the eye. “Bad air today, that’s all.”

Kyle frowned and looked at the sky. The wind at lunch had died, leaving an oppressive, humid afternoon behind—the kind of afternoon that sparked ozone alerts and calls for inhalers. “You know, I think there’s a storm on the way.”

If Kyle said it, it was truth. Tristan was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Kyle was a landscaping genius, but his own parents’ lawn—they were new customers—didn’t lie. Tristan sat up and eyed a dark smudge on the horizon. “You might be right.”

If it stormed, practice would be called early…which meant he could meet up with Alyssa sooner. “I hope it does rain.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “We need the practice, dude.”

“Um, yeah.” Tristan grabbed his glove for fielding practice. “You’re right. I’m just tired or something.”

Kyle continued to watch him as they jogged across the field to their positions. “Sure you’re okay? Your hitting seems to be coming back some.”

“Some.” Tristan caught the ball from second base and threw it to Kyle.

“You’re doing fine. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got what it takes.” Kyle threw the ball back. “And Dylan is going to smoke Allen. He looks great.”

It was true—Dylan did look great, determined and ready to kick ass. Guilt clawed up Tristan’s throat. “I think so, too.”

Except, while Dylan looked good, his fastball left Tristan swinging at air, and increasingly frustrated. Even when he tried to think about Alyssa, he couldn’t hit a damn thing. It wasn’t just bad head space—the guilt was choking him off from whatever part of his brain controlled hitting. He stalked down to the dugout and traded his aluminum bat for a wooden one.

“Dude, settle down!” Dylan yelled when he came back to the batter’s box. “You’re supposed to be coddling me, not the other way around.”

Tristan sighed and stepped back into the batter’s box. He could feel every eye in the dugout on his back. He shifted his stance and centered his weight.

You’re thinking too hard, a voice remarkably like Alyssa’s murmured in his head. Try again.

He let out a slow breath as Dylan wound up. Another fastball, eighty-five-plus miles an hour. Tristan let his arms move without forcing it. Crack!

The ball flew to left field, dropping into the corner—a stand-up double. Tristan let himself relax, and his arms shook. Nerves, adrenaline, who knew? It felt good to make contact, though.

“Good one!” Dylan gave him a thumbs-up. “Let me torture someone else, yeah?”

Tristan waved at him and jogged back to the dugout. Kyle eyed him shrewdly. “What came over you out there?”

“Nerves, I guess.” Tristan shoved his bat into his equipment bag and dropped onto the bench next to Kyle.

“No, when you hit the ball.” Kyle jerked his chin toward home plate. “Your whole stance changed. You loosened up, centered your body, the whole thing. What did you do to fix it?”

Tristan bent to dig in his bag to avoid eye contact. “Just thought about something other than baseball, I guess.”

Not strictly true, but true enough. He sat up to find Kyle giving him an odd look. “Who is she?”

“What?” Tristan’s heart started beating an unsteady rhythm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Look, I was good before Faith showed up, but…” Kyle gave him a cocky smirk. “But we both know I’m pretty awesome now.”

Tristan took his time pulling off his batting gloves, wondering how Kyle knew. And if he knew, how long before Dylan suspected something? “You were already awesome.”

“Yes, but I’m more awesome. Being with her took the edge off, you know?” To Tristan’s surprise, Kyle blushed. The dude blushed. “Having her around makes me better at everything.”

There was a slight hitch on the word “everything,” and Tristan stared at him. In the past, Kyle hadn’t stuck with a girl for more than a few days, far as Tristan knew, yet he’d been with Faith for a while now, and it was clearly making an impact.

Alyssa had already done the same for him.

Tristan glanced at Dylan, who was trash-talking their first baseman from the mound. Could Kyle keep a secret? Tristan needed to talk to someone, someone who’d tell him if he was being an idiot or not. He motioned Kyle closer. “There is a girl. I met her last weekend, but I’m crazy about her. She, uh, she knows a few things about baseball, too.”

Kyle cocked his head. “Okay, who is it? And why are you acting like this is a state secret?”

Tristan glanced back at the mound. The pitching coach was up there now, talking to Dylan. “Because Dylan likes her. I had no idea she was the girl he wanted to ask out until after I did.”

Kyle let out a low whistle. “That’s not good.”

“I know! I don’t want to upset him before the game. Luckily, Alyssa understands—”

“Alyssa? As in Faith’s friend, Alyssa?” Kyle leaned back against the dugout, a pained expression on his face. “Do you know her other friend, Lauren, likes you?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Okay, that’s a mess,” Kyle said. “Can I tell Faith? I think she was going to try to set Lauren up with you.”

Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“What’s not happening?”

Tristan’s head whipped around to find Dylan standing right behind him. He didn’t look suspicious or pissed, so maybe he hadn’t heard anything. “That, um, Kyle thinks I have a hitch in my swing for real.”

Kyle shot him a pointed look but nodded. “He’ll get over it, but he’s going to have to work out his issues.”

Dylan looked between them, forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Um, okay. Sorry about that, man.”

A rumble of thunder put a stop to any more awkward questions. Coach was calling the second string in from the field, and a dark gray cloud was rolling slowly toward them.

“That’s it for today.” Coach peered up at the sky, looking like he was about to shake his fist at the cloud. “Only good news is Allen is probably going to be rained out, too.”

“But they have an indoor facility to practice in,” Dylan muttered. Then he paused. “What about the batting cages?”

“At Top Sports? Those are outside,” Kyle said. “No-go there.”

“No, what about that old place just outside of town? Maybe they’re open—it’s indoors.”

Kyle shrugged and glanced at Tristan. “You want to come?”

Tristan’s insides had frozen over. He was so flipping stuck, all he could do was nod. This was going to be a disaster…but there was no way he was letting Dylan go to Swing Away alone. No way in hell.