Good Catch, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Carlie Jean
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2023
ISBN 9798372614239
Kindle Direct Publishing
Editor: Salma R.
Cover Designer: Cat Imb at TRC Designs
Formatting: Qamber Designs & Media W.L.L.
PR: Greys promotions
To my mom, who took me to the library all the time as a kid and inspired my love for books. Now you may want to take me to church after reading this.
Love you.
Playlist
Springsteen - Eric Church
Cover Me Up - Morgan Wallen
2002 - Anna Marie
Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean
Dilemma - Nelly ft. Kelly Rowland
Say You Won’t Let Go - James Arthur
ocean eyes - Billie Ellish
Still into You - Paramore
When We Were Young - Adele
Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift
Starving - Hailee Steinfield
Collide - Justine Skye ft. Tyga
Seein’ Red - Dustin Lynch
Dirty Little Secret - The Weekend
Acquainted - The All-American Rejects
Jealous - Nick Jonas
Everywhere - Michelle Branch
Tequila On A Boat - Dustin Lynch ft. Chris Lane
Chapter
One
Rylee
It’s funny how life works sometimes. At least that’s what an infamous quote said, right? But I’m failing to find humour in the situation I’m in. My brother’s best friend, Miles, returned home after being gone for the past six years.
Miles Anderson was, and I’m sure still is, cocky, hot-headed, and domineering. But growing up, he’d been different with me. Miles and I had a bond like no other friendships of mine. He never was solely my brother’s friend. We all started hanging out ever since the day we moved in beside him. But my special treatment ran out long ago, leaving me in the dust along with our friendship.
We haven’t spoken or seen one another in six years, and our friendship has ceased to exist since that night eight years ago. And I’m about to come face to face with him within the next half hour. How wonderful is that?
I quickly glance at my reflection in the rear-view mirror only to find irritated gray-blue eyes staring back at me. I puff out a breath of air, sending a loose wave of chocolate brown hair out of my sight. I take another deep, calming breath and try to refocus my mind for the upcoming game. Miles is only playing one game with us. I’ll barely even have to see him, let alone talk to him. He will play out in center field, and I will be far away at first base.
I’m about to spiral into a cloud of anxiety when my best friend Ava knocks on my trunk, signaling her presence. I jump from the startle and turn my car off.
It’s showtime.
Before I even have both feet out of my jeep, Ava starts rambling at a hundred miles a minute.
“Okay, I know this is stressing you out, but look, it’s only one game! Your brother is sorry for inviting him, but you know we needed a player with Jaxon gone on vacation, so we’re really sorry-”
I cut her off. “Ava, it’s not your fault, and you don’t have to speak for the both of you. It’s weird.” Ava and my brother Ryan started dating last year, which most people would think sucks, but honestly, having my best friend date my brother has not changed a thing. If anything, it’s made us closer, especially since Ryan and I live together.
“Right, sorry.” She smiles shyly, then continues as I head toward my trunk to take my ball bag out, “Can I ask you something?”
Slamming the trunk shut, I throw my bag over my shoulder and turn to face her. “Sure,” I say. My stomach is now doing somersaults and preventing me from saying anything else.
Ava stops walking beside me and pulls my arm to face her. Her brown eyes scan mine, and I can see she’s nervous to say what she’s about to say, which only makes the pool of anxiety in my gut deepen.
“Jesus, Ava, what is it?” I ask, clearly exasperated.
“Ok, fine. Why do you even hate him anyways? It’s been so long that I truly don’t even remember why you don’t like him,” she says hurriedly, as her grip on my arm tenses.
My heart twinges at her words, memories of the past flashing in my mind because of them. I put my hand softly over hers, “First of all, ow,” I laugh, and she quickly eases her grip, relaxing a bit.
I don’t really want to have this conversation before our game when I should be warming up. But I know she’s not letting me move an inch from this spot without an answer. That’s Ava for you. She’s headstrong, wild, and blunt, but I adore her regardless.
“Miles used to be my best friend. We met when I was 7, and he used to hang out all the time with Ryan and I since he lived next door. But once I got to high school, everything changed. He just stopped talking to me while he and Ryan kept going out but without me. I never knew why,” I explain somewhat truthfully, deciding to leave out the major event that was the catalyst for that change. Although I’m 23 now, the memories from what feels like a lifetime ago float through my mind.
Our parents were best friends, and the proximity of our houses meant we did everything together. I don’t think there was a day we didn’t see one another.
Ava shifts from side to side as she weighs her next words before curling her lips up into a devious smile. “Maybe once he got to high school and his raging hormones kicked in, he realized how in love with you he was and just stopped talking to you to avoid an awkward situation with Ryan?”
My stomach plummets. Where the fuck did that come from? I realize I must have said it out loud when I look at Ava’s horror-struck face.
“Woah, calm down. I was just trying to lighten the mood. But,” she pauses, and I eye her closely before she blurts out the rest. “It’s not totally impossible, you know. Boys are idiots and do stupid things, remember?”
“Do you remember? Because right about now, all 8 of your exes are popping into mind when I hear the words idiot and stupid, and you for dating them,” I tease, elbowing her in the arm. Diverting conversations is my second language. Although I have thought of her theory once, I quickly dismissed it. I was far from the type of girl Miles was usually interested in.
“Hey, look. I made some bad choices, but it all worked out because now I have my honey bun.” She smiles as we start walking toward diamond 3.
“Gross,” I snicker.
We put our bags in the dugout before putting our shoes on to warm up. I look around and notice we’re not the first ones here. The whole team is, except for our captain, which also happens to be my brother. Oh, and Miles. He’s also not here yet. Thank god.
Our coed softball team consists of me, Ava, Ryan, Jaxon, Claire, Brandon, Eric, Katie, Sean, and Lindsay. We have great chemistry, on and off the field. When we’re not playing a game, you can usually find us all in one spot or at least a few of us. Simply put, we’re like a family.
The best thing about our group is how well-rounded our careers are. Need an electrician? Brandon has you covered. An accountant? Ava is studying to be one. A nurse? Ryan is at your service. If you need a teacher? Well, that’s me. A lawyer? Talk to Katie. Ever need your teeth cleaned? Claire would be happy to. That’s exactly why Miles will not fit in with our team. Our bond is already set, leaving no room for newcomers. Plus, I already filled the teacher spot. We don’t need another one on the team. And before you ask, no, I didn’t follow in his footsteps, but that’s a story for another day.
Thinking about him has my nerves kicking into high gear and my leg bouncing against the bench. They should be here any minute now. I try to picture what he looks like now, but I draw a blank. I haven’t kept up with anything about him over the years. Oh god, I wonder what he’ll think of me now? The last time he saw me, I was in grade 10. Let’s just say high school me and present me, are two very different people.
I shake my entire body to rid myself of these worries. Why the hell do I even care what he’s going to think? Screw him and his stupid thoughts. That’s my motto for the day.
“Hey beautiful, let’s go stretch,” Claire says as she walks into the dugout after throwing with Sean.
Claire is the opposite of Ava. She is softer, sweeter, and the mom of the group. As we reach the grass of the outfield, we begin stretching our arms, and I know she’s seconds away from giving me a pep talk.
“How are you holding up?” she asks, stretching her legs into a lunge.
I cross my other arm over my head and feel a crack in my neck as I take a minute to think her question over. I slide my arm back over my head and down to rest at my side as I attempt my signature smile and say, “Honestly, I’m about as nervous as Hannah Montana probably was when she revealed she was Miley. But other than that, I’m just peachy.”
We both break out into a fit of laughter. Once we come down from it, Claire
“Rylee, I love you, but I hate seeing you so worried over him. He’s not worth it. Don’t let him control another second of your brain, got it?” she commands.
“I won’t, I promise. I’m even going to do my best to be nice.” I spit out the last word because I know it’ll be a difficult task. How else am I supposed to act when he decided to vanish from my life with no explanation? It’s not on brand for me, as I’m usually the cheerful, peppy one of the group, but I’m willing to make an exception here.
We pull apart from the hug, and I spread my legs wide and forward to stretch my hamstrings. Claire mimics my actions. With my head upside down, my whole world seems to spin when I open my eyes and see none other than Miles Anderson for the first time in six years, approaching the field with my brother.
Our eyes lock and my breathing halts, my heart racing out of my chest. Even upside down, I can tell he’s aged well. Too well, dammit.
He waves at us and my conversation from thirty seconds ago is long forgotten as I shoot him my middle finger. Then, I fling my entire body back up before seeing his reaction.
“I thought you were going to be nice, Rylee?” Claire admonishes me as she waves at him and smiles.
“So did I, but actually seeing him in front of me required a change of plans,” I huff. My heart continues to pound so loudly that I’m sure he can probably hear it. “Shit, what do I do now? Why did I do that?”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. That man is smiling from ear to ear, even after you flipped him off,” she reassures me.
Confusion floods my system before transforming into irritation. Why would he smile about that? He must not understand my dislike toward him, but he will find out soon enough. I can feel his presence behind me, and I have the strong urge to run away while I can.
Just like he did.
Instead, I harness all the confidence I can muster and turn to face him before he approaches me first. My rapid breathing suddenly halts as I take in the man in front of me.
Miles towers over me by a few inches, just enough that he actually makes me feel small. Instead of letting my gaze linger on his body, my eyes fly up to his. Staring right into the green and blue shades I spent my entire childhood looking at fills me with a nostalgic ache for the people we once were to each other. The familiar feeling is instantly gone when I take in his face. A beard covers his sharp jaw where I once thought one would never grow, and his brown hair is neatly brushed to the side.
It’s hot as hell. I can still be annoyed with him and appreciate his good looks at the same time, right? God, I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now.
My brain is working overtime to account for all the changes to this new version of Miles. But as I bring my eyes back up to meet his, I realize he is doing the same thing.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Rylee Right. In case you forgot,” I say sarcastically. A fake smile spreads across my face and I cross my arms over my chest.
“I could never forget you Riles,” he says so softly I barely hear him. Riles is what he started calling me when we first met, a mash-up of both our names. No one calls me that except for him, and hearing it for the first time in so long stings.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” I lash out at him.
Fuck his nice guy act. It’s only pissing me off more. Is he really going to pretend like the last eight years didn’t happen?
“Look Ry, I’m just here to play baseball for one night,” he says, sounding defeated.
“And then you’ll disappear again for another six years? Thanks for the heads up this time.” The words tumble out of my lips harshly, my shoulders squaring up as I prepare for a battle.
“I’m actually staying in town for a bit until my sister has her babies,” he replies blankly, and I get the feeling that he’s trying to hide some other emotion. I just don’t know what it is yet.
“Great, just keep doing what you’ve been doing for the last few years, and we won’t have any issues,” I quip, my eyebrows raised as I shove past him and head toward the dugout.
My body is pumping with so much adrenaline that I have to clasp my hands together as I walk to keep them from shaking at my sides. I need to get a handle on what his presence is doing to me. On one hand, I hate him, but on the other, there’s a relief. A relief that has been waiting six years to be wrung out washes over me.
I’ve missed our banter, and now I’m second-guessing about being so mean to him.
No, my mind fights back. Stand your ground. Your feelings are valid.
But the problem is that my feelings are mixed in a tangle I can’t clearly see my way through.
I feel a rush of wind at my back right before I notice Ryan walking beside me. He runs a hand through his blonde waves and sighs, “Ry, quit this shit. Put your feelings aside for the game, and maybe try talking to him at some point. He’s your friend. Since when do you treat your friends like that?”
Typical Ryan, controlling and chastising me.
I sit on the picnic bench beside the dugout while he sits opposite me, waiting for a reply.
I slide the scrunchie off of my wrist and begin to tie my hair into a ponytail. “Don’t worry about the game. I’ll do what I need to do. As for Miles, we’re not friends, remember? So yes, this is how I treat people who hurt me.”
Ryan leans forward on the table, and his tone turns. “Look, we were young. Boys do stupid things. Friends grow apart. It wasn’t personal Ry.”
As much as I want to call bullshit on that, I bite my tongue. I know it’s useless to argue with my brother. Besides, the game is about to start, so instead, I muster up a smile and say, “Perfect, everything is solved then. Guys are idiots, noted.”
I stand and ruffle his hair as I walk past him to get my glove. He playfully swats me away in return. My telltale way to know whether he’s truly mad about a situation is to ruffle his hair. If he swats my hand playfully, we’re okay, but if he catches it mid-air, we’re not.
Once I make it to our team’s bench, I open my bag and reach for my glove when Ava and Claire appear at my side.
Can I get any peace before this game starts?
“Ry, are you even trying to be nice?” Claire asks, disappointment clear as day on her features. It actually makes me feel a bit guilty, but the adrenaline from my conversation with Miles is still coursing through my veins.
Ava chimes in before I can answer Claire. “Forget about that. Did you not see how he was looking at you?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks involuntarily, and my stomach sinks once again.
“If you mean like someone who’s pretending to be nice, but in reality is an asshole who owes me an apology, then yes, I did see that,” I say a little too loudly, as the anger takes over. He’s the only person to make me feel this way, and I hate it because it’s the complete opposite of how I usually am with everyone else.
Claire and Ava’s mouths fall open, and their eyes widen. Shit, he must’ve heard me since there’s no other reason for their expressions besides Miles being right behind me.
“Rylee…” Claire half whispers.
I hold my glove tight against my chest and turn to face him. My breath whooshes out of my lungs once again at the sight of him because of the hurt I can see painted all over his face. His eyebrows are drawn in, and the blue in his eyes is softer. His jaw clenches. I don’t like that he’s hurting, but his feelings aren’t my problem anymore.
He swallows down what I think he really wants to say before finally speaking. “Don’t drop anything at first.”
Just when I started feeling bad for hurting his feelings, he goes ahead and says that. I can’t even form words to throw back at him, so I simply roll my eyes and walk past him toward first base. I begin our warmup on the bases by rolling the ball to Eric who’s at third base. He scoops it up and whips it over his head directly to my glove.
Ow, that one stung.
I would have continued this with Ryan at shortstop, but of course Miles has to interrupt our perfect flow by stopping to do their handshake on his way to the outfield.
From this distance, I feel like I can put my guard down and take him in a bit more. His tall, athletic frame is not hard on the eyes in the slightest. He’s laughing now, a beautiful widespread smile on his face. He always had the best smile, and if I’m honest, I’m happy to see that hasn’t changed. His arms and back fill out the navy-blue jersey so well that I have to peel my eyes away and throw the ball to Katie at second base before anyone catches me staring for too long.
