Chapter 7

I stumbled into the kitchen,my eyes barely opened and my hair was a mess from tossing in the night. Parker was already there, sitting at the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in front of him, chewing obnoxiously.

"Morning," he said without looking up, his spoon diving in for another scoop. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep well," I admitted, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

He finally glanced up, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the oversized sweatshirt I had on. "You still have on Reese's hoodie?"

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly conscious of the soft fabric that still had his scent clinging to it. "Yeah, it got chilly last night, and he offered it to me… It's comfy."

Parker's eyebrow quirked up, with a questionable look on his face. But before he could voice his thoughts, I reached for a mug, hoping to distract him from questioning me further about it.

"Want some coffee?" I asked, forcing a small smile as I started to refill the water in the coffee machine.

"Sure," his gaze lingered on the sweatshirt as if signaling that I should probably take it off. "I'm guessing you didn't see the argument between Boston and Reese last night?"

I paused, the mug I was holding nearly slipping from my grasp. "Argument? No, what happened?"

He sat his bowl down on the counter. "It happened in the hallway at the party. They started shoving each other, and I thought they were going to throw down right there."

"Seriously?" I leaned back against the counter, surprised. Boston wasn't one to start fights, but I knew he wouldn't back down either. I wondered when this could have happened—probably at some point when Willow was introducing me to people around the party.

"Reese has always had a smart mouth and a temper," Parker's eyes met mine, with a glint of concern. "It looked like maybe they bumped into each other, which started it. Then, he told Boston not to forget whose team he was on. That it was his."

"His team?" Who did he think he was? The Blue Devils belonged to no one. Boston was just as much a part of that team as Reese was.

"Yep," Parker said under his breath. "He threatened to have Boston thrown off the team if he didn't watch himself. I don't get why he's always had something against him."

"Me either. Why does Reese think he owns the team?"

"He pretty much does," he shrugged. "That's why he's so cocky."

"Because of his dad?" I asked.

"Yeah, his dad pays for everything. Without his donations, I don't know if there would be a team. Probably why he acts untouchable."

"Wow..." I searched for the right words, feeling the heat from the mug radiate into my palms. "That's messed up. I had no idea that happened."

"You know how Bayside is—filled with privilege and power." Parker reached for his mug, blowing on the surface before taking a cautious sip. "Hope they can pull their shit together before our first game next week."

I nodded nervously, now worried about how the game was going to go.

"Speaking of," he said, crumpling a napkin in his hand with a simple motion, "I'll wake up Boston while you get dressed. We gotta get to the field."

I paused mid-sip as I turned to face him, my movements punctuated by a sense of sudden intrusion into my planned lazy morning. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because," Parker continued, clearly annoyed he had to explain further, "We have to go grocery shopping after we get our uniforms." He opened the empty fridge and pointed inside.

I let out an exaggerated huff, dropping my cup in the sink. "Fine."

I quickly changed into an outfit that Parker would deem more appropriate and tagged along.

"Chandler, come on! Coach said he'd have the uniforms ready by now," Parker called back to me, frustrated that I wasn't keeping up with him and Boston.

"Right behind you!" I hoisted the strap of my bag higher onto my shoulder and picked up my pace.

Parker and Boston disappeared into the clubhouse, leaving me standing alone outside the building. I noticed a group of people playing a casual game of softball. They were all having a good time, laughing and teasing each other. My eyes immediately landed on Reese, who was pitching, of course—and looking as gorgeous as ever despite the scorching heat.

"Chandler!" Willow spotted me and jogged over. "Come be on my team! We need one more player to bat."

"Willow, I don't know—" I began, hesitating as I looked over my shoulder for Parker or Boston.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Her bubbly personality was hard to resist. "Don't make me beg."

"Alright, fine," I conceded with a laugh, dropping my bag to the ground as I followed behind her.

"Besides," she whispered as I followed her, "you get to bat against Reese. Maybe knock that cocky smile off his face when you hit a home run."

"One can only dream," I laughed, eyeing Reese's confident stance on the mound. His eyes flicked toward us briefly, acknowledging my approach with a slight nod.

"Chandler's up!" Willow announced to the field, and a few heads turned—some with curiosity, others with a smile that the game was back in action.

"Let's see what you've got, little Hartford," Reese taunted.

With a deep breath, I squared up to the plate, determined to focus, to hit it as hard as I could back at Reese, to show him that I had much more in me than just Parker's little sister.

I took my stance at home plate, and he locked eyes with me before he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing a flash of those unfairly sculpted and perfectly toned abs.

"Bring it in close, boys!" he yelled out to the outfielders with an impish smirk as he made a gesture with his hand. I narrowed my eyes and tightened my grip on the bat, angry that he would underestimate me.

"Jerk," I whispered under my breath, as I leaned in closer to the plate.

"Did you say something?" he raised his chin.

"Just throw the ball," I snapped back.

"You asked for it," he drawled before winding up.

Reese's smirk grew as he started his windup, but I knew something he didn't—I wasn't some amateur. He had no idea how many days I spent practicing and playing in the backyard with Parker and Boston.

His pitch came hurtling towards me, and I was ready. The ball rocketed off the bat, aimed straight at Reese's ego.

"Nice hit!" a voice from behind me cheered, and I knew without looking it was Willow. It bolstered my confidence as I watched the ball do exactly what I'd intended—served as a fuck off to Reese.

It just missed his head as he ducked—a flash of surprise in his smug eyes. The line drive shot past him, soaring far beyond what the outfielders had anticipated. They scrambled back, their shoes kicking up dirt and grass, but the ball was beyond their reach, slicing through the field.

I shot a wink at Reese and didn't wait to see where it landed. Then, with a nonchalant flick of the wrist, I tossed the bat aside and walked off the field. My heart pounded—not just for the hit, but for the obvious message sent. I could still feel Reese's gaze on me as I walked away, burning with something that might have been respect—or maybe the sting of being shown up around his friends.

Boston smiled as he watched by the clubhouse. He leaned against the brick wall, his arms crossed. "Too bad you just missed him."

"Missed?" I echoed, reaching for my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. "I didn't miss. Just wanted to give him a warning this time." I smiled and shrugged innocently.

"Warning, huh?" Parker laughed, bumping fists with me. "Well, consider the message received. Loud and clear."

"I think that's game, my friends!" Parker yelled out, the excitement lacing his words enough to draw snickers from a few of their teammates.

There was no stopping the smile that spread across my face with satisfaction as I left the field behind me.

A week later, the sun beat down on the back of my neck as I sat in the bleachers—the metal benches were scorching beneath me. My heart pounded with excitement and nerves as I watched the players warming up on the field below.

Boston shot a wink at me before catching the ball and tossing it back to Parker. They were both dressed in their new uniforms, the bright white pants and bold blue jerseys were gleaming.

Willow plopped down on the bench beside me with two cold sodas in hand. "Here," she sighed, passing me one. "It's so hot out here. I'm practically melting."

"Thanks." I pressed the icy can to my cheek, relishing the coolness.

"I hope they do well today," she shielded her eyes from the sun as she watched the team practice. "Dad's nervous, I can tell."

"Your dad really knows how to inspire them," I responded, watching the coach get the players pumped up for the game.

"Yep, he's been coaching for as long as I can remember," Willow added. "I've loved every minute of watching him. You know, I want to be just like him one day."

"Coaching?" I asked, surprised but intrigued.

"Absolutely!" Willow bubbled with excitement. "Whether it's softball or even breaking into the baseball world, I want to make a difference, just like he does. It's not just about teaching the game, it's about building confidence, and creating a team that's more like a family."

I laughed softly, admiring her ambition. "I can totally see you doing that, Willow. And shaking things up while you're at it."

"For sure." Willow's smile was full of promise. "Just wait and see. I'm going to coach a team to victory one day."

I cracked open my soda. "Well, Boston was talking nonstop about this game. And I know Parker wants to impress all the girls here today, too," I said with a laugh.

Willow rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

The announcer's voice suddenly boomed over the loudspeaker, jolting me from my thoughts. "Alright folks, it's time for the first pitch..."

Reese appeared from out of the dugout and walked to the mound, confident in every step.

Around me, girls whispered and giggled.

"There's Reese, he's so hot."

"I know, right? Those eyes..." another sighed dreamily.

I rolled my eyes and looked away. Of course, they were drooling over him. As he went into his motion on the mound, his muscles flexed, and the green of his eyes flashed brightly beneath his cap.

A tiny part of me understood their awe. With his bad-boy reputation, dangerous charm, and wealthy family, Willow said that Reese had always drawn attention from all the girls in town. I wondered if there was more to him underneath the surface.

A few rows up, Blair leapt to her feet, clapping and cheering as Reese threw his first pitch. "Let's go, Reese!" she shouted. "You got this, babe!"

I exhaled, sinking lower in my seat. Blair, the perfect, beautiful girlfriend was back to claim her territory. She was wearing a shirt with the number two on it, Reese's number.

As the game ended, the crowd erupted into cheers as number twenty-nine, Boston, slid into home plate, sealing the victory for the team. Parker jumped up from the dugout, pumping his fist in the air. I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, my heart swelled with pride for them.

They all played so well today. Parker did great behind the plate and Boston had three outs at shortstop plus the game-winning run. He was glowing as he high-fived his teammates, flashing that signature crooked smile that made all the girls swoon. And Reese, he had pitched a hell of a game. Sure, he was arrogant, but there was no denying his talent.

As the team gathered around home plate, I saw Reese approach Parker with his hand held out for a fist bump. Parker returned it enthusiastically and said something that made Reese laugh. Before I knew it, Boston had joined them, and the three of them were celebrating their victory. I never thought I'd see the day when Reese and Boston were on the same team, let alone winning together. I guess I had underestimated their sportsmanship. Maybe underneath the rivalry, they respected each other as athletes.