RACHEL
“Can I get you anything else?”Maryanne asked me, motioning to my empty glass as we sat by the pool. The weather had turned cloudy and a little cool on Saturday morning, so instead of a nice late-June day of swimming, my sister and Silas were having their own two-person softball game in his parents’ huge yard.
“No thank you,” I said, still watching them.
I could tell Taylor was tiring out, but my sister wouldn’t stop until she got a hit.
“It’s cute that Silas still has his old equipment here.”
“Oh, I could never get rid of anything,” she said, chuckling as she waved a hand. “The glove is probably a little snug on his big adult hand, but he’s making do.”
I caught my sister’s frustrated sigh every time she swung and missed the ball. She was a good hitter when she made contact, but from what I could tell, her strength was on the field rather than behind the plate.
Silas walked up to her each time, fixing her stance and whispering something before he’d jog back to throw another pitch. I’d seen countless videos of him playing when I wrote the article. Lately, when I was down bad alone in my bed, missinghim and stalking baseball pages and YouTube clips into the early hours of the morning just to see his face.
Watching him do something as simple as jog or throw sent me into a pathetic trance. The way his body twisted when he’d swing, so strong and sure, had me droolingeverywhere.All that masculine grace and beauty would suck me in for hours until I’d fall asleep with the phone in my hand.
Silas was gorgeous and talented and, somehow, by an odd stroke of luck, all mine.
Taylor nodded after he called something out to her, and this time, the aluminum bat hit the ball with a loud crack, sailing over Silas’s head.
I smiled when she pumped her arms up in victory and then folded in exhausted relief.
“He’s a good coach,” I mused, not realizing I was getting choked up until my voice cracked.
“Yes. I knew he would be.” Maryanne sent her son a wistful smile. “He was devastated when he couldn’t play anymore, but I’m so glad he found a way to stay in the game.” She met my gaze, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I’m glad he found you, too.”
I smiled, a rush of heat flushing my cheeks.
“So am I.”
“Your sister is a beautiful girl. Very sweet. You’ve done a great job with her. Which couldn’t have been easy, being so young yourself.”
“I’m guessing Silas told you how…” I trailed off, cringing, as I didn’t want to ruin a lovely weekend by bringing up my flake of a mother.
“You’re on your own, yes.” She bobbed her head in a slow nod. “Being a parent isn’t easy, even when you have help. Doing it all alone and so well is an incredible thing.”
“You sound like Silas,” I said, finding his gaze as he scooped up the ball and handed Taylor a glove. He threw me a quick wink with enough intent to trigger a full-body shiver.
Staying quiet had been a struggle last night. Every time Silas and I were able to spend the night together, it was like a marathon. Neither of us wanted to go to sleep because we never knew when the next night would be.
We were here until Sunday afternoon, but then he’d be away again, and I’d be sleeping with my phone on a pillow that still smelled like Silas, waiting to hear his voice after his game ended.
As excruciating as it was, I didn’t mind the time apart as much as I hated the sneaking around when we were together.
“I have never seen Silas lit up like this. It’s been years since I’ve seen him so relaxed and happy.”
When Maryanne smiled, she looked exactly like her son. Silas shared his height and massive frame with his dad, but the kind eyes were all his mother’s.
I didn’t mention it, but I’d noticed a few shots of Silas and his brother on the walls in their living room and along the staircase. Silas radiated the same kindness as his parents, but the chip on his brother’s shoulder was evident in every picture.
I knew how it was to have difficult family members who were better off estranged—or, at least, I hoped my mother would stay that way.
“Silas has me pretty lit up too.”
“You love him.”
My head shot up to her raised brow. It was an observation not a question.
