“I do,” I confirm. “But you have to help me help you. I need clean tape, updated stats, interviews without profanity?—”
My eyes fall to Killian and his brothers laugh.
“What?” Killian protests. “That was ONE TIME!”
Bishop cocks his head, scowling at his brother. “Killian, you literally just swore like two minutes ago and that one time, you called the reporter a ‘sentient oatmeal bowl.’”
“In my defense,” he says, pointing at the camera, “helookedlike one.”
Bishop covers his face with his hand. “We’re so sorry, Harper.”
“It’s fine,” I lie. “I’ve had worse clients.”
“I’m certain that’s not true but we appreciate you all the same,” Shepherd says cheerfully.
He has no idea how right he is.
My phone dings and the screen lights up, showing me a text from Harrison.
Harrison
Lunch today?
My cheeks blush and I bite the corner of my bottom lip to keep from smiling too hard. Ever since I watched Harrison with Connor last week I’ve done nothing but think about how good he was with him. How…fatherly he was.
It was a total surprise.
In every good way possible.
One of the boys clears his throat, bringing me out of my trance.
“Sorry. Where was I? Okay, yeah,” I continue, pulling up their documents. “Shepherd, I’ll be arranging an in-depth meeting with the Rush’s GM. Killian and Bishop, I’ll schedule private workouts with the Lagers’ scouts. You three keep your noses clean and your grades passable.”
Killian salutes, Bishop nods like a responsible human, and Shepherd winks, a dimple appearing in his cheek when he smiles.
Dear god.
He’s going to break someone’s heart one day.
Or totally heal it.
One or the other.
My laptop chimes faintly as I update the shared folder with their files. The triplets wait watching my movement like golden retrievers waiting for someone to throw a ball.
“Okay,” I say, exhaling slowly. “Before we wrap up, I’d really like to hear each of your goals in your own words. Not what your coaches want, not what your parents want. Whatyouwant.”
This should be simple, but I have a feeling with these three staring back at me, it will be anything but.
Shepherd lights up first because of course he does.
“I want to be the guy a franchise can depend on,” he says with the kind of sincerity that makes me understand why the sports world is obsessed with him. He has that reputation at school too. “Someone who wins games, yeah, but also someone who makes the people around him better.”
“The golden boy speaks,” Killian whispers with mock reverence.
Shepherd ignores him.
Bishop clears his throat. “I want to prove that catchers aren’t just brick walls with mitts. I want to call games, lead pitchers, run a clubhouse. And—I can’t believe I’m saying this—I want to play with Killian as long as I can stand him.”
