Logic finally worms its way through my anger. Aaron isn’t worth losing something we’ve worked our whole lives for. As the adrenaline dissipates, I’m left with a twisted sensation in my gut. I need to tell Kenzie about this. She should know how Aaron manipulated her.
My phone vibrates in my pocket just as Tenny and Rhett finally let me go.
“You okay?” Tenny slaps my chest.
He’s always been a physical guy—big on hugs, high fives, and back pats. More often than not, he jokes with whatever runner is on first base in between plays.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“Don’t worry about Lawson,” Rhett says. “He’s talking nonsense. None of the higher-ups want to get rid of you.”
That’s always the niggling fear in the back of a baseball player’s mind. There are literally hundreds of guys vying for a chance at “The Show,” for the opportunity to get on a team and make their mark on baseball history. You have to be at the top of your game at all times because you’re so easily replaceable.
Though, right now, that isn’t even crossing my mind. All I can think about is Kenzie’s face when she finds out how Aaron deceived her. She’ll be devastated, and there will probably be crying. There’s little I hate more than Kenzie crying.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” I tell them before pushing toward the exit.
After I get into my truck, the text message I missed pops up on the center console screen.
Kenzie
Hey! I’m still up. I know, shocker. Anyway, I have a surprise for you when you get home. Great game tonight!
The ache in my chest intensifies as I shift into gear.
Trevor
Can’t wait to see you.
At least that part isn’t a lie.
Because, unfortunately, I have a surprise for Kenzie too—just not the good kind.
Chapter 19
Trevor
The scents of sauteed onions and peppers with a hint of cumin greet me at the door before Jet headbutts my ankle, unable to slow down. I reach down to pick up her furry body, nuzzling her black head and scratching behind her ears. Banks usually takes his time approaching me when I get home. I’ve never taken offense because the vet mentioned that Banks was skittish with all male staff members, probably because he’d been mistreated by a man in the past. Since I’ve brought Banks home, I’ve shown him gentle affection, patiently waiting for him to trust me.
In the meantime, it’s nice that this little fuzzball is always so excited when I get home. Her sweet little face is just what Ineeded after the mess at the night club. I shower her with baby talk just as Banks meows, weaving between my legs.
“Hey, buddy.” I keep my tone even, though a burst of sunshine radiates through me. “Feeling left out?”
When I enter the kitchen a second later, cradling both cats, Kenzie looks up from the stove.
“You’re home!” She beams at me, stirring what looks like vegetarian fajitas. “I made you a late-night snack because, though I know they feed you at the clubhouse, you’re always hungry.”
With the ingredients littered over my custom kitchen, she’s prepared more than a snack. A bowl of guacamole, homemade salsa, two kinds of beans, and three open tortilla bags cover the large island. Discarded chef’s knives, spice jars, and used cutting boards clutter the counter.
“Looks amazing.”
That’s all I can get out of my tight throat because there’s something so comforting about coming home to a fresh meal. Have I ever returned from a game to have someone cooking for me? We had a chef growing up, but often, those meals were boxed up by the time I got home. Still delicious but not fresh. Even Rebecca, the personal chef I hire in the offseason, batches meals for me. I’ve never considered how heartwarming it is to have someone cooking when I get home from a game.
“I looked up what would be the best, macro-wise,” Kenzie continues, unaware of my wobbly internal state. “There wasa lotof information on the internet, so I made my best attempt…”
She continues to ramble about the protein content in each prepared dish while tossing seasoned chicken back into the veggies. Her words dip into the too-technical range, and my chest warms. I love when Kenzie rambles, even better if she uses language I have to look up later.
Jet wiggles once Kenzie places what looks like unseasoned, shredded chicken in their food bowls. I set down both cats as she turns off the burner.
