Because there was no chance that Sammie still had feelings for him. Those had disappeared the moment he broke her sixteen year old heart, of that he was sure.
And what did it matter? Kieran wasn’t looking for a relationship. He’d tried it in the past, and the failure had hurt more than he liked to remember. Those feelings that he read about in books, saw in movies, that he heard his friends and teammates go on about, they weren’t something he’d ever felt for himself. He liked sex, he liked having someone around to talk to about life, but it had never gone farther than that for him.
Even when he had tried to force it.
Kieran pushed those thoughts away. He liked his life, liked himself. He didn’t need one of the sweeping romances everyone around him seemed set on finding.
Kieran leaned forward over his plate, determined to change the subject. “Kenna called the other day.” That did the trick. Meredith’s eyes widened, and Grant’s laughter died out. Mention of Kieran’s cousin, oldest daughter of his estranged uncle, always tended to bring the mood down a bit.
“She said she might be in town soon,” Kieran continued. “Said she’d love to see both of you.” Kenna wanted to visit before the women’s pro volleyball tournament. The drive up from Louisville wasn’t bad, but between the season being in full swing and the coaching gig she’d taken up, Kenna hadn’t been able to visit her parents in months.
“We should have her over for dinner.” Meredith’s tone brooked no argument, not that Kieran thought Grant would put up a fight over seeing Kenna. He loved his niece. It was her father that was the problem.
“Have you heard from Garrett?” It was a mistake, one hundred percent. Kieran knew that. But still, the ongoing feud between the two brothers was something Kieran had never understood. Something he was definitely not on board with.
“Nope.” Grant had transformed from the jolly, sweet man Kieran loved best to the stiff, stubborn old ass that Kieran sort of couldn’t stand.
“Kenna said he’s good.” If his parents got to make him uncomfortable for their own amusement, then Kieran thought he had every right to poke this particular bruise a little harder. “His arm healed up nice. From when he fell off that ladder last fall, I told you about that, didn’t I? He’s had the cast off for about a while now, finally able to operate the farm equipment again.”
Kieran rambled off a few other inane details about his uncle’s life that he’d gleaned from his brief conversation with Kenna. Meredith grew quiet, quieter than she’d been throughout the entirety of their meal. It wasn’t a secret that she, too, had grown weary of the family feud.
“Have you re-upped your contract with Chicago?” Grant’s question had Kieran’s lips twitching into a frown.
“Not yet,” he said, the words falling slowly. He’d been with the Cats for two seasons, the length of his original contract. He had a new one at home, sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for a signature.
“So it’s not a sure thing,” Meredith began, “that you’ll be playing for them next year?”
His dad had known exactly how to change the subject so that Kieran would be the one back in the spotlight.
“I just have to sign the new contract.” Kieran kept his tone neutral.
“But sweetheart,” his mother continued. “Volleyball isn’t going to be there forever. Have you given thought to what we asked you?”
“Yes,” Kieran finally snapped, earning a flinch from Meredith that he immediately regretted and a stern, raised brow from Grant. “I’m still thinking about it, that’s why I haven’t signed the papers yet.”
Itbeing the farm. The family business. The thing his parents, namely his mother, wanted him to take over.
They’d asked him before the start of the season, Meredith casually slipping it into conversation over dinner. Grant had grown quiet, just like he always did when his failing health came up. The farm was too much for him, even after hiring on more help. But they wanted to keep it in the family, and they were just so worried that Kieran would need something long term to support himself.
Something that wasn’t volleyball, a sport that he most likely only had another ten years or so of left in him. Never mind the fact that Kieran had already found a source of supplementary income, because his parents didn’t know about what he did in the small amount of spare time he had.
They didn’t know about the content he made and posted online, his identity hidden behind a carefully placed ball cap.
This wasn’t the first time his mother had pushed him about the subject since that initial conversation. No, there had been countless phone calls, with just as many small nudges over dinners just like this one. Grant never brought it up, but Meredith made up for it by poking again and again.
We need you here, Kieran.
Selling the farm will break your father’s heart.
We just want to make sure your future is secure.
Words that echoed over and over in his head, swirling with the guilt of letting down his team with every missed practice and the fear of a future he couldn’t see clearly.
“I’m still thinking about it,” he repeated the words softly. Meredith took the hint, dropping the subject, but Kieran knewit would come up again. Whether it was tomorrow as they sat in the doctor’s waiting room, or over a phone call in a few days, she would ask again. She would keep asking until he finally gave her an answer, one that would make her happier than anything or one that would hurt her in a way Kieran didn’t think he could bear.
Summer was almost over, and he still hadn’t settled on an answer. It didn’t matter if he knew which one hewantedto give. What mattered was which choice was therightone.
They finished dinner quietly chatting about other things, things that were less like clouds hanging over all of them. Grant asked if Kieran could bring more spent grain from the brewery for his buddy who raised cattle down the road. Meredith regaled them with tales of wine-fueled shenanigans from her monthly book club. Kieran loaded the dishwasher, listening as his parents conversed quietly, effortlessly, the way only two people who have known each other for a lifetime could.
