Page 58 of Praising the Pitcher

“I’m pretty pumped you chose to ride home with the better King sibling, FYI,” I say to Dallas, who sits in the passenger seat of my truck, stoic as ever.

“You act like we’re driving for hours,” he mumbles, looking down at his phone. “We’re, like, twenty minutes away.”

“Still, ya chose me,” I say, nodding. “Because I’m the best sibling, and you knew it when you climbed in my truck.”

The King, Rivers, and Cade families Christmas Eve together most years—when it works out for everyone’s schedules. Since everyone confirmed this year, Dallas and I are headed to my parents’ house after an early practice, and tonight we’ll all have dinner. Then tomorrow for Christmas Eve we do a Yankee Swap—during which I always leave with the best gift, and my dad ends up with a year’s supply of toilet paper or some shit.

And yes, he bitches about it.

“Wrong.” He pauses, like he isn’t sure if he should tell me the real reason or something, and instantly, I glance at him, waiting.

He fidgets with his hands before sighing.

“Haven was going to try to force Gigi to come to Christmas because she felt bad she would be home alone. I figured, if she talks her into it, I’d be better off riding with you than those two. Your sister likes to have car concerts, as she calls them, when she has friends with her.”

She lied to me.

Despite the fact we haven’t been talking much, I texted her last night, asking her Christmas plans. Part of me considered skipping Christmas with my family and staying back with her and playing it off like I had to train, but when she told me she was going to Lilly’s house, I figured I’d leave her be.

Guess that wasn’t the case.

“You’re suddenly quiet,” he mutters in his typical, unenthused tone. “For a dude who was just bragging to me about being better than his sister …”

“I am better,” I say sharply. “And that’s good if she gets Gigi to come.” I swallow. “No one should spend Christmas alone.”

“Right.” He sounds thoughtful. “And since you and she are friends, and she and Haven are friends, it makes sense that she comes and hangs for the next few days. Right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does.” I try to keep the concern out of my voice—concern that spending time with her during the holidays will make me that much more enthralled and then I’ll really go into the game next week playing like shit. Fuck, I barely got through the last one without completely fucking up.

“And maybe she could bring Benny too.” His words sound more like a question, and I know he’s baiting, yet I can’t stop my response before it comes flying out.

“And why the fuck would she do that?” I stare at the road, suddenly wishing my best friend was riding with my sister and not me.

Flashes of her new tattoo hit me, and when the thought even crosses my mind of that motherfucker ever seeing it, my fists ball up because fuck … that makes me mad. The tattoo suits her perfectly, and it’s so meaningful. But the placement? Damn, it’s sexy. And while I’m incredibly proud of her for getting it, because I know how big of a deal that must have been, I don’t want anyone to run their fingers over it.

Well, anyone but me. And I can’t.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Because they’re friends.”

“Baker won’t be coming to my house for Christmas, D,” I say, my voice cool and controlled. “And if he does, he’ll be leaving in an ambulance.”

Even without looking at him, I can see the dumbass smirking because I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying to get me to spill my guts, and I’m not going to fall for it.

“That’s about what I thought, brother.” He chuckles. “Good luck trying to behave yourself all weekend with blondie under the same roof.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter, barely audible, bringing my knuckles to my lips as I drift deep into thought.

Because this motherfucker is right …

GIGI

The entire ride so far, I don’t think Haven has stopped talking. It’s not like it’s super far, but it’s enough of a drive that she should at least take a few breaths, but nope … she’s just telling me all about what to expect the next few days.

“Okay, so today we’ll go into town and go to my favorite coffee place. I’m obsessed,” she gushes. “And then tonight, Dallas and his parents will come over for dinner, and Aunt Cameran and Uncle Trent and their kids will be there too. And OMG … did you see the adorable collar I got Boston for Christmas?” Even though I saw the bandana this morning, I still glance in the back seat at Boston, half asleep, though his ears perk up at my movement, his adorable doggy eyebrows moving around.

I turn back to face the road. Haven is practically bouncing in her seat, and her enthusiasm reminds me so much of my mom during the holidays. We had traditions, things we did she loved so much, and now … that’s all gone. While it hurts, I do my best to plaster on a smile for my friend who was nice enough to invite—or should I say force—me to come to her family’s Christmas.

“Sounds great.” I practically squeak the words out. “And his bandana is cute. He’s very festive.”