The Secret Hook-Up

“My dude, you have a problem.”

I don’t have to look up to know who’s talking.

One, because I invited him to join me today. Two, because only Nick Murphy, former star goaltender for the Thrusters, would be cackling exactly that way at any of the rest of us having a problem.

“Going to a baseball game isn’t generally considered a problem,” I say, lifting my head to look at the row of seats behind me, where Nick and his wife, Kami, are getting settled. Also approaching in the same row are Ares and Felicity Berger. Ares is massive enough that he doesn’t fit easily in stadium seats, and he’s newly retired from the Thrusters. Felicity is Nick’s hilarious sister whom I was not supposed to date.

She’s much happier with Ares than she ever would’ve been with me.

Bonus, Ares might be relatively silent, but he can out-prank and outmaneuver anything Nick would ever consider doing.

“The gates haven’t even opened yet,” Nick says. “People without problems don’t make arrangements to get into the ballpark before the gates are opened.”

“More room to breathe before we’re squished in.” Fireballs games have a tendency to sell out these days.

It took some work to find seats where I can see the dugout and where I could have some friends join me. Got pretty lucky in that we’re only about eight rows back from the infield.

“Who’s Bloom?” Kami asks. “I don’t remember a player named Bloom. Is he new?”

I can’t tell you exactly the first time I met Kami. Been a lot of years. She was always around whenever Felicity would show up, either at the arena or at bars after the games. Where Felicity was exactly as loud, fun, and hilarious as you’d expect of anyone in that family—but more so, given how she taught herself to be a ventriloquist in her spare time—Kami was the epitome of the quiet, sweet BFF.

But there’s mischief dancing in her brown eyes as she slides a smile at Felicity and Ares.

“You know Addie Bloom,” Nick says to her. “She’s the Fireballs’ batting coach.”

“That Addie Bloom?” Felicity says. “The Addie that Duncan paid out the nose for in that bachelorette auction?”

“It wasn’t a bachelorette auction,” Kami says. “At least, it wasn’t billed as one. But it does seem like he was trying to buy some pussy.”

Assholes rehearsed this. You can tell by the way Kami said buy some pussy. She’d never say that on purpose.

I glance at Ares to see if he’s having any reactions.

Dude’s pretty stoic. Tends to speak mostly in grunts.

He pulls out his phone and hits play on a video without searching for it.

“Adults deserve fun too,” a voice announces from his phone.

The opening of the PSA that we shot last week.

It went live yesterday.

“Ooooh, she is the woman you bid like a million dollars on at the auction,” Kami says.

“A hundred and ten thousand, Kam,” Nick says. “Just over ten percent of a full million.”

“Silly me getting my numbers confused again.”

She’s a veterinarian. She doesn’t get her numbers confused.

“How’re the kids?” I ask all four of them.

“Awesome,” Nick says.

“A handful,” Felicity reports.

“A fun handful,” Kami corrects.

A half smile crosses Ares’s face. “Perfect.” He hands me his phone, now open to a picture of all of their combined munchkins climbing inside the fencing around Nick and Kami’s massive chicken coop.

“They’re with their grandparents,” Nick says.

“My parents and Nick and Felicity’s parents,” Kami adds. “We thought four grandparents to five grandkids would be best. They’re getting more…let’s call it courageous with the youngest walking and the oldest able to read now.”

“You need sunscreen, Duncan?” Felicity asks me as she slathers it on her own arms. “Little more UV exposure here than in a hockey rink.”

“Already got it, thanks.”

“Did Addie help?” Kami asks.

“No.”

“But you’re wearing her name on the back of your Fireballs jersey.”

Proudly.

And not for them.

No, it’s all for the woman who’s standing behind the protective fencing that goes up immediately behind home plate during batting warm-ups for the team.

She’s saying something to Brooks Elliott, a power hitter for the team who’s in the batter’s box, and he’s grinning back at her. His “you got it, Coach” carries into the stands as he gets into position to hit the next ball.

“Did someone pay you to wear Addie’s name?” Kami asks.

“No.”

“So is this like some extra publicity stunt? Was the auction a setup too? Did the Fireballs and Thrusters fund it so all the local sports fans would be talking about Daddie?”

I look back at her again.

“Legit questions,” she says with a grin.

I jerk a thumb toward Nick. “You’ve been with this guy too long.”

She laughs while he plays with her hair, smiling that completely smitten smile that’s always on his face when they’re together.

“Not nearly long enough,” she says. “I’m still having too much fun.”

You know that feeling when you’re happy for someone but you also want what they have so hard that your entire body aches with it?

That’s me in this moment.

If you’d told me ten years ago that Nick Murphy would retire in his prime because he wanted to spend more time with his wife and kids, I would’ve laughed until I threw up.

And I’ve never laughed that hard in my life.

Nick was the epitome of free-living hockey bachelor.

Liked killing it on the ice, aiming for a shutout every single night. Hitting the bars afterwards. Having fun with the women.

But he hung up his pads and skates a year and a half after he married Kami because he hated road trips away from her and their baby.

They have three kids now, and I’ve never seen him happier.

Ares hung up his skates this year too to be home more with Felicity and their two kids. That’s massive for a guy who led people to believe he intended to play until he was fifty. Told me once it’s the only thing he’s ever been or will ever be good at.

But now he’s spending his days with his own little family, and frequently with Zeus, his identical twin, and Joey and their quadruplets.

Being even better at being a dad and a father than he is—was—at playing hockey.

And he looks pretty content as he’s sitting there with an arm draped around the back of Felicity’s seat.

They have something bigger to live for.

Something I always assumed I would’ve had by now too.

“Hey, Uncle Dunc,” Paisley says as she steps into the row. She’s decked out in Fireballs gear and carrying a bag of popcorn. “Little early, aren’t we?”

It’s easy to shift a smile to my niece. “More time to enjoy the weather.”

And it’s gorgeous today.

Lots of sunshine. Puffy white clouds hanging around merely for decoration. Cool breeze.

Perfect day for baseball.

Paisley takes the seat next to me, and when she leans forward, I can’t stop the noise that comes out of my mouth at the sight of the name on the back of her jersey. “McBride? Are you fucking kidding? He’s a disaster.”

She grins at me. “I like ’em that way. More fun to watch.”

Rory McBride was brought in as a rookie to take Cooper Rock’s place at second base this year, but he’s spent half his time being sent back to the minors.

“Just to watch,” I say.

The kid’s only a couple years older than she is.

I know this story.

Hockey player’s niece uses his connections to get to know baseball players who are nothing but trouble and then gets her heart broken.

Not on my watch.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be like Mom.”

“Paisley, do you know why your uncle is wearing the batting coach’s name on his jersey?” Kami asks. My friends and niece have met before. Several times over the years, in fact.

“Because he’s got a thing for her and won’t admit it any other way,” Paisley answers.

I make a buzzer noise. “Wrong.”

“And yet, it seems so likely,” Nick muses.

I peer back at him. “You’re too simple of a man to understand the nuance of my fit.”

Kami chokes on her beer.

Nick grins at me. “You need help, my dude.”

“Why does Duncan need help?” a semi-familiar voice asks on my other side.

I turn and do a double take.

Shit.

Tillie Jean Rock-Cole.

Cooper’s sister. Married to a retired Fireballs star pitcher. Doesn’t come around the city often—she’s mayor of their hometown about an hour away in the mountains now.

Kami squeals her name and steps over Nick to give her a hug. Felicity shuffles around Nick to hug TJ too.

“Who’s that?” Paisley whispers.

“Someone who knows her way around a glitter bomb,” I whisper back. “Tread lightly.”

“Just when I swear I’m never believing another word Cooper says, I show up and Duncan’s wearing an Addie jersey,” Tillie Jean says.

I’m holding in a wince while she plops into the seat beside me.

“That one’s taken,” I tell her.

“I’m sitting up in the owners’ box with Waverly,” she replies. “But I heard a rumor there were old hockey players hanging out and wanted to say hi. Now I feel like I should be offering advice.”

“I’ve tried. It’s hopeless,” Felicity says.

“If razzing me counts as offering advice,” I say.

“It does if you’re smart enough to recognize it,” Nick says.

“Also, I’m not old,” I tell Tillie Jean.

“You kinda are,” Paisley says. “But I’m allowed to say that since you’ve been old to me since the day I was born.”

“I like you,” Tillie Jean says to her.

“I’ve been told I’m not allowed to talk to you for fear of glitter bombs,” Paisley replies.

“My first act as mayor of Shipwreck was to outlaw glitter in all forms in the town and surrounding areas that are serviced by town utilities.”

Paisley whistles. “That’s hardcore.”

“When your sister-in-law can afford a helicopter to glitter-bomb your brother’s entire house to prove who’s top dog, you have to take drastic measures. Sometimes the wind still blows leftover glitter down his mountain and all around town.” Tillie Jean looks at me, clearly intent on leaving out her own history of launching glitter bombs. “So are you here to hit on Addie, or is this a PR stunt before the pickleball league sign-ups?”

“Addie and I are friends.” And one of us—me—wants more. And I’m willing to play the long game to get it.

The very long game if necessary.

I wouldn’t if I didn’t think I had a chance.

But the way she looks at me—the way she let her guard down when I showed up the morning after the auction, the way she sat with me when I overheated, then sat with me while I told her I’m retiring, the way her eyes went dark while I told her I was taking advantage of this second chance over loaded cheese fries—she knows what I want.

And she hasn’t told me no.

Implied she doesn’t think I can earn her, yes.

Reiterated that she doesn’t do relationships.

But told me no to being her friend? To being in her life?

Nope.

She invited me to take breakfast to the Stingrays softball team. She didn’t argue about grabbing a bite to eat, just the two of us, afterward. And the way she lingered when we got back to her apartment, saying so much with what she didn’t say—she still likes me.

She simply doesn’t know how to handle it yet.

Fine by me.

I have time.

“Are you friends-friends, or just friends?” Kami asks.

“I don’t know the difference between those two.” Which one means friends with benefits and which one means we’re honestly friends?

Never mind.

Doesn’t matter.

Neither fits.

“Uncle Duncan’s seen her naked,” Paisley supplies.

“I’ve seen Duncan naked,” Nick says. “Happens in sportsing. Sometimes in cross-sportsing. Like when we forget we’re not at our own home arena and walk into a different sport’s locker room. You smell that locker room smell, and boom. Clothes come off.”

Just when I’d started to give up on him, he comes through with the support.

We bump fists.

“When does baseball season end?” Kami asks.

“October,” Nick tells her. “Maybe early November, depending on playoffs.”

“And when does it start?”

“February,” Tillie Jean says. “Spring training. Kiss ’em all goodbye at that point if you’re not going with them.”

All four of them look at me.

I look at the field.

Addie’s staring up at us.

I lift a hand to wave at her.

“Hey, hockey boy, quit looking at my coach,” Brooks yells.

The few other people who are in the stadium before the gates officially open look our way.

I stand up.

Turn around.

Stretch.

Show off her name on my back.

“And quit wearing her name,” Brooks calls as I turn back around and take my seat again.

“We appreciate real talent and recognize where your skill’s coming from,” Nick yells back.

Brooks gives him a what the fuck? look.

Tillie Jean and Kami both crack up.

Addie’s wearing her sunglasses, but I can feel her staring at me too long before snapping her attention quickly back to Brooks. Whatever she says to him makes him crack up.

To my absolute shock, her lips stretch in a smile too.

So maybe she didn’t say get your ass back in the dugout, I don’t need you defending my honor to puckheads in the stands.

She got to ditch her sling, but you can tell by the way she moves that she’s being extra cautious with her left arm. I got a single text message. No surgery. I’ll be fine again very soon. PT is about to be my bitch.

About to be, but clearly not yet.

The Addie I knew four years ago would be crossing her arms and widening her stance.

Instead, it’s just the widened stance with her right hand resting on her hip.

“Good to see you, Murphy,” Brooks calls.

“Good for you to see me too,” Nick calls back.

“He means play good today,” Kami calls. “Tell Mackenzie we said hi.”

“Don’t strike out,” Tillie Jean adds.

Addie’s voice comes through clearer as she tilts her head at him. “Still think you can keep up with that level of heckling?”

“Almost as many older brothers as you, Coach. These puckers don’t bother me.”

“I can see why you like her,” Paisley says. “And I like her a lot more than I ever liked Lena.”

It takes a full two seconds for me to register who Lena is.

Paisley watches me while she shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth, and then she slowly starts grinning.

Like she knows my ex-wife is finally so far in the rearview mirror that the way she left me doesn’t hurt anymore.

Tillie Jean’s staring at me from my other side.

“What?” I say to her.

“Addie’s been with the team for five and a half years. She’s spent most off-seasons up in Shipwreck for conditioning training with at least a half dozen guys on the team.”

“And?”

“And she doesn’t date.”

“And?”

“And you paid over a hundred grand for a date with her.”

Paisley leans forward and looks around me. “He didn’t like how the old dude at the next table was looking at her. The old dude who was super creepy and bidding more and more too.”

Tillie Jean looks between us. “Have you met Addie?”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Just because a woman can handle her own business doesn’t mean her squad should leave her hanging when things get crazy,” Paisley replies.

“She ate.” Ares smirks like he’s enjoying the shocked looks from all of us at the man who never speaks keeping up with the lingo. Then he rubs my head. “Good job.”

Addie’s talking to Diego Estevez behind home plate now.

And she keeps glancing toward the stands.

Toward us.

Unlike Tillie Jean, who’s still frowning at me, Addie seems happy.

Possibly amused.

Two other coaches join her, and they both look my way.

“Oooh, they’re talking about you,” Kami says. “What do you think they’re saying?”

“Is that Duncan guy looking at you wrong?” Felicity says in one of her grumpy-guy puppet voices. Don’t have to look at her to know she’s not moving her lips. It’s freaky and cool at the same time.

But it’s better when she’s surrounded by people who don’t know she’s a ventriloquist and she makes pets and inanimate objects talk than it is when she’s mocking me.

“Don’t worry, fellow coaches. I know how to punch a guy in the nuts!” she says back in a cheerful feminine voice.

“Not sure a nut-punch will be enough for someone who tried to buy your pussy at auction,” the grumpy voice says.

“You haven’t felt the strength of my nut-punch!” the happy lady voice says.

I look back at her.

Nick’s cracking up.

Kami’s trying to keep a straight face as she says, “All in good fun, Duncan.”

Felicity’s grinning proudly.

So is Ares.

“I can’t decide if you scare me or if you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met,” Paisley says to her.

“That’s the same thing Ares’s pet monkey said the first time he met Felicity too,” Nick says, which actually makes Ares crack a real laugh with the rest of us.

He’s a harder nut to crack than Addie is.

I suspect he laughs more at home than he does out in public.

Just like Addie.

Tillie Jean sighs on my other side, half smiling as she rises. “I’m going back to the suite. But Duncan, seriously—if you’re planning on trying something with Addie, just…just don’t, okay?”

Nothing’s funny anymore. This is giving someone hurt Addie vibes, and I don’t like it. “Why?”

“Because no one gets as tough as Addie is without going through shit. And she doesn’t deserve more shit. From anyone.”

“What kind of shit?” I ask.

“Don’t know, and I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. But I stand by what I said. You don’t get that tough without going through shit. She deserves to be happy.”

“Tell Max we said hi,” Nick says.

“And that we’re sorry for what Zeus and Ares did to him at the game bar last week,” Felicity adds.

“No worries,” Tillie Jean says. “Glitter bombs are only outlawed in Shipwreck. They’re fair game in Copper Valley. And it turns out Waverly and Max are really great prank partners, so it’ll all work out in the end.”

Felicity freezes and glances at Ares.

Not often you see the big guy look guilty. Or worried.

But he’s definitely both right now.

He should be.

I hear Max Cole is a quiet pranker.

And Waverly Sweet has basically unlimited funds.

She could buy the Thrusters if she wanted to.

I’m smirking as I glance back at the field again.

Addie’s two fellow coaches are still looking our way.

She’s demonstrating a batting stance for Francisco Lopez. Still not using her left arm though.

I’ll see her again tomorrow.

We’re making a guest appearance at a pickleball league sign-up.

And I can’t wait.

Plus, we have our Croaking Creatures date in two weeks. After this home series, she has a road trip and then a day off.

She’s giving me her day off.

Nick pokes me after Tillie Jean leaves. “If you ever want to talk to someone about retirement and what happens when you hang up your skates, I have a really great life coach recommendation.”

“Who said anything about retirement?”

I’ve told Addie.

That’s it.

As far as the Thrusters know, my agent is in talks with me about what we’d want in another contract when mine expires at the end of the year.

“You have the look,” Ares says.

“Well-spoken, my friend,” Nick says.

Ares doesn’t waste words.

Ever.

I look between my two former teammates.

Ares is poker-faced.

Nick’s unusually sober. He shrugs at me. “We all know where your contract stands. And she’s breaking barriers. That shit matters more. You’re not the kind of asshole who’ll pretend you can make it work when your seasons overlap on both sides.”

They’re not wrong.

I want a shot with Addie. A real shot with the possibility of forever. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

And this time, I’m not telling my friends I’m seeing someone but it’s not serious enough to introduce them, the way she more or less asked me to.

This time, I’m letting myself get their support.

Or listen to their objections.

“She was my secret hookup four years ago,” I say.

All four of them look back at the field.

Nick whistles low and soft.

Ares grunts.

“Are you serious?” Kami whispers.

“Oh, Duncan, no,” Felicity says. “She broke you.”

“I broke myself. And I got through it. With help. I realized that last time, I didn’t listen. That’s on me. This time, I’m listening. I know what I’m getting into.”

Paisley’s the only one who smiles at me. “Good. I like her.”

“Me too.” Feels so damn good to say it out loud. “Enough to see if she’s willing to let me help her work through her shit. And if she doesn’t…then at least I’ll have real closure this time.”

Paisley nudges my shoulder with hers. “Aww, look at you being mature. I’m so proud.”

“I’m worried,” Kami says.

“Same,” Felicity agrees.

“Got your back,” Ares says, rubbing my head again.

I fist bump him too. “Thanks, my dude.”

He nods.

His eyes say you’re in for a hell of a ride, but that nod reiterates that he’s on my side.

“Who started this party without us?” Zeus asks as he and Joey enter my row on the other side. “And who’s taking bets on who makes the biggest scene on the kiss cam?” he adds with a look at the familiar couple following him.

“We’re literally the reason all sports arenas and stadiums quit doing the kiss cam,” the Berger twins’ little sister answers while her husband smirks.

He turns just right, and there’s glitter sparkling in the dude’s chin dimple.

People think Zeus and Ares are the reason we’re known for glitter wars.

Wrong.

It all started with their sister.

Who also doesn’t get the credit she deserves.

Just like Addie before she came here to Copper Valley.

“Somebody start this party without us?” Tyler Jaeger asks. He and his wife, Muffy, have also arrived. Tyler’s one of few guys still active on the team who hasn’t retired yet, but I suspect it won’t be many more years before he’s done too.

“Do you think the people sitting around us have any idea what they’re in for?” Kami muses as she and Muffy hug each other.

“Nope,” we all answer for her.

I know what I’m in for.

A fun game with good friends where the woman I want to date knows I’m wearing her jersey.

And then patience.

And then—well.

Guess we’ll see what’s then.

I know what I want it to be.

I want it to be with Addie wearing my jersey in her off-season.

It’ll take time, but I believe it’ll happen.

I have to.