Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) by Melanie Munton Page A
Authors: Melanie Munton
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other. And what we weren’t.
“Hey, Kinley.”
“Hi, Parker.” Her voice was soft and quiet.
And unsure.
I hated that.
Not wanting to arouse suspicion and hoping she went along with it, I leaned down to hug her. I didn’t wrap my arms all the way around her, though I desperately wanted to, and her arms barely grazed my waist. Her body was stiff as a board.
I hated that, too.
I had a long road ahead of me.
Chapter Five
Kinley
Why did he have to look better every time I saw him?
I knew when he was supposed to get to the house. That trip to the grocery store had been my opportunity to delay the inevitable just a little longer. And, of course, my body reacted the same way it always did when I saw him.
My heart beat faster.
My pulse quickened.
Heat washed over me as if I had just stepped into a sauna.
Apparently, my mind was the only part of me that was still annoyed with the gorgeous baseball player who still starred in all of my dreams. My body obviously didn’t care about that; it still wanted him. But that wasn’t going to happen. That was just asking for trouble, and our relationship was much too complicated and sensitive to even consider the possibility that there could ever be casual sex between us.
To me, it had never been casual. It had never been just a fling.
To me, every touch meant more. Every kiss was seared into my memory.
To me, it had been the beginning of the future I wanted, with the man I had always longed for.
To him, it had been temporary.
To him, it had been fun, a way of filling up his time. Maybe an exciting game to him, since we had been keeping it a secret from everyone.
To him, it had been nothing worth developing feelings over.
We had one summer together and it had been everything I’d hoped it would be. Until he left. It was hard not to let those perfect afternoons spent with him that summer be tainted by his abandonment at the end of it. It was hard to not look back and say Oh, see? That kiss wasn’t what you thought. It didn’t mean anything to him so why should it have meant anything to you?
Despite all of my efforts not to, that’s what my mind contemplated during dinner. I masked it by talking about my recent photo shoots, especially the one I had just finished in Canada. Clay talked about how things were in the mayoral office, and Gwen shared stories from her experiences with the One Heart One Hand Foundation that she and Clay started together. And Parker talked about his plans in the off-season, the changes happening with the Red Sox, and how next season was looking for them. That had been hard, hearing about the details of his life and knowing I was no longer a part of it. Not in the sense that I had a right to the intimate details.
I missed hearing about some of that, too, because I had always loved watching him play ball.
I went to every one of his and Clay’s high school games and never could take my eyes off of him, though I was sure everyone just assumed I was being a supportive younger sister.
I went to a couple of their games at UVA after we ended things and quickly realized how difficult it was seeing him after everything. So, I never went back and used my school or work as an excuse.
I hadn’t been to a single one of his major league games.
A huge part of me wanted to feel guilty for that. Because regardless of our secret—albeit brief—relationship years ago, we had essentially grown up together. We had went through a lot and shared a lot before we ever became intimate with each other. Even if we had never touched or kissed or snuck around, he would still mean the world to me, and I had always supported him.
In fact, that was one of the things he had liked about me the most, he used to say. How much I supported his baseball career, how much I admired him for chasing his dreams, and how much I encouraged him to never give up.
He’d encouraged my dreams, too.
He had told me to pursue photography if it was what made me happy.
He had
“Hey, Kinley.”
“Hi, Parker.” Her voice was soft and quiet.
And unsure.
I hated that.
Not wanting to arouse suspicion and hoping she went along with it, I leaned down to hug her. I didn’t wrap my arms all the way around her, though I desperately wanted to, and her arms barely grazed my waist. Her body was stiff as a board.
I hated that, too.
I had a long road ahead of me.
Chapter Five
Kinley
Why did he have to look better every time I saw him?
I knew when he was supposed to get to the house. That trip to the grocery store had been my opportunity to delay the inevitable just a little longer. And, of course, my body reacted the same way it always did when I saw him.
My heart beat faster.
My pulse quickened.
Heat washed over me as if I had just stepped into a sauna.
Apparently, my mind was the only part of me that was still annoyed with the gorgeous baseball player who still starred in all of my dreams. My body obviously didn’t care about that; it still wanted him. But that wasn’t going to happen. That was just asking for trouble, and our relationship was much too complicated and sensitive to even consider the possibility that there could ever be casual sex between us.
To me, it had never been casual. It had never been just a fling.
To me, every touch meant more. Every kiss was seared into my memory.
To me, it had been the beginning of the future I wanted, with the man I had always longed for.
To him, it had been temporary.
To him, it had been fun, a way of filling up his time. Maybe an exciting game to him, since we had been keeping it a secret from everyone.
To him, it had been nothing worth developing feelings over.
We had one summer together and it had been everything I’d hoped it would be. Until he left. It was hard not to let those perfect afternoons spent with him that summer be tainted by his abandonment at the end of it. It was hard to not look back and say Oh, see? That kiss wasn’t what you thought. It didn’t mean anything to him so why should it have meant anything to you?
Despite all of my efforts not to, that’s what my mind contemplated during dinner. I masked it by talking about my recent photo shoots, especially the one I had just finished in Canada. Clay talked about how things were in the mayoral office, and Gwen shared stories from her experiences with the One Heart One Hand Foundation that she and Clay started together. And Parker talked about his plans in the off-season, the changes happening with the Red Sox, and how next season was looking for them. That had been hard, hearing about the details of his life and knowing I was no longer a part of it. Not in the sense that I had a right to the intimate details.
I missed hearing about some of that, too, because I had always loved watching him play ball.
I went to every one of his and Clay’s high school games and never could take my eyes off of him, though I was sure everyone just assumed I was being a supportive younger sister.
I went to a couple of their games at UVA after we ended things and quickly realized how difficult it was seeing him after everything. So, I never went back and used my school or work as an excuse.
I hadn’t been to a single one of his major league games.
A huge part of me wanted to feel guilty for that. Because regardless of our secret—albeit brief—relationship years ago, we had essentially grown up together. We had went through a lot and shared a lot before we ever became intimate with each other. Even if we had never touched or kissed or snuck around, he would still mean the world to me, and I had always supported him.
In fact, that was one of the things he had liked about me the most, he used to say. How much I supported his baseball career, how much I admired him for chasing his dreams, and how much I encouraged him to never give up.
He’d encouraged my dreams, too.
He had told me to pursue photography if it was what made me happy.
He had
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