Caught off guard by her soft demeanor, I hug her back and say, “Thank you.” But she doesn’t let go. It’s a long hug, a comforting hug, and I’m seeing a side of her I didn’t think existed. She’s been so brash, so outspoken, and so sarcastic that I wasn’t aware there was a soft, caring side to her, and that’s exactly what I’m feeling at this moment.

When she finally lets me go and takes a step back, she puts her hands in her pockets and glances up at me. “I’m assuming you need to go.”

“Yeah. I have to pack and then head to the airport.”

“Well . . .” She smirks. “I guess that ends our game. I can walk away a proud woman, knowing I just beat a Major League baseball player.” With a wink, she walks away, but then she spins around and says, “See you around, Bisley Balls.”

And before I can say another word, she’s gone.

Chapter Five

RYOT

Present day . . .

“How are you doing?” Nola asks, her voice sounding choppy from the poor reception.

“Let me guess, Banner called you?” I ask.

“He did. He was worried about you. Said you haven’t been talking to him much. But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad.”

Thank God for that.

Nola lives just outside of Port Snow, Maine, in Bright Harbor, where we grew up. She moved back a few years ago after a difficult breakup with her long-term boyfriend. She decided to restore our old childhood home after Mom and Dad moved into a more manageable cottage. After marrying the first boy who ever broke her heart, she’s now living happily in her refurbished home with the love of her life.

Color me envious.

“So what’s going on with Myla?”

I walk over to my bedroom door and shut it so my voice doesn’t travel. “I don’t know, Nola. She’s dead set on divorcing me. We’re not even sleeping in the same goddamn room. She had the papers drawn up and everything.”

“Really?” she asks, sounding so sad.

Nola and Myla instantly connected the day they first met. Like long-lost sisters reuniting, they not only have so much in common, but they have a common goal to pick on Banner and me as much as humanly possible. Over the years, during holidays and vacations, they’ve had their fair share of jabs at us . . . and I’ve loved every goddamn second of it.

“Yeah, but I didn’t sign them. I can’t. Fuck, Nola, I can’t even muster the strength to pick up a pen. I don’t want a divorce. I love her.”

“I know you do. I’ve never seen you happier than when you are with her. What happened?”

“I don’t know.” I press my palm to my eye. “I’m still trying to figure that out. It doesn’t help that I’m so fucking mad that I could throw a chair through the wall at any given point.”