Willow: Come to the batting cages. I need you here right now. I don't care if you have a client. Tell them it's urgent.

I give my phone a queer look before hitting the call button and bringing it up to my ear. Luckily for Willow, I'm not working. That means I can spring to the rescue faster for whatever she needs.

My heart races as I imagine the worst. Did she get hurt? What happened?

“Hello.” She answers in a hushed voice, and I can hear background noise all around her.

“What's wrong?”

“Come. Here. Now.” Each word is filled with anger.

“Tell me why first.” I lean back against the sofa, realizing that this probably has nothing to do with bodily harm and more to do with some emotional drama.

“I'm at the batting cages with Peter, and Becky showed up.” The disdain is clear in her tone.

“So? What do you want me to do about it?”

“She's all over Peter. I need you to come...distract her.”

“Distract her,” I huff. “This sounds like a you problem.”

“Please, Caleb. She's ruining our date. I would owe you big time.”

“Alright. But you really do owe me for this. I won't forget it.” I sigh in defeat.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I promise I'll pay you back somehow.”

“Yeah. You will.” She hangs up on me before I even finish speaking, and I scowl at my phone, wondering why in the hell I'm being such a push over.

I don't owe her anything, yet I still find myself climbing into my truck and rushing to the batting cages. The second I step into the complex, I have to take a moment to laugh. Becky is up to bat. Peter is standing against the cage saying something to her, and Willow is a few steps behind, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes burning into the back of Becky's head.

“That is one unhappy girl,” I mutter to myself before approaching them. “Hey guys.”

“Caleb.” Peter sounds surprised. Apparently, Willow didn't relay the message that I was coming.

“Caleb!” Becky abandons the pitching machine to come greet me, even though it's still shooting out balls. It's kind of nice to see how happy she is to see me. At least, she looks more appreciative of my presence than Willow is.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asks.

“I thought I'd get some practice in before Thursday,” I do my best at lying.

What a fucking coincidence that all four of us would end up at the same place tonight.

“Hey look. Another cage opened up.” Willow points to a cage that has just been abandoned. “You two should go over there.” She grabs both Becky and I by the arm and practically shoves us in the direction of the empty cage.

“Uh, sure.” I take her queue and glance at Becky before we head to the other cage. That was so fucking awkward.

Becky scowls. “Well, that was rude.”

“Eh. That's just the way she is.” I look back at Willow, not very pleased with the situation either.

“Not that I don't want to spend time with you.” Her anger quickly drops and concern that she offended me takes its place.

“They just started dating. She probably wants alone time with him,” I inform her as I open the cage door for her.

“I get that, but that's no reason why we can't all still be friends.” She huffs. “I hate people like that, the kind who abandon their friends just because they started dating someone.”

I hate it, too, but that's not what's going on here. “It happens sometimes.”

“Well, it's shitty.” She picks up a bat and steps up to the plate.

“I'm guessing that asking her if she wants to go to the gym with you didn't go so well.” I screw my face, already knowing the answer.

“I don't think she wants anything to do with me.” She swings at the first ball and misses.

“Just give her some time. She'll come around.” I lean against the cage. My gaze keeps drifting over to Peter and Willow. Willow looks a lot happier now that I've taken Becky off of her hands.

“Maybe you should talk to her for me. Tell her that I want to be her friend,” Becky suggests.

“She doesn't listen to me either.” I sigh.

“Then I guess we're both the odd people out.” She smiles back at me, hitting the next ball.

“I guess.” I scrub my hand across my face.

“I feel so lonely seeing them together like that. It reminds me of what I don't have in my life, you know.”

“Yeah. I get that.” I watch Willow beam with pride every time Peter gives her praise for hitting a ball.

“Damn. It looks like my family is leaving.” Becky walks up and opens the cage door. I barely even noticed she'd finished her round of balls. “Sorry I couldn't hang out longer.” She frowns.

“It's fine. I guess I'll just go annoy them.”

“One of us has to annoy them, right?” She giggles and gives my chest a gentle slap with the back of her hand.

I can't help but think that when she's being honest she's not a horrible person.

“Take care, Becky.” I wave at her as she heads back to her family, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder.

She's going to be a handful someday for whoever can manage to tame her.

While part of me knows I should stay by myself and allow Willow and Peter to enjoy their date, another part of me doesn't give a fuck about what they want. Willow dragged me here just to use me. She can suffer my presence. Maybe if I ruin their date, she'll know not to call me next time—that she'd just be trading one problem for another.

“Man. You should have run over and grabbed the 80mph cage when Becky's family left,” Peter tells me, his gaze stuck on the cage that's now being taken over by a group of teenagers.

“I didn't think about it.” I glance back at it, completely jaded.

Willow finishes her round of balls and leaves the cage to join us. “Do you want to go next?” she asks Peter.

“Nah. I'm thinking that maybe we should go for drinks instead. It's too packed here tonight.”

He's not wrong. It's insanely busy.

“Well, I guess I'll head out, too.” I internally sigh. I just left the cage that Becky and I were in, and a couple has already taken it over. And like Peter, I feel like the one that he and Willow are sharing is too slow for me. There's no point in staying here.

“You should come with us,” Willow suggests.

I avoid the urge to quirk my head back. Seriously? She just called me here to be a distraction for Becky so that the two of them could be alone. Why would she want me to go have drinks with them?

I take a step back. “Nah. I don't want to be a third wheel.”

Peter slaps me on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Don't be a pussy.”

“A pussy, huh?” I snort. “Well, if that's what you'll think of me, then I suppose I can come hang out for a little while.”

We leave the batting cages and head to a nearby bar. After ordering drinks, Peter looks over at one of the pool tables in the corner of the room and asks if we want to play. When Willow sheepishly admits that she doesn't know how to play, he seems delighted by the chance to teach her.

It feels strange standing on the sidelines while he explains the rules. Not quite right. I remember teaching her how to play tennis, and tendrils of jealousy snake through me. The only thing keeping me from being completely miserable is the fact that Willow keeps trying to make sure I'm engaged with them. Any second that Peter isn't showing her something, she's by my side.

“Now that I know how to play, I'm going to smoke you like I do in chess.” She elbows me in the side.

“That's some beginner's confidence you've got there.” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

“It's a game of strategy, so I have to be better at it than you are.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

I smirk at how she sees things. Most novice pool players would only be focusing on getting their balls in the pockets. She's already planning her defensive game. It's rather impressive.

Not surprisingly, though, she can't shoot a ball straight to save her life. Her stance is all off. And when Peter steps up behind her, putting his arms around her to guide her into the correct position, I feel my heart sink and my blood start to boil.

There's a moment happening between them. I can see all the signs. Willow intakes a shallow breath. Her eyes grow hooded as she loses all concentration and glances back at him. Peter presses his body a bit too closely, practically enveloping her. His expression reminds me of that of a predator, but there's a softness behind it that I haven't seen when he was with other girls. Genuine affection, perhaps.

Whatever the case, I feel like I'm standing outside of a building, peering in through the window at something I shouldn't be seeing. It's an incredibly intimate moment that I don't want to bear witness to...because it's painful to me. It makes me want to come between them—to tear him off of her because this isn't right. She shouldn't be looking at him like that. Shouldn't even be with him.

And for the first time I think something that makes me understand the uncomfortable vice grip around my heart.

She should be with me.