I direct my thoughts to baseball and only baseball for the next several innings as Malone and Truly trade stories, poking each other in places only a sibling can reach, with Charlotte and I chiming in from time to time.

But as we slide into the seventh-inning stretch, something I’ve been sidestepping is becoming unsidesteppable. These two are so connected. They love each other madly, and they support each other savagely.

As it should be.

I love my little sister like crazy. I’d do anything for her, and I do—running a second business to finance her education. And I have zero regrets about it.

I understand the deep and abiding love between siblings.

But guilt is a splinter under my skin. Guilt over the lie I’m telling Malone. The lie of omission.

For the second time, I slept with my best mate’s sister.

Once can be a mistake, can be forgivable, even.

But twice is deliberate.

And if I do it again, it’ll feel like an affair.

Though nothing about last night felt illicit. Everything felt all too right, all too true. Was it that way for her? Did she feel the same something more too?

The loudspeaker crackles, interrupting my thoughts as the announcer tells us it’s time for “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

We stand and sing a rousing rendition.

When it ends, Truly smiles at her brother. “Remember how we used to duet that song when we were kids and Dad took us to the games?”

Malone’s smile is genuine and a little wistful, like he’s remembering those times with their father. “We duetted everything. We had a blast, especially with Dad.”

“We did.” Truly drapes an arm around him. “You have the pipes, but I can hold my own. We killed it at Christmas.”

“Jingle Bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,” Malone croons.

“Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh,” she sings.

Malone returns to his speaking voice. “But that was nothing compared to the time you came home from college, and whipped up some pancakes for breakfast and a song about them too. Right on the spot, with your spatula as a microphone. I was all kinds of impressed.”

“Hello? I love pancakes. They deserve all the odes.” Truly shimmies her shoulders, and with a bluesy tone, she and Malone sing to the tune of “On a Bicycle Built for Two.”

“Pancakes, pancakes, give me your answer true . . . I’m half-crazy over the love of you . . . it won’t be a stylish affair . . . we can’t afford flatware, but I’ll gobble you down, till you’re all around . . . in my huge belly!”

I lean back in the seat, watching them. It’s completely endearing. It tugs on my heart and makes it ache at the same damn time. When they’re done, I slow-clap along with Charlotte.

“And this is why I’m so damn grateful you sing at my bar too,” Charlotte says, patting Malone on the arm.

“It was nice of me to share my brother with you, wasn’t it?” Truly says.

“Ladies, ladies. There’s enough of me to go around,” Malone says, then looks at Truly. “But that’s your family-friendly pancake number, sis. Don’t hold back on the naughtier one you sang when Mom left the kitchen. As a matter of fact, I sang it to Sloane the other morning.”

“You sang my pancake seduction number to your fiancée? The woman who swoons every time you sing? I’m shocked.”

He shrugs with a smirk. “It worked.”

I chime in. “I want to hear the pancake seduction tune.”

Truly huffs, the kind of sound you make when you’re not really irritated. “Really? You want my not-safe-for-work pancake song?”

Charlotte’s hand shoots up. “Hello! How did I not know about this? Sing it, girl. Sing it now.”

Truly straightens her shoulders, purses her lips, and makes a sexy little humming sound in the back of her throat. “Come get some pancakes. I know you want 'em. I got some pancakes. Hot off the griddle. Come get some pancakes.”

I tug on my collar because it’s too hot for words here. I’d like to come get her pancakes. I’d like to pour syrup all over her and lick it off.

And yet, here I am at a ballgame, having a blast with my friends. Am I willing to risk moments like this too?

There are my stakes, there are hers, and then there are these. This deep familial bond.

Truly and Malone are so close they can sing Christmas songs together at Yankee Stadium. They can harmonize about fluffy carbs, they can talk about missing their dad, and it’s all part of who they are.

I can’t ruin that. I can’t take a chance I might damage this precious connection.

I have to stay out of the horizontal zone with Truly. No matter how hard it is.

31

Truly: That went well, I’d say.

Charlotte: They won. Of course it went well. Oh, did you mean how you and Jason should be nominated for Oscars for acting like you’re friends?

Truly: It’s not an act!

Charlotte: I know. You really are good friends. Like Spencer and I were. And obviously we still are.

Truly: And now you’re husband and wife, and mommy and daddy too. :)

Charlotte: Seems we did okay. :) Point being, I didn’t smell anything fishy. Well, except for the floor of Yankee Stadium, but that’s up there with the ten surfaces on which you never want to place a purse.

Truly: Alongside the Port Authority?

Charlotte: Yes, and any men’s restroom. Including those in the Four Seasons.

Truly: Don’t forget the Ritz too.

Charlotte: Anyway, just keep on this falling-out-of-bed path and you’ll be fine. As long as you don’t slip onto his dick again, you can totally be friends forever!

Truly: Thanks for the tip. I’ll try to avoid falling onto his cock.

Charlotte: Well, you do have a history of accidentally landing on it.