Undeniably Perfect (Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book 1) Read online

  Undeniably Perfect

  A Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book One

  S.E. Rose

  ARC Copy

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by S.E. Rose

  Copyright © 2020 S. E. Rose

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.seroseauthor.com

  Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of adult relationships and violence as well as derogatory language. If such things offend you, this book is not for you. The book is intended for mature readers.

  Created with Vellum

  To my family, who provide me with endless fodder for this series. What can I say? We are all perfectly imperfect, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter One

  Kent

  Kent: What a fucking mess!

  C-Dog: Uh, dude, this is the family chat

  Kent: Fuck

  Mothership: Kent Jason Moore, watch your language!

  Kent: Sorry, Mom

  Mother Hen: Seriously, KJ?

  Kent: Jesus Christ, it’s just a bad word!

  Kylie: HEHEHE

  Kent: (eye rolling emoji)

  Di: What’s a fucking mess?

  Dad: I’m trying to work here!

  Mothership: Kent, do you need something, sweetheart?

  Kent: Uh, nope. False alarm. Sorry, rents.

  I throw my phone on the bed. FML! I need to get going, but I also need sibling input and now. My phone buzzes. I groan and look over to see that my oldest sister is calling me. Lane or Lanie or Mother Hen as I like to call her is always the one that checks on me. Thus, the nickname.

  I answer because I know if I don’t, she’ll just call back.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s wrong?” Lanie asks.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Work issues,” I answer as I stare at a mark on my ceiling and wonder how the fuck that happened.

  “Care to expand on that?” she retorts. I can picture her face with a raised eyebrow.

  I sigh. “I had a meeting with the manager and owner. They say I don’t have my heart in the game, and I need to get my act together or I’ll be playing somewhere else. It was basically a tough-love pep talk,” I explain with a groan.

  “Well, you have been playing like total shit lately,” she says matter-of-fact. I shake my head.

  “Thanks, Lanie,” I say through gritted teeth just as my phone sounds with an incoming call. I glance down to see Di’s name on the screen. Di and Lanie are my older twin sisters. And where one goes, so goes the other. Although they are super different, so different it’s hard to believe they are twins.

  “Hold on,” I say to her as I click over to Diana.

  “Lanie called, didn’t she?” Di answers.

  “Yeah, she’s on the other line,” I state with a groan.

  “Just put us on three-way,” she demands. I sigh again and do as I’m told because…well, because my older sisters beat me down enough as a kid to know better.

  “Di?” Lanie says as I click over. I swear to god both these women have ESP or something.

  “Hey,” she replies.

  “Kent needs to get his head in the game,” Lanie says.

  “At work?” Di asks.

  “Should I just go and let you two sort this out for me?” I ask them as I run a hand over my face.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Kent,” Lanie says.

  “Is he getting cut from the team?” Di says on a gasp.

  “Di, it doesn’t exactly work like that. This isn’t high school,” I try to explain but am promptly cut off by Lanie.

  “He just needs to get his shit together. Sounds like upper management gave him a talking to. Ya know, a ‘scared straight’ type of approach,” Lanie says.

  “Ohhh…like time-out for baseball players?” Di asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Why don’t I let you two go?”

  “Chillax, little bro,” Di scolds. “We just need the M team to figure it out for you. Now, I take it the rents don’t know anything.”

  “Nope. I don’t need Mom freakin’ out.”

  “Good point,” Di says. “Do you have any days off soon?”

  I laugh, loudly.

  “Uh, Di, do you sleep under a rock or are those blonde hairs seeping into your brain cells?” Lanie asks. “He’s about to be in playoffs!!”

  “Oh…right. Sorry, rough night last night,” she says.

  “Di, it’s Thursday,” I say.

  “I had to grade a billion papers,” she says trailing off. Di’s a teacher and her kids are her life…along with finding Mr. Right, which has not been a successful venture so far.

  “OK, so pedal to the metal, then,” Di adds.

  “I know, I know. I just…I’m not feeling it,” I admit. My admission is greeted by total silence.

  “Are you OK?” Lanie asks me after a long moment.

  “I’m fine…I’m just…I don’t know. It’s like I’ve lost my mojo or something,” I say to her.

  “Well, shit, son, we need to go find that ASAP,” she says. I laugh because Lanie doesn’t swear often, so when she does it just funny and sort of adorable.

  “Let’s go get drinks?” Di suggests, which is equally adorable because Di isn’t a huge drinker.

  “Di, it’s almost playoffs,” I point out as I flop back onto my pillow.

  “Soooo?”

  “So, I don’t drink during playoffs,” I reply.

  “Really? Well, it’s not playoffs yet,” she says.

  “Di, have you not followed KJ’s career at all?” Lanie asks.

  “Sorry, some of us are busy,” she pouts.

  “Ladies, focus,” I try to herd the cats I call sisters.

  “Fine, what about coffee?” Di suggests, ignoring the fact that she is clueless about playoffs or what I need to do during them.

  “I could later this afternoon,” I say as I pull up my calendar on my phone. My next game is in three days and it’s out of town. Normally, I’m pretty quiet during the end of the season, introspective. I have to stay in the zone, but that’s my exact probl
em, I can’t get in the “zone.”

  “Yeah, oh hold on. Uhhhh…OK, I can after three but before five,” Lanie says.

  “I can after two thirty but then I need to be at a meeting at four,” Di says.

  I groan. “So, coffee at the usual place at three?” I ask.

  “Can we change it to the coffee shop by my office?” Lanie asks.

  I groan again. “Fine, three at the coffee shop across from Lanie’s office,” I repeat.

  “Yep,” “Roger that,” my sisters say in unison.

  “OK, over and out,” I say as I click end on the call and toss my phone back on the bed. It’s only ten in the morning, but I’ve already worked out and been to a meeting. I stare up at the ceiling. I need to pull my shit together and I need to do it fast.

  Chapter Two

  The coffee shop is in downtown Silver Spring, which is convenient because it’s sort of halfway between the stadium and my house. I get there at two forty-five. I order myself a decaf cold brew coffee and find a seat near the window. I watch as the world goes by. I have so much shit to figure out that I’m overwhelmed just thinking about it. A young mom walks by with a kid holding each of her hands. They are obliviously adorable as they each hold stuffed animals and nearly walk into every person in their path. I realize how jealous I am as they turn the corner, disappearing from my view. I envy the kids for being able to have no cares in the world and I envy that mom for having a family. I’m officially in my late twenties now and most of my friends are getting married, talking about getting married, or at least with someone. I’m none of the above. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want a family someday.

  “Earth to KJ?” Di’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

  I turn and she’s holding a coffee and motioning for me to scoot over. I do and she sits down with a thump. I look over and see a giant bag full of papers and strange felt things.

  “What in the actual fuck is that?” I ask.

  She sighs. “Kids have a project tomorrow. We had an in-service day and just finished, so I decided to go buy some supplies. Being a teacher is such a thankless job.”

  I nod. Di and Lanie are the most hardworking of all of us kids. I’ve never seen two people so committed to their livelihoods. It’s not shocking that neither of them is in a relationship. Although for Di, it’s not for a lack of trying. I swear she chases guys away with her romance overload, but she won’t take my advice to back the fuck off the Romeo and Juliet talk.

  “Where’s Lanie?”

  “She’s coming. She had to meet with a new client.” Lanie is the lawyer. She couldn’t have picked a better career. I’m waiting for her to become a law professor or a judge. She’d rock at either. I see her getting burnt out at her law firm, but she’d never admit it because that’s just not like her.

  “Sooo…about your nine-one-one emergency. We need a game plan.”

  I roll my eyes. “Di, there’s nothing you can do. Listen, I appreciate the sentiment. Really, I do, but I think this time, I need to figure shit out for myself.”

  “Well, what’s your big plan, then? I can recommend some great self-help books.”

  I nearly spit out my coffee. “Self-help books?”

  “Yeah, there’s this one—”

  “Please tell me you’re not recommending self-help books?” Lanie’s voice comes from behind me. I turn to see her holding her normal coffee, which is black. It’s straightforward and without frills, just like Lanie.

  I look over at Di and laugh. I’ve never thought about how their choices in coffee represents their personalities. Di sips her caramel macchiato with an extra shot of caramel and an extra shot of espresso, coconut milk, and cinnamon dusting on top of whipped cream. It’s complicated and girly, just like Di. I stare down at my coffee. Cappuccino with a shot of vanilla. It’s simple but too simple. I decide I need to start paying attention to how people take their coffee. It does say a lot about you.

  “What’s so funny?” Lanie asks.

  I shake my head. “Just pondering the stranger things in life.”

  “Well, screw that book. We need a real plan. What did they say?”

  “I already told you.”

  “No, like word for word.”

  “Lanie, seriously? I don’t remember it word for word.”

  She sighs. “What about extra coaching? You can work more with…what’s the pitching coach’s name?”

  “Greg Walters.”

  “OK, so can’t Mr. Walters work with you more?”

  I shake my head. “Lanie, what the fuck do you think I do all day? Sit on my ass? Twiddle my thumbs and play PlayStation?”

  “No. But isn’t there time for more practice?”

  I go through my daily schedule with her. Her eyes widen. “OK, so no more practice. Damn, that’s like a lot of practice time.”

  “It’s literally my job. And you’re one to talk. Your typical work week is like seventy hours.”

  She shrugs. “That’s different. It’s just my brain working, not my whole body.”

  “Still.”

  “OK, back to you. What about taking time off? Can you take a day off and just be you?”

  “Nope. Refer back to our previous conversation where you astutely reminded Di here that playoffs are around the corner.”

  “Right. Well, OK. Let me think.” Lanie taps her fingers on the table.

  “Hey, how about a guys’ night with the boys?” Di suggests.

  I shrug. “I mean yeah, but I don’t see how that gets my head in the game.”

  “Therapy?” Lanie suggests.

  I give her a pointed look. “During what hour of the day will I be doing that?”

  “Well, shit, bro. I don’t know. I’m striking out here.”

  Lanie’s phone rings and she holds out a finger to us as she stands and walks over to a quiet corner of the coffee shop.

  Di glances over at her. “She has a point, KJ. I mean, when can you relax and recharge if your entire day is booked, every day.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, and I know that means she’s thinking.

  “What?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “You gonna share that with the class, DC?” I ask, pulling out her seldomly used nickname.

  “You need to break your monotony. You know, change it up?”

  “Change up what?”

  “You do the same thing every day. That’s boring as heck. Try something different. Go to a different restaurant. Meet someone new. Anything that’s not your norm.”

  I pause and ponder what she’s said. It’s valid. “Not a bad plan.”

  Lanie walks back over and sits down with a huff. “People are assholes.”

  Di giggles. “Uh, duh. Don’t worry, while you were dealing with asshole lawyers, I solved KJ’s issue.”

  “Oh?”

  I nod. “I need to break my monotony.”

  Lanie purses her lips, considering the concept. She finally nods her approval. “OK, yeah. That might work. Well played, Di.” She looks down at her watch. “I hate to break up this lovefest, but I should head back to finish this motion. I’ll see you two later.” She leans down and kisses us both before heading out of the door, the phone already up in her hand.

  Di looks after her and shakes her head. “That one takes everything too seriously.”

  I nod my agreement. “That she does.”

  “Come on, you can walk me back to my car,” she says. I follow her out, and we chat about her latest male conquest.

  “Promise you’ll try it,” Di says as she pulls her car fob out of her purse.

  “I promise,” I say, holding up a Scout finger salute.

  “Good. Now, go be productive,” she adds with a wink as she gets in her car, but not before hugging me. I hug her back, and we squeeze each other tight.

  “Love you, little psycho,” she says with a wink.

  “You too, little Lolita,” I respond with a nickname I gave her as a teenager.

  She sticks out he
r tongue and pulls away, leaving me pondering life on the sidewalk.

  Chapter Three

  My manager barely looks up from his phone as I make my way over to his desk. He holds up a finger, and I sit down in the chair across from him.

  Walter Clyde is a big guy. He has a head full of gray hairs, but he also knows his shit and is well-respected by the team.

  I have to place a hand on my leg to keep myself from nervously bouncing it, a habit that I can’t seem to break. After a minute, Walt gets off the phone.

  “I need you to go to this address at two today,” he says, handing me a business card. I look down and read it.

  “Tabitha Crane Photography.”

  It has a phone number and address for a building that’s over near the water.

  I hold up the card. “What’s this for?”

  “Well, Karen thought maybe getting involved in a local charity campaign would help you. The team needed a face for the event, and you are the perfect match. A big PR firm joined forces with the children’s hospital. They are having an auction as well. You’ll need to sign some memorabilia for an auction, attend the gala, and do some press.”

  Damn. He knows that’s my charity and so does Karen, my publicist, who is on maternity leave. Lanie had lymphoma as a kid. It was caught early, and she beat it and has been cancer-free since she was eight, but it took a toll on her for sure. It also took a toll on the whole family. It’s our family’s number one charity.

  I nod because no words are necessary. Walt knows this. He also knows the hospital is my kryptonite when it comes to charity events. I wonder if this is his subtle way of getting me to get out of my headspace. I also wonder how he drew the short straw in instructing me to do this.