How is everything changing in the blink of an eye? Suddenly, we’re all moving at max speed. There are a million questions swirling around in my head and my anxiety is ready to run rampant. Shaking my head, I uncharacteristically push the unwanted thoughts away for one night.
“We need one last roommate night then between the three of us. We can reminisce and stay up all night and be twenty-somethings without all the adult responsibility and relationships and drama. I want one last night for us.”
I know I sound sappy and overly emotional. It could be the three margaritas swimming through my system. It’s probably the notion of everything changing and all of us growing up and apart, moving all the way across the country from one another.
Bridget has been my best friend for four years, since we met in our Biology 101 class freshman year. I had sat in the second row of the lecture hall, thinking the second row said, ‘I’m serious about learning, but not a suck up,’ thus not choosing the front row. Then this bubbly blonde had all but ripped me from my seat and pulled me toward the back of the class, insisting I’d thank her later. She’d said she was looking out for me and wouldn’t allow me to sit with the rest of the nerds. I did end up thanking her, mainly because our professor for that class liked to get in everyone’s face in the first couple of rows and he was definitely a sprayer, not a sayer. From then on, we sat together every day. We then progressed to daily lunches, and by the end of the semester, we had made our schedules match and went apartment hunting for the following year. We’ve lived together ever since.
Phoebe was a tough sell for both of us. She isn’t a nursing major, but she was looking for roommates and had the nicest available apartment by campus. Still, the three of us bonded and became good friends over the remainder of undergrad and I’m sad our paths are parting.
Though Phoebe is blunt and intrusive and only cares about number one, I’m going to miss her take-no-bullshit attitude.
And I can’t even think about Bridget leaving without getting teary-eyed.
“You ready to go?” I’m able to snap out of it and pay as I follow my roommate out of the restaurant. At the very least, this night got me out of my head and made me forget about Hollis for a bit.
My parents couldn’t bother to come to my graduation. They said since they’s already suffered through my brother Jackson’s graduation, they knew what it was all about and didn’t see a reason to sit through another ceremony. My parents. Always so charming. Never mind the fact that I am their youngest child and only daughter. They don’t see the point of watching hundreds of other people graduate for me to cross the stage in two minutes. They said maybe they’d come to my grad school graduation. Maybe being the key word. I’m not holding my breath.
Bridget’s dad came and stayed for all of five minutes, leaving her with a big congratulatory check. Her mom was working and couldn’t afford the flight from Florida. It’s amazing how differently her parents live.
Phoebe, on the other hand…well, I’m not even sure she told her parents this week was graduation. She never talks about her parents. I’m not sure what kind of relationship they have, if any. On the bright side, since all of our family lives are screwy, it means we get to spend this last night together in the apartment before we part ways.
A blender full of margaritas sits on the coffee table between us. It’s one of the last remaining items left in the place, aside from the couches, beds, and large appliances. The apartment came furnished. Other than the big ticket items, the place is devoid of us ever living here.
Well, aside from the hole in the wall where Phoebe threw her shoe at one of her exes and the chunky heel went straight through the drywall. I don’t think she’ll be getting her security deposit back.
I’m three margaritas in, which is just enough to keep me from panicking, when Bridget reminds me of the dire situation I’m facing.
“Soooo, have you figured out what you’re going to do yet?” I’ve started shipping boxes of my things to my new apartment building in Philly for them to store until I get there. With both Bridget and Phoebe moving out, I can’t afford this place on my own, and I’m not going to rent a new place here for two months.
“Nope, but I called my apartment building in Philly to see if I’m able to move in early. It’s my only option. They said to call back on Monday to talk to the building manager.” With every moment that passes, I get more and more anxious. It’s no wonder I’m working my way toward my fourth margarita.
“What about hottie Hollis?” Bridget asks between sips of her drink.
“I guess my summer of fun is getting cut short. I’ll still go with him for these two weeks, but after that, Philadelphia here I come.”
“I’m sorry,” my best friend says, and I shake my head no. It’s not her fault I have to move away and I won’t have her feeling guilty.
“Refill me.” I hold out my cup while Bridget fills me to the brim.
Tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll panic about my living situation, but for now, I’m choosing to ignore it. Two weeks with Hollis will be fun, sure, but it’s not like this relationship is actually going to go anywhere. I’m being realistic and a clean break is exactly what I need.
“You can still get a lot of dick in two weeks’ time.”
I choke on my marg at Phoebe’s words and Bridget laughs.
“I’m not going to sleep with him.” I’m determined, even in my drunken state.
“Sure, okay. You’re going on the road with a pro ballplayer. You’ll be staying in swanky hotels together; I’m assuming the same room and same bed. But, sure, you won’t sleep with him. No doubt.” Phoebs scrolls through her phone. After a few seconds, she holds it out for me to see. “You’re going to resist this?”
It’s a shirtless picture of Hollis. His body is insane. Abs carved into his torso like marble. Biceps flexing has he holds a bat, ready to swing. All very impressive, but my eyes are constantly flitting back to the deep cut V at his waist.
“He gets out of the shower after a long day. Water droplets dripping from his hair onto his chest. He pulls a McSteamy, walking into the hotel room wearing nothing but a terrycloth towel around his waist.” Bridget paints a sexy picture. My swallow is thick as if I’m living in the moment now, and not merely fantasizing about it. “You’re telling me you’re going to turn that down? What if the towel slips? You see his cock, long and hard, ready for you and you…what? Cover your eyes like you’re ten and your parents walked into the room as you’re watching the sex scene in Titanic as if you haven’t already secretly seen it hundreds of times? Will you leave the room? What’s your plan here, Lila?”
I want to wipe the smug smirks off my best friends’ faces. “Maybe I’ll pay for my own room.”
“If you could afford your own room, you’d be able to afford this apartment for the next two months.” Phoebe has a point, though I don’t want to admit it.
“I don’t know, okay? It’s not like he’s going to force me into having sex with him or something. He’s very respectful. He’s not like that.”
“That may be true, but he’s still a guy and once morning comes, the flag will be up, and he can’t control it,” Bridget reminds me as if I haven’t been obsessing over these thoughts since the minute I agreed to this ridiculous plan.
“You know what, you’re right. I’m going to call him right now and tell him I can’t come.” I reach for my phone, but my reflexes are sluggish thanks to my sodden brain. Bridget snags my phone and holds it away from me. Frankly, I’m too lazy to fight her for it.
“We’re not trying to scare you or convince you to cancel, right, B?” Phoebe says, and Bridget nods in agreement. Before I can ask the obvious question, she answers it for me. “We’re just trying to be realistic here and get you to fuck him. Let us live vicariously through you.”
“Shut up.”
They both laugh.
Would it be so bad if I had a fling with Hollis? I mean, it could be fun. We have an expiration date, keeping things short and sweet.
I wouldn’t have to worry about feelings and getting attached.
A fortnight fling.
I should definitely never say that out loud or there’s no way I’m getting laid.
EIGHT
Hollis
I park my car outside of Lila’s apartment. My smile is broad as I imagine what’s to come. I’m excited to spend these next two weeks away with Lila, even though the entire idea and concept of it all is borderline insane. I’m even more surprised she ended up agreeing to it, but I’m glad she did.
I love my job. It’s any boy’s dream to become a pro ballplayer and I don’t want to take any of it for granted. Still, it can get lonely. Sure, there’s always an abundance of girls no matter where we go, but they aren’t always full of substance. Well, no, that’s not true. They may be the female Albert Einstein for all I know, but a lot of them act really dumb. I don’t think it’s cute.
Lila is just…different, as cliché as it sounds. The truth is, though, I’ve never had this reaction to any girl before. It sounds like a line, but it’s the damn truth. I’m a lovesick puppy, unable to get her out of my head and I don’t even want to try. Luckily, I don’t have to.
I enter the building and the elevator climbs the floors at a pace equivalent to molasses. I may be a bit overeager to see Lila and get on the road.
I knock on the door and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Lila’s roommate answers, the one with bright red hair and a grimace, and waves me inside. My girl is sitting on the couch hugging her blonde roommate, Bridget I believe, and they’re both crying.
“What’s happening?” I ask the third roommate whose name I can’t remember.
“You walked in on a love fest. They’ve been this way for thirty minutes already. You might want to get comfortable.” With that, she disappears down the hall and shuts her door. Okay then.
“Lila?” She appears reluctant to pull away from her friend.
“Hi, I’m sorry.”
My smile drops. She’s backing out.
I take a minute to let the words and the disappointment wash over me. I should’ve seen this coming. Lila is sensible and responsible. She doesn’t seem like a spontaneous person. I’m kicking myself for not mentally preparing for this scenario.
I glance around the space, waiting for her explanation and endless apologies. The place is barren, vastly different from the last time I was here. There was life and color taking up every inch of this place before. There were pictures on the wall, shoes by the front door, throw pillows on the couch making the space more homey. Now, everything is white. Plain. Empty.
It doesn’t even look like anyone lives here.
“What’s going on?” I stay rooted in place, not wanting further rejection if I go to her and she pushes me away.
“Bridget is leaving for Florida this weekend. I thought I had all summer with her, but she went and got a freaking job. Phoebe is moving to California with her boyfriend. Now, when I come home from the games, I won’t have anywhere to stay because I can’t afford this place on my own. Besides, the place was under Phoebe’s name so I can’t really stay here without her anyway.” It’s mostly blubbering but I catch the gist of it.
“So, you’ll stay at my place when we’re in Boston. What’s the big deal?” Her eyes are wide like she’s waiting for the punchline.
“Do we have any brown paper bags here?” Lila asks her friend who rolls her eyes. I think I’m missing the joke.
“It’ll be okay.” I feel like I’m invading a private conversation. “Now you don’t have to move to Philadelphia early. This is a good thing!” Bridget says with a smile, though Lila still doesn’t look convinced.
“You were gonna move to Philly?” She nods. “Does this mean you’re not backing out on me?” I say, my vulnerabilities exposed.
“What? Of course not. I wouldn’t have let you drive here if that were the case.” Lila says, acting very blasé.
I cock my head. Thanks, I think?
“We should get going. I’ll wait for you in the car.” I point to a suitcase on the floor and she nods, affirming it’s hers. I grab it to carry it down to my car as she turns back to her friend.
I’ve only been waiting for five minutes before she comes downstairs, sunglasses covering her puffy eyes. Her arms are wrapped around her body as if to comfort herself.
I’m leaning against my car as she walks up to me. “You okay?”
She sighs. “I will be. Just don’t turn out to be a serial killer.”
I shake my head and open the door for her to climb into the passenger seat.
The ride to the airport is quiet. I don’t push her to talk, but I can’t in good conscience let her get on the plane without making sure she’s not going to regret it. “Are you sure you want to do this? You seem pretty upset.”
“I’m upset because my best friend is moving to Florida and I won’t see her every day like I have for the past four years. It has nothing to do with you or us or this…adventure we’re going on.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” I pray she doesn’t ask me to turn the car around now.
“I’d regret not going and not giving us a chance.”
I smile and reach across the center console to grab her hand. “Well then cheer up, baby, because we have a plane to catch and you have people to meet.”
“Melissa seems nice.” Lila is pretending to unpack her suitcase, but in reality, I know she’s trying to keep herself busy and not panic. The girl’s an open book and her words are written all over her face.
“Yeah, she and Jimmy are good people.” Lila bonded with my teammate’s wife on the plane, which I’m grateful for. Now she won’t feel as out of place during the games. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”
“What? Don’t you have like practice or something you have to be at?” Her voice gets helium balloon-level high when she’s nervous.
“No, it’s a travel day. We basically just get to chill. When we don’t have to fly across the country it’s different, but today we get the day off.”
“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Her words are laced with panic and I bite my cheek to hold back a grin.
“We could grab some food or go to the beach?”
We play the Los Angeles Angels this series before heading to Arizona for the next stretch. The weather is beautiful and I don’t want to waste my free day inside, but I’ll do whatever Lila wants to do. I just want to spend time with her.
“Yeah, sure, surprise me.”
I laugh and shake my head as I hold the door open and wait for Lila to walk through it. If she won’t decide, we’ll do a little bit of both—first food, then beach.
I pull a nondescript baseball cap down over my head. You never know when and where you’ll get recognized and I really just want a chill day with my girl.
We take an Uber to Huntington Beach and grab a couple of hotdogs from a food truck.
“Have you ever been to California before?”
“Nope. First time on the west coast.”
“Then come on.” I motion for her to follow me.
“What?” She’s hesitant, still not ready to blindly do as I say.
“Trust me.”
I take her hand and pull her through the sand. She’s all but jogging behind me to keep up so I slow down, not wanting to risk her losing her hotdog, but we don’t stop until we’re standing at the edge of the water.
“Where’s the fire?” she grumbles and I smirk.
“You have to dip your feet in the water. It’s tradition.”
“For who?” She’s apparently not amused. “I’m not a big fan of the ocean.”
“Fear of sharks?”
“Something like that.”
I’ve hit a sore subject and I’m interested to hear the story behind it.
“I’ll do it with you. Come on.”
“Can I at least finish my food?”
I’ll allow her to finish her hotdog, but a
fter that, all bets are off. I wait impatiently as she takes her time. I’m getting antsy and she knows it. I’m pretty sure she’s been inching her way back, trying to get as far away from me and the water as possible.
“Lila?”
“Yes?” she calls from ten feet back.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a little sunny where you are. I thought I’d find some shade.” I look up and down the beach in dramatic fashion to make a point.
“Unless you’re going back to the hotel, you won’t find any shade on the beach.” People aren’t even using umbrellas anymore because it’s evening; the sun isn’t even at its highest or hottest point. “But, hey, if you’re ready to head back…” I smirk, calling her bluff.
I walk toward her, ready to leave if that’s the decision she makes. Though, as predicted, her face gets pale and she taps her chin with her pointer finger, as if to reconsider.
“You know? You’re right. It’s a little toasty out here. The water sounds,” she does a little chef’s kiss, “refreshing.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I close the remaining distance between us and grab her around the waist. She’s unsteady, not expecting my attack. She shrieks and I fear an onlooker will see what is going on and call the authorities or something. Lila might let them, just to get away from me for the night.
“Hollis Graham, put me down.” She’s shrieks and I shush her. We should’ve come up with aliases so she wouldn’t say my name.
“I will put you down in about fifteen more feet.” I walk casually toward the water’s edge while her tiny fists beat on my back. “You know, this could be a romantic moment if you let it. We’re on the beach, it’s nearing sunset. I just bought you dinner.”
She scoffs. “You’re hauling me toward certain death in a foreign state against my will.”
“Certain death? Lila, I’m asking you to put your toes in the water, not to swim the English Channel.” Still, I put her down, not wanting to push her or piss her off. I didn’t want to start our trip this way. I had no idea this would be such a big deal to her.
Fastball Flirt (The Boys of Summer Series Book 1) Page 5
