It Was Me

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It Was Me Page 10

by Anna Cruise


  She started to protest but I stopped her.

  “I want you, Abby. Only you. And if playing ball means I have to give you up, I won't do it. That's the no-brainer for me. Period.”

  It was. I'd thought about it a lot. Hell, it was the only thing I could think about. I'd hyper-focused on both scenarios. I pictured myself playing ball and the adrenaline hit me full-force. I knew it'd be fun. I knew it would help secure a future for myself. But then I pictured myself without Abby. Alone in Tucson. Shoved into some dorm, starting over without her. And the pain of that clawed at my gut, made it hard to breathe.

  She picked up the chips and salsa and stood up. “You're making a mistake.”

  I followed her into the kitchen. “No. I'm not.”

  Her back was turned to me as she poured the unused salsa back into the jar. She opened the refrigerator and stowed it inside. She slammed the door shut and swiveled around to face me.

  Her eyes were bright with tears. “I don't want you to go,” she whispered. “But I don't want you to not go, either.”

  I reached for her and pulled her close. She collapsed into me and I could feel her shoulders shake and it was all I could do to fight back my own tears. I hated that she was crying, that she was upset. And I hated that I was the cause of it.

  “Shh,” I whispered into her hair. I rubbed my hands across her back, gently massaging her through her thin tank top. “It's okay. We'll figure it out.”

  She lifted her head and looked at me. A tear trickled down her left cheek and I lifted my hand, used my thumb to gently wipe it away. Jesus, I didn't want her to cry.

  “I don't want to figure it out right now,” she said, her voice soft. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my jaw and I felt myself immediately respond.

  I tightened my grip on her and tilted my head down so my lips were close to hers. “We don't have to.”

  I kissed her, my lips barely touching hers and she sighed against them. I knew what she was feeling, what she was thinking, because I was feeling them, too. The doubt, the worry, the fear. I didn't want her to feel those things. I just wanted to make her forget them. And there was one sure-fire way I knew I could.

  I shifted my hands so I was holding her waist, my fingers splayed wide. I kissed her hard, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth and she groaned. I let my fingers trail slowly up her ribcage before cupping her breasts.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. She thrust her hips into mine and I met her, grinding my cock into her.

  “Bedroom,” I whispered. “Now.”

  We stumbled down the hall, me walking backwards, my lips still attached to hers. I lifted her tank top over her head just as we fell backwards on to the bed. Five seconds later, her bikini top was on the floor and my head was buried between her tits, licking and sucking the smooth expanse of skin. Abby writhed underneath me.

  “I want you,” she breathed, bucking into me as she pulled on my shorts.

  There was nothing I wanted to do more than just bury myself inside of her, slam into her and fuck out my anxiety and frustration, but I didn't. I reached for the hand that was tugging on my shorts and held it tight. She fought me, trying to pull away, but I held fast. With my hand wrapped like a vise around hers, I covered her breast with my mouth, sucking gently.

  “Oh my God,” she said, reaching for me with her other free hand. I lifted off of her and laid down next to her on the bed. “West...”

  “You're gonna wait,” I told her. I lifted my head and looked at her. Her eyes were dark, her mouth open, her lips wet.

  She squirmed as I lowered my head again, this time letting my tongue glide down her stomach. Her skin was a combination of salty and sweet and I took my time kissing her, licking her. Her body was absolute perfection and I knew every contour, every curve. The barely-there freckles that dotted her stomach, the gentle rounding of her abdomen—I loved that she wasn't rail thin—the small mole that marker her left hip. I ran my fingers over her shorts, the soft fabric catching on my fingernails and she inhaled sharply. I tugged on them and she lifted her hips, shimmying out of them. I tossed them to the floor and then yanked her bikini bottoms off and plunged my fingers inside of her. She moaned and pressed her thighs together, trying to draw me deeper inside of her.

  “Now,” she said, her voice ragged. “Now.”

  I didn't need an invitation. The promise of making her wait disappeared because I knew I couldn't. I needed her. I lifted off of her and pushed my shorts to the floor. I hovered over her for a minute, my eyes locked on hers. Then, quickly, I shoved into her and her eyes widened and she gasped.

  “Yes,” she chanted. “Yes. Yes.”

  I stood at the foot of the bed and adjusted her so she was closer to the edge and slammed into her. Over and over, my hands holding her thighs. She closed her eyes and I watched her as I fucked her. I'd promised to make her wait and I wanted to take my time but I couldn't. I just wanted to empty myself into her. I ran a hand up her leg, massaging her as I moved it closer to her clit. I flicked at it gently, rubbing her, creating a rhythm, and she arched her back, whimpering.

  “Come with me,” I whispered, picking up my pace, driving into her over and over. “Come with me.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice raw. I crashed into her, barely hanging on. She opened her eyes and I could tell. “Yes. Now.”

  I already knew. And I was already there.

  NINETEEN

  We didn't stay in bed long. I'd completely disregarded Mr. Sellers' orders and the last thing I needed was to have him come back from lunch and find me in bed with his daughter. But it was more than that.

  I knew I had a phone call to make.

  Coach Childs answered immediately. “West.”

  I paced the living room floor. Abby was in the shower, pouting just a bit because I'd declined her offer to join her. She'd stroked me a little before climbing out of bed, getting me half-aroused, whispering what she'd do to me in the water, and I'd almost caved. But then I'd reminded her about her mom and dad and she'd relented, realizing I was right. We didn't have time. But that didn't stop her from tightening her grip on me and pumping me just enough to get me to full attention before flouncing off to the bathroom, a wicked smile on her lips as she disappeared. It was all I could do to not follow her and shove her up against the shower wall.

  Focus. I needed to focus. “Coach Childs,” I said.

  “Wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon,” he said. He added quickly, “Not that it isn't a good thing. Assuming you have good news, I mean.”

  I took a deep breath, then slowly expelled it. “I'm not sure that it is.”

  There was silence. Then Coach Childs cleared his throat. “No?”

  I sat down on the couch, my knee bouncing up and down as I spoke. “I'm not sure this is the right time for me.”

  “I'm not sure I understand.”

  My knee jackhammered away. “Look, it's a great opportunity. It really is. And I'd love to play ball for Arizona. But it's just not the right time.”

  “There might not be another time, West.” He spoke in a clear, calm voice but I knew what he was telling me. This was a now or never type thing. “You understand that, right?”

  I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Who are you going with instead?”

  “What?”

  He sighed. “You heard me. Who gave you a better offer?”

  “No one,” I said quickly. I thought about the unanswered voice mails and texts lined up on my phone. “And that's the truth. I haven't spoken to anyone else.”

  There was a pause. “I don't understand...”

  I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I didn't want to explain that all of this—me backing out—was because of a girl. As much as I loved Abby, it just wasn't something I was gonna explain. Not to him, not to anyone.

  But I didn't need to.

  “Wait a second,” he said. His tone had lightened considerably. “I'm pretty sure I know what this is about.”

  I didn't
say anything, just waited.

  “You got a girl, don't you?” he asked. “A girl in San Diego. She's with you, isn't she? Came to the try-outs.”

  I nodded, forgetting for a second that he couldn't see me. “Yeah, I have a girlfriend.”

  “And you don't want to leave her,” he said, amused. “Is that it? That's the hang up here?”

  “It's something I've been thinking about, yes,” I admitted.

  I heard him pound his fist on the table. “Well, Jesus, West, why didn't you say so? You need us to find a spot for her here?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Is she in school now? What kind of grades does she pull? I need to know just how many favors I need to call in to get her here.”

  “What?”

  “If the only thing stopping you from playing for me is a girl, “ Coach Childs said. “Then we're bringing the girl here. It's a done deal.”

  TWENTY

  “Come with you?” Abby's voice was flooded with disbelief.

  I nodded. “Coach said it was no problem. There wouldn't be a scholarship or anything but they can get you in. No admissions process, no waiting. Boom, you're with me. Just like that.”

  She was sitting cross-legged on the couch next to me, running a comb through her wet hair. Her face was scrubbed clean and she smelled like peaches and coconut and I had the urge to devour her. Again.

  “Arizona.” She smiled. “Never in a million years did I think I'd willingly move to Arizona.”

  “Is that a yes?” I asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as I felt.

  “I don't know,” she said. She pulled her hair to one side and pulled the comb through. “I mean, I don't know if my parents will pay for it. How much it costs. All that.”

  “You can live with me,” I said quickly. “I can tell them I want an apartment, not a dorm. We can take all the same classes. My books are paid for so we can just share or something. I can get a job here—I'll find something, anything—to help with food and tuition.”

  She laughed. “Slow down. It's not like my parents are destitute. I just mean I'll have to run it by them. See if they're on board, you know?”

  I nodded. I knew what she meant. It wasn't like I was asking her to switch from Mesa, the local San Diego junior college to Grossmont, another JC. Moving to Arizona was a little bit of a big deal. And not just financially. I knew she'd grown up in San Diego, had never lived anywhere else. And moving to Tucson would also mean moving further away from Tana, her best friend. Even though Tana was holed up in San Luis, a few hours up the coast, it was still a relatively easy drive for a weekend visit from San Diego. But from Tucson? Not so much.

  “And if you don't want to, it's okay,” I said. I rubbed her thigh. She'd shaved and her skin was soft and smooth, covered in scented lotion. “But it's an option.”

  She just smiled in response. I knew what she was thinking. I might be spinning it as an option but she knew better—it was the only option if I wanted to play ball. Because I wasn't going to Arizona without her.

  I felt like an asshole for putting that on her. I didn't want everything to fall on Abby but I'd already told her that I wasn't leaving her. Now, with Coach Childs telling me we could be together at Arizona, I'd made my part of the decision. I was in if she was in. But I couldn't make up her mind for her.

  She set the comb down on the coffee table and gathered her hair in her hands, piling it on top of her head. “I want to be with you,” she said finally.

  My heart swelled and I nodded. “Me, too.”

  “And if it means we go to Arizona or Detroit or wherever, I'm in.” She smiled. “I just want to be with you.”

  The sound of voices approached and I knew her parents and sister had returned from lunch. Abby reached for my hand and squeezed.

  “Just think,” she said, grinning. “There's absolutely an added bonus of coming to school in Arizona.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “What's that?”

  Her smile widened just as the front door opened. “No Annika.”

  I laughed. She was right about that.

  Annika raised an eyebrow from behind the massive black sunglasses on her face. “What's so funny?”

  “Nothing,” Abby said, giving me a look that served as warning to not get into it with her.

  I dutifully kept my mouth closed.

  She dropped her massive straw purse on the table and laid her sunglasses on top of it. Her parents came in behind her, Mr. Sellers with one hand over his stomach.

  He collapsed into the chair across from us. “I ate too much.”

  “I thought you were going to the salad place?” Abby asked.

  “The all-you-can-eat salad place,” her mother said, standing behind the chair and shaking her head. “And your father ate all he could eat.”

  “And then some,” he said, tilting his head back.

  Abby's mother stared at her for a moment, then smiled. “You certainly look all...smiley.”

  “Me?” Abby said.

  Her mother nodded.

  Abby glanced at me, then back at her mother. “West has some news.”

  “Learn to spell a new word?” Annika asked, emerging from the kitchen, a bottle of water in her hand.

  “Tell them,” Abby said, ignoring her sister.

  I laced my fingers with hers and looked first at her mom, then her dad. “Arizona offered me a full scholarship.”

  “Holy crap!” her dad exclaimed. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, not at all,” I said. “The coach I met with this morning is offering me a full scholarship to go to school here and play ball.”

  He leaned forward in the chair. “Well, I'd say your meeting with him went a hell of a lot better than you let on earlier, West.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I just needed to make up my mind about some things before I said yes. But I just spoke to him on the phone a little bit ago and accepted.”

  He held out his hand across the table. “That's fantastic, West. Congratulations.”

  We shook hands. “Thank you. And thank you for mentioning the tryout in the first place. If you hadn't seen it, I never would've gone.”

  He waved me off. “Please. Watching you play will be thanks enough.”

  “That's wonderful, West,” Mrs. Sellers said, smiling behind her husband. “We're very happy for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So what the hell are you two gonna do then?” Annika asked, plopping down in the other chair and sticking her feet up on the glass coffee table. “It's like a six hour drive over here through all that sand.”

  I looked at Abby and squeezed her hand.

  She brushed the hair away from her face. “Well, I have some news, too.”

  “You're going to learn to play baseball?” Annika asked, smirking at her sister.

  Abby continued to ignore her and looked at her parents. “I'm going to go to school here, too.”

  They both looked at her, confused looks on their faces.

  “In the fall,” she continued. “West talked to the coach. He's assured us that he can speed up the process to get me in for the fall here. It apparently helps when your boyfriend can hit the ball, like, four hundred yards.”

  I laughed, but her parents did not.

  “This fall?” her dad asked. “So...the end of the summer?”

  Abby nodded. “Yeah. And I mean, I know this wasn't the plan. But I kinda blew up the plan last fall, didn't I?”

  “They're going to give you a scholarship, too?” Annika asked, disbelieving. “That's ridiculous.”

  “No,” Abby said, frowning at her. “No scholarship. But he says as long as my grades are fine, he can get me through the admissions process right now. And my grades are fine.”

  “Well that's not fair,” Annika said. “That's total bullshit.”

  “Annika,” Mr. Sellers said. “Watch your mouth.”

  She rolled her eyes and continued to scowl.

  “Did he give you tuition costs?” Mr. Sellers asked, turning his attention back t
o Abby. “I mean, you're a California resident. I'd assume there are out of state costs.”

  It was an odd question to ask right at that moment. It was a fair question, but it just struck me as odd that of all of the things he could've asked Abby, that was what he asked.

  Abby must've thought so, too, because she kind of squinted at him. “Well, no, Dad. We didn't talk about tuition. West called him to tell him he wasn't sure about taking the scholarship because we didn't want to be apart and the coach pretty much laughed at him and told him if all it was going to take was getting me in here, that it was a done deal.” She paused. “I didn't think to ask him how much it cost.”

  He leaned back in the chair, a concerned expression settling on his face. He no longer seemed worried about having eaten too much.

  Mrs. Sellers put her hand on her husband's shoulder. “Well, I think it's wonderful. For both of you.”

  Mr. Sellers shifted and looked up at her. “You do?”

  She patted his shoulder, but looked at Abby and me. “I do. I think it's great that you can play baseball and get your degree and if this is where Abby wants to go to school, I think it's a wonderful opportunity. For both of you.”

 

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