Extra Innings

by Michelle Lynn

  So, I deserted Ainsley in a roomful of people she didn’t know because it was easier to fake my happiness than admit to my sadness.

  “Did you have fun?” Ainsley asks, next to me in my truck.

  It’s the first time either one of us has spoken since we entered.

  “Yeah.” I nod, turning down the volume on the speakers.

  “You seem kind of partied out, so maybe we can plan something this weekend?” she asks.

  The hesitancy in her voice pisses me off, especially since my actions caused it.

  “I have to go home this weekend. Spend the day with the family.”

  “Oh.” She nods, her eyes looking out the window.

  I pull the truck into her driveway, leaving it idling. Her hand hovers over the door handle. I don’t stop her.

  “Brax,” she says.

  I turn my attention to her.

  She shakes her head and springs the door open, stepping down from my truck. The door shuts. Not a slam, but there’s a finality to it just the same.

  I roll down my window. “No kiss?” I ask, smiling over to her.

  She studies me for a minute. Then, she steps up onto my footboard and grips the side of my truck.

  Her lips press to mine, and I slide my hand to the back of her neck to keep her lips on mine. Her taste is everything I want to remember right now. Everything that feels right in my life.

  “I’m sorry. Birthdays aren’t good for me,” I murmur.

  She nods. “It’s okay. I do want to do something for you though. Maybe next week?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Push her far away from you. You’re quicksand, and pretty soon, she won’t be able to breathe when she’s around you.

  She smiles, and I almost feel like that trio hug at the training facility didn’t happen. That she didn’t witness my weak side.

  “Okay then.” She steps down from my truck.

  I want to bury myself in her tonight. Push this sadness away with the happiness only she can bring me.

  “Okay.” I smile.

  Her lips turn up.

  What the hell happened to fun?

  What did you think was going to happen when you sought her out?

  “Bye.” She waves her hand.

  I watch her walk up the stoop, to her back door, and through the door without a glance back to me.

  I park my truck in my driveway even though I’d rather be anywhere but here. When I walk through that door without Ainsley, Ella is going to be on my ass.

  The house is dark though, and I don’t see Crosby’s truck, so maybe they’ve opted to spend the night at her place.

  I climb out of my truck and walk up my sidewalk, my eyes staring at the dark house.

  Alone.

  Fuck me.

  “Hey, Brax,” a flirtatious soft voice calls out to me from across the street.

  I check behind me to find Tori. She lives in the swimming house, diagonal from us. We’ve hooked up a few times but not since last year.

  “Hey, Tori. How’s the season?”

  She must have just gotten back from the pool because her hair is wet and piled on top of her head. “You okay?”

  I look at her body. She’s got the typical swimmer’s body. Toned, fit, and silky smooth. Her yoga pants are tight, and although she has a sweatshirt on, the outline of her tits is clearly on display.

  “I’m good.”

  “Well, if you want to be cheered up, you know where to find me.” She tilts her head in a come-and-get-me move.

  “See you, Tori.”

  We each walk up to our respective houses.

  I insert my key, flick on the light, and sit on the couch. Then, I think of what things would have been like if that accident hadn’t happened.

  Where the hell is everybody? We should be celebrating my birthday. Going to bars and getting me drunk, so I forget. It’d be so much easier to deal with this day in a hazy blur.

  A knock hits the door.

  “Come in,” I say, not really caring who it is as long as the silence stops suffocating me.

  The door opens, and Tori peeks in. She smiles, her sweatshirt now zipped open to show her sports bra.

  “I took my chances.” She shuts the door and stands with her back to it, the doorknob still in her hand.

  “Tori—”

  “I bet I can cheer you up. It’s not like you to be so down.”

  She crosses the room, sauntering to me, and I watch her perfectly curved hips.

  “I can’t.” I shake my head.

  Ainsley. Ainsley. Ainsley

  “Come on, Brax! We’ve always had fun.” She stands in front of me, and she’s one leg lift away from straddling me.

  “I’m with someone.”

  “Obviously, she doesn’t make you happy.”

  Her one leg comes rising, but I place my hand on her thigh to stop it from falling down on the couch.

  “She makes me very happy. I’m just not sure I do the same for her.” My eyes veer down to my phone resting beside me.

  Nothing.

  “Then, I’ll gladly let you make me happy if that’s what’s got you down.” She presses her leg against my hand.

  The door swings open, and Ella’s standing there with her hands on her hips. Crosby is panting for a breath behind her, shaking his head.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” She crosses the room. “Out, Tori.” She points to the door.

  Due to their height difference, Tori looks down at Ella, but I’d bet my money on Ella right now.

  “Crosby, take care of your girl,” Tori sneers. She eyes me again with those fuck-me eyes.

  “Sorry, Tori. She’s right. Time to go,” Crosby reiterates Ella’s directions.

  Her foot goes back down to the floor. She crosses her arms and stares at Ella.

  “You’re a cockblock,” she says as she breezes by Ella. “Come over to my house, Brax. My roommates aren’t so strict.” She exaggerates an eye roll.

  “It’s not a cockblock when the guy doesn’t want you!” Ella follows her, and after Tori leaves, she slams the door shut. Then, her eyes pin to mine. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  She’s standing in front of me now with her hands on her hips. Crosby falls to the couch, his left hand playing with the remote.

  “Wrong with me?” I ask.

  “Where’s Ainsley?” She bends down, so I can only see her beady eyes drilling into me.

  “Home.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just stay out of it,” Crosby says. I look over to find his head leaning back on the couch. “If he wants to ruin it, why do you think he’ll listen to us?”

  I thought he was on my team. “Ruin?”

  “What was Tori doing here?” Ella asks.

  I glance to Crosby, who only raises his eyebrows.

  “I thought you were staying at your house?” I dodge her question.

  She huffs, shooting Crosby a smug look. “Of course you did. That’s why I told Crosby we were going to come back because I knew you’d single-handedly destroy what you have going on with Ainsley. You like her. I see it, Brax. You aren’t fooling me.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Keep acting indifferent. She didn’t even know it was your birthday. She knows nothing about you.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Ella tilts her head and crosses her arms over her chest. “What does she know? That you want to go pro? That you’re a business major? The length of your dick? Tell me, does she know anything that anyone else here on campus doesn’t?”

  “You’d better not know the length of his dick?” Crosby half-asks, half-says.

  Her vision shoots to him, and she shakes her head, like he’s a moron.

  “It’s fun, Ella. I get that you could never let loose before in college, but that’s what’s going on with Ainsley and me.” I stand up, making her back up from her interrogation.

  I walk to the kitchen, but she follows close behind me.

  “Ha! Whatev
er, Brax. I never let loose because I was dying of a broken heart. You think you’re the only one affected anymore? Just because Crosby returned doesn’t mean we don’t still hurt.”

  I crack open a beer and down half of it.

  “El.” Crosby joins her in the doorway.

  Usually, the three of us can deal with the past, but today is a rough day. A rough day that happens to be my birthday.

  “You think I want to spend my birthday like this? You think I want to blow it with Ainsley? Fuck, Ella!” I throw the bottle, and it smashes against the wall, glass fragments flying in every direction.

  “Stop self-destructing, Brax.” Ella steps into the kitchen. “I get that we each use a different method for healing, but Ainsley cares for you, and I know you care for her. You can either ruin it and never have anything meaningful or you can actually live your life. Noah and Kedsey aren’t coming back either way.”

  “I saw you today. You started crying. Why is it okay for you to have a bad day and not me?”

  “Because you’re not moving forward.” Crosby decides it’s his turn to add to this conversation.

  “Speaks the coward who ran.”

  Crosby winces, my insult cutting deep. “I’ll let that one slide.”

  His eyes warn me not to do it again. We sealed that wound in the fall.

  “Tell her.” Ella’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Let her in.”

  I stare down at a girl who bears as much pain as I do. Hell, I wasn’t even in the car.

  “I was a dick,” I murmur.

  “She’ll understand when you tell her.”

  I nod a few times. Maybe I should have gone to counseling like Ella or ran away like Crosby. Instead, I’ve always pretended like everything is fucking fantastic.

  “Do you really need me to steal your phone and text her myself?” Ella warns with her hip thrust out.

  She might be small, but I know not to mess with her; that’s for sure.

  “I don’t even know what I want with her.”

  “Sure you do.” Crosby pats me on the back with a smug look on his face.

  I pull my keys out of my pocket and walk out of the kitchen, but I turn around, stopping in the doorway. “Thanks, guys,” I say.

  They’re hugging each other now.

  “I have one more cupcake left.” Ella grabs it off the counter.

  I step into the room. Crosby grabs a candle and the lighter from the drawer.

  “Maybe we need to not ignore the fact but celebrate his life,” Crosby offers advice most likely received from his preacher father.

  Ella lights the candle, and we place the cupcake in the middle of the island, each of us surrounding it.

  We softly sing “Happy Birthday” as a tribute for our friend.

  “Happy birthday, Noah,” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.

  Then, the three of us blow out the candle at the same time.

  “I like to think he and Kedsey are celebrating,” Crosby says.

  We nod.

  “Yeah,” I mumble

  Ella slaps me on the back. “Go.”

  I look down, and she’s got an easy smile on her lips, telling me it’s time to start living.

  16

  Ainsley

  I pull open the freezer and grab my carton of ice cream. Oh, how I’ve missed it the last few weeks I’ve been with Brax.

  Cade is up in his room with the music blaring, Delaney is in the shower after coming home from the gym, and I have the living room to myself to watch Bravo and eat my ice cream. Dream night.

  I sit on the couch, pulling a blanket over my lap, and flip on the television when lights turn into the driveway. The big black truck drives past my window.

  “You have got to be shittin’ me.”

  I pull the blanket off my lap and run into the kitchen, but he’s already coming to the door.

  I open the freezer door and throw the carton and the spoon inside quickly.

  He knocks on the door. I look down at myself. Flannel pajama pants and a tank top with a sweatshirt. Perfect breakup outfit. Perfect heartbroken outfit. I should change, so I can have some respect for myself while he’s breaking my heart. Then again, I should be happy this one wants to tell me face-to-face.

  Screw it all to hell.

  I move through my kitchen and open the back door.

  His hands are in his jacket pockets, his eyes glued to mine. “I’m sorry,” he says, staring me right in the eye.

  The first thing that attracted me to Brax was his honesty. The fact that he said what he wanted and didn’t give a shit about the repercussions. Not that he hurt anyone’s feelings. Brax isn’t a bully. He’s a god, the king-of-prom type of guy. But he tells you how it is, and I appreciate that.

  “You don’t owe me an apology.”

  “Can I come in?” He nods his head into the house.

  He steps forward, but I’m blocking his way, the door only half-opened with my hand still on the doorknob.

  I step to the side, opening the door wider. “Sure.”

  He walks in and shuts the door behind him. “Is everyone home?” he asks.

  I move to the kitchen table, sliding a chair out. “Yes.”

  “Come with me.” He holds out his hand.

  “Brax, you owe me nothing.”

  “I owe you an explanation. If you don’t want to be with me after that, fine. I’ll bring you back here, and I’ll make sure you never see me again.” His hand remains outstretched.

  His hand looks so inviting, so warm and safe.

  “Okay.” I place my hand in his.

  His lips curve slightly upward. “Glad to see I haven’t lost all my sex appeal after being an asshole.”

  I laugh, soft but real.

  He leads me out to his truck, holding my hand as though he’s afraid to let go.

  He opens the door, and I climb up and sit down. He closes the door.

  All the movements are romantic and sweet; also, it’s nothing like Brax has been with me before.

  We drive for a few minutes, the low volume of the music the only thing filling the space of his truck. For a second, I wonder why I’m here, what he wants with me.

  Is he planning on breaking up with me? Telling me he’s some troubled guy that no one knows, and he believes I’m too good for him?

  Then, he pulls into the baseball stadium, and he parks the truck.

  “Come on.” His head swings ahead.

  We file out of the truck. Hand in hand, we enter the stadium that Brax somehow knows how to get into by sliding through a hole in the fence. It’s a quiet, cold night with clouds blocking any stars from shining down on us.

  Brax walks right to home plate. “I always wanted to be first base,” he says, bending down and picking up some of the dirt. It sifts through his fingers, and he stands back up.

  “Why weren’t you?” I ask.

  He walks over to the dugout, and I follow.

  “My friend Noah was a lefty.”

  He sits down, and I join him a few seats away.

  “What does that have to do with you not being first base?”

  He chuckles lightly. “Your brother plays, but you don’t know? Lefties get first base over a righty as long as they can handle the position. Plus, if we both wanted first base, how would we ever play together?” He rubs his hands down his jeans, and a light dusting of dirt coats the denim now.

  “I don’t follow the sport much. It’s always been Cade’s thing.”

  He nods. “Well, Noah was first, and Crosby was third. We needed someone to catch the balls.”

  “So, you grew up with Noah and Crosby?”

  I’m not stupid. I’ve already assumed Noah is one of the friends that Ella was referring to when she said they’d lost two friends in high school.

  “Yeah. Best friends since we were in third grade. We all had dreams of playing together in the majors.”

  He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, and my stomach clenches because I know he’s about to tell me t
he story.

  “Our school won state my senior year.”

  Or not.

  “Congratulations.”

  He shrugs. “Well, it was expected. We won my junior year, too. Between Crosby, Noah, and me, it was hard for teams to steal. We were good.” He looks over to me. “Not that I have an inflated ego.”

  “It’s not an inflated ego if you have the skills to back it up.”

  A smile tugs at his lips, and I so want to see the happy Brax.

  “After we got off the bus from winning state our senior year, Ella was there with her friend, Kedsey, to pick up Crosby and Noah. The four of them were always together, and I was the odd man out, being single.” He leans back.

  “You know, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

  He slides closer, and my heart picks up pace. It’s all going to come to a head right now. It will be decision time when it comes to us.

  “I have to tell you why I was the way I was today because, Ainsley, you mean something to me. I’m not promising anything, but I like you—a lot.”

  My stomach flutters from his words. Not that he’s cementing us in stone, but it is more than I ever got from the man who almost broke me.

  “I like you, too.”

  “I hope you still do after what I have to tell you.”

  I place my hand on his thigh and squeeze. “Nothing can change my feelings.”

  He nods fast a few times, almost as though he needs to convince himself.

  “They asked me to come with them, but they were heading up to Screw Hill, and I wanted to party. So, I declined, made some crude remark about being pussy-whipped, and jumped into my buddy’s truck. I went to a party, got drunk, and ended up passing out in a field. The next morning, when I woke up, there were fifty missed calls on my phone and ten messages from my mom.”

  He swallows hard, and I remain silent.

  I take his hand in mine and entwine our fingers.

  “There was an accident. Noah and Kedsey died, and Crosby and Ella were in the hospital. A night that was supposed to be one for the scrapbook that you look back on with a smile turned into a nightmare.”

  I tighten my grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. Everyone’s sorry. Crosby was a mess.” He turns to me. “He was driving.”