Rounding Third

by Michelle Lynn

  “Nope, just wants it off.”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts. I get my phone armed and ready to enter.

  “She’s pretty cool, huh?” he asks, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

  “The coolest.”

  “You didn’t make out with Kendra today, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe, one day, you can tell me how you push all this pussy away.”

  I don’t answer because he’s not searching for pointers. Some guys aren’t capable of committing.

  “You got that number?”

  “Yeah.” He rattles off the number, and I type it in my phone.

  “Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner,” I say.

  Before I leave, he calls out, “Hey.”

  He stands from his desk and breaks the distance, holding his hand out to me. I shake it.

  “Congratulations. You win.”

  Shit, I forgot all about the bet. “The room is only a bonus.”

  “Yeah, I figured. You still have to keep her until Christmas.” He raises one eyebrow in a challenge.

  “Done deal. She can’t leave me.” My ego is getting ahead of itself.

  “Go.” He waves me to the door.

  I shut his door and immediately dial Kendra.

  “Crosby!” she screams.

  A screeching round of girls behind her also scream. What the fuck?

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “You programmed your number in, baby. Don’t you remember?”

  “Um, no, I didn’t. Listen, I need the picture to be taken down.” I close my door and sit at my desk.

  “Why? I thought it was a good way of telling everyone that we’re dating.”

  Did I suddenly get cast in the new version of Psycho?

  “Um, we’re not dating. I’m dating Ella.”

  “Crosby,” she whines.

  I start playing with a pen on my desk. “Kendra, I apologize if I gave you a false pretense of what we were, but we didn’t do anything, and that picture implies we did.”

  “That would be the point, silly.”

  The tone in her voice and her inability to actually have a conversation about real events, tells me she’s sitting in the room of sorority girls, armed with their phones to spread the lying gossip.

  “Listen”—my voice turns stern—“nothing happened, and I’ll make that clear if you don’t. Unless you want me to embarrass you through Instagram, Snapchat, and any other social media, you’ll delete the picture. I’m with Ella, and that’s the end.”

  Nice and to the point.

  “No, that’s not the end.”

  I hear a door close on her end.

  “You can’t go around and embarrass me like that. Everyone heard Ella’s screams, and I had to answer questions about what happened between us. I refuse to be tossed aside for some plain Jane. I’m Kendra Quentin.”

  Oh, shit, call the ward. I have a mental case on my hands.

  “I said I was sorry. Now, grow up, Kendra, and delete the picture.”

  “You should see all the girls looking up to me now that I scored with the new third baseman,” she continues.

  My patience is about dead.

  “Either delete it, or I’ll comment how nice it is for a girl to prefer the au naturel look. Beaver Kendra has a good ring, yeah?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  A long pause of silence commences, and if it wasn’t for her seething breaths, I’d think she’d hung up.

  “Fine. I’ll delete it.”

  Finally, she’s back with the sane people.

  “While I’m on the phone. I want to see it disappear from my Instagram account.”

  I put her on speaker and pull up Instagram.

  “Ugh, I really don’t understand why you are slumming it with her. She’s cute and all, but she’s not me. You know how much my daddy paid for these perfect tits?”

  “Well, don’t be ashamed to admit you’re not authentic.”

  The picture disappears.

  “Done. Happy now?”

  “Extremely. This is my warning, Kendra. Don’t fuck with my life, and Ella is my life.”

  “Whatever. You’ll be back for seconds.”

  “I never took firsts,” I say to myself into the silence since she hung up on me.

  Relieved that the picture is off, I say screw my calculus work and go downstairs where there’s obviously a party going on.

  Salsa music plays from Saucey’s Bluetooth speaker, and he’s dancing with Jen close to his body. His leg is weaved between her legs as she grinds it. Once she dips back and he places his lips right between her breasts, I jog the rest of the way out of the living room and move into the kitchen.

  “I swear, those two,” I say. I stop in my tracks.

  Ella’s hair is pulled up into a bun, and she keeps twirling her ankle as she’s bent over the counter, looking at her phone. She glances up at me, smiling immediately, and a comfortableness washes over me, like we’ve been back together for years instead of two hours.

  “She’s worthless.” She shakes her head and moves back down to her phone. “I see she’s removed the photo.”

  No sign of reaction. How about some respect for my miracle work?

  “Yeah”—I round the counter of the island, coming up behind her—“I worked my magic.”

  “Uh-huh,” she says, her thumb swiping the screen on the phone.

  She’s oblivious to my clear erection poking through her yoga pants.

  Winding my hands around her sides, I move up until I have her tits firmly in my hands.

  Her phone drops to the counter.

  “Is that what it takes to get your attention?”

  “I’m playing hard to get.” She stands, her hand moving back and landing on my neck.

  My lips meet the tender skin under her hairline, a spot I remember would drive her crazy back in high school.

  “Mmm,” she mumbles.

  The small sounds of her pleasure spur my hands to venture further. My right hand snakes down the front of her pants. Her back melts into me, and I nip at her skin.

  “Tonight, you’re sleeping in my bed with me. I’m going to show you all the sex scenes I’ve beaten off to for the past two years. It’s always been you, El,” I whisper.

  A tortured moan rumbles out of her mouth.

  “Jesus. Is this the way it’s going to be for the next two weeks?” Brax rolls his eyes and walks over to the fridge. Grabbing a beer, he pops off the cap and leans against the counter.

  “Mind?” I say.

  Ella twists out of my hold, and my hand is ripped away from her wet, warm, and inviting pussy.

  “Not at all. I’ll join in if you want.” He props up onto the counter, downing another sip of his beer.

  “No small cocks, but thanks for inquiring,” Ella says.

  I crack up, pointing my finger at him.

  He picks up a roll from the counter and throws it at me. “Crosby knows the size of my cock, and believe me, sweetheart, it isn’t small.”

  He winks, and Ella shoots him her classic ew look.

  “It is true then? You compare your dicks in the shower?” Ella pulls out a tray of mostaccioli from the oven and places it on the stove.

  “Come on, Ella. I get you don’t want Crosby to be upset, but he deserves to know the truth.” He jumps down from the counter, his footsteps growing closer to her. “Tell him my dick is bigger.”

  He kisses her cheek, and she circles to move away.

  “Fuck you.” I take the roll he threw at me and nail him in the forehead.

  He starts to laugh, and Ella shakes her head, adding more sauce to the pasta. She sprinkles cheese on it and places it back in the oven.

  “Man, you used to be easier to get a rise out of. You’d have fallen for that during our senior year, for sure,” Brax says, opening the fridge. Pulling a beer out, he slides it across the island.

  “Yeah
, probably. I trust my girl.” I wink over to her, and she smiles before leaning against the counter.

  “It’s official. Those screams in the quarry mean you’re together again?” He takes the seat on the stool by the island.

  Again, Ella and I share a look.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  Ella’s face flushes.

  “Is this, like, undercover from Beltline? Because my mom called me this morning to ask a million questions about Crosby’s return and if I’ve seen him with Ella.”

  “Jesus,” Ella says. “I hate and love that town in one breath.”

  She walks over to me, and instantly, she cuddles in my arms.

  “Ella made a deal with her dad.”

  She stares up at me, cringing.

  “But I’m going to go down next Sunday to talk to him. Clear it all up.”

  Brax raises his eyebrows.

  “You have my number for when he puts you in the hospital. I can be your next of kin if you’d like.”

  “Shut up. Mr. Keaton is a very understanding man.” I look down at Ella, and her lips barely curl into a smile.

  “If I were you, I’d do it somewhere public and out of Beltline.” He leaves the kitchen.

  Ella’s arms tighten around my stomach.

  Brax knows more about that town and Mr. Keaton than I do, but Mr. Keaton still wants what is best for his daughter, and I need to remind him that the best is me.

  Having two girls living with you sure changes the dynamic of a house. Ella’s the caregiver, and Jen’s the eye candy. Well, to the other guys. I’ll carve their eyes out if they look at Ella, she’s only my eye candy.

  They all decide to watch the new Rocky movie, and Ella seems just as happy to go along with that pact. Me, not so much.

  She’s standing by the couch, and she’s about to sit down, but I bend down, forcing her over my shoulder.

  “I take it Creed isn’t your thing!” Jen hollers.

  “Not tonight it isn’t,” I say.

  Ella smacks my butt. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m whisking you away.” I smack her butt back.

  “Ouch!” she yells, her two hands feverishly trying to accomplish some sort of return sting to my flesh.

  “They’re constantly touching,” Jen says.

  Brax laughs. “This is nothing. Just wait,” he says.

  I dispose Ella in my room and shut the door, flicking the lock. Whoever the genius was who put opposite locks on the shared bathroom door should win a Nobel Peace Prize because the last thing I want in this moment is for Brax to bust his ass in here, ruining a night I’ve waited two years for.

  Once we’re effectively locked in the room, I look over at an uneasy Ella. She’s scooted up to my headboard with her legs bent up into her chest, her arms locking them into place. Her eyes are unreadable, but they definitely aren’t saying, Come take me however you want me, Crosby. More like a scared virgin who knows this process will be painful but wants to be rid of it. I saw that look from her once when she was sixteen, and I won’t ever enter her with that deer-in-the-headlights look again.

  “El?” I ask, sitting at the edge of the bed. “You want to watch Creed?”

  “No.” A weight lifts from my shoulders, realizing that I wasn’t that far off the mark by carrying her up here. “But?”

  “My parents. I promised them, Cros.”

  My heart breaks as I watch the despair in her eyes. I stand and pace the floor. I grab my baseball from my desk, tossing it in my hands.

  “Do you regret this afternoon? Have I moved too fast?” I limit my questions to two, holding the others for another time.

  “No.”

  I stop my feet and stare over at her. Her legs are down, and her arms are at her sides.

  “I want to be with you, Crosby. When I made that deal, it was because I wanted Ariel to have a simple life. After the accident, her life changed, too.”

  “I know.” My hand threads through my dark hair because that one night impacted more lives than on paper. If only I could reverse time, we’d have left five minutes later and been late for Kedsey’s mom.

  “My parents’ faces when they found out you were back…it was like I’d announced I was dropping out of college because I was pregnant. All that guilt from before rose in me, and suddenly, I was making a deal that I knew I had no chance of fulfilling.”

  “You want me?” I ask, taking my seat next to her on the bed.

  My hand cups her cheek, and she leans into me.

  “Since I was fifteen.”

  Our eyes lock, and a slow smile creeps up her lips.

  “But we met at six.”

  She huffs, and I chuckle, my eyes never leaving hers.

  This is the point in a movie when the romance music is cued, and we kiss until the screen goes black.

  But Ella and I have a story that isn’t easy to wrap up.

  I’ll have to talk to her dad, figure out a way for him to accept me in her life. That’s only our first hurdle.

  “Answer me one question, El.”

  Her blue eyes that bear more honesty than I’ve ever felt deserving of look up at me.

  “How far are you willing to take this?”

  “Are you asking me if I’d throw away my whole life for you?”

  I nod, and her eyes veer away.

  Not a good sign.

  “If your family doesn’t approve—” I start, but her finger gently touches my lips.

  “Yes. If my parents don’t agree and if Beltline can’t accept you, I’ll leave them behind.”

  My heart leaps out of my chest. She loves me the same amount as I love her.

  “I promise I’ll do everything to make sure that doesn’t happen. I never want you to sacrifice to love me.”

  Her hands press on my thighs. “I’m by your side, no matter what.”

  “I love you.” I lean forward and kiss her nose.

  She inhales a deep breath, releasing it as I pull her into my body.

  “You’ll always be safe with me,” I tell her.

  She nods.

  Damn, why didn’t I fight harder for us years ago?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ella

  “He’s going to talk to Dad?” Ariel asks as we find a table in the Student Center.

  I follow Ariel to the table with my coffee and bagel. “Yeah. I’m scared.”

  “I don’t know why you ever made that lame deal anyway. I’m a big girl, El.” Ariel sits across from me, instantly adding more sugar to her already sweetened coffee.

  “I’m not sure why I did it either. Being back home makes my and Crosby’s hope for a future unattainable. I guess I figured one of us would get what we want. Those small-minded people will stop at nothing until he’s burned at the cross on top of Cherry Blossom Hill.” I sip my coffee and fiddle with my phone, checking all my social media accounts.

  “I don’t know if everyone feels that way.”

  My eyes whip up to hers, and she shrugs, sinking herself into her shoulders.

  “What? They drove his family out of town, Ariel.”

  “They got scared. Our town was mourning, but they might be different now.”

  “Um, did you not hear me when I said that, at Bishop’s, X said he wanted to talk to Crosby. X’s the one who ratted that Crosby was here.” Aggravation grates on me that my sister doesn’t see what I do.

  “X was friends with Crosby.”

  “Exactly, and if he was ready to turn his back on Crosby, then what must the others in that town want to do?”

  She leans back, bringing her coffee to her lips. “You need to go with him when he talks to Dad.”

  “Look at these gorgeous girls.” Spencer approaches the table, a Gatorade in his hand.

  “Hey,” I say.

  He bends down to give Ariel a kiss and takes the seat next to her. “Don’t be too welcoming there, El,” he says, gulping down a sizable swallow of his orange Gatorade.

  “Sorry,” I murmur. I take another s
ip of my coffee.

  “Crosby’s going to talk to Dad this weekend.” Ariel fills him in, and his body transforms from relaxed to tense.

  See? This man understands where I’m coming from.

  “He’s going back to Beltline?” The uneasiness in his voice isn’t missed.

  My eyes reach his, sadness matching in both.

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  “Man, I knew he loved you, but to put himself through that again…”

  I close my eyes, and my fists clench under the table. I’ve never felt defeated over a future with him. This town, my family—I need all the negativity to be washed away. The weight of that town is like a hammer, and I’m the nail. Every hit inches me a little further into the wood. Pretty soon, I’ll be buried.

  “I know.”

  Spencer grabs Ariel’s hand over the table at the exact time I receive a text message from a foreign number.

  It’s a picture of Crosby, shirtless, showing the scars on his back.

  Haven’t you caused him enough pain?

  “What is it, El?” Ariel grabs the phone as it slips from my hands. She gasps. “Oh my God.”

  Spencer peers over her shoulder, seeing the text. “Who is that from?” he asks.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I’m going to find out.” He whips out his own phone, dials it up, and calls. “Hey, who is this?” He listens for a minute. “I’m Spencer Lynch. I’m looking for Crosby,” he lies.

  Whoever is on the other line decides to talk to him.

  “Why did you send Ella this picture?”

  I’m in shock that this person is willing to answer his questions.

  Ariel and I lean in closer.

  “Uh-huh.” He nods toward the door.

  I turn to find Crosby starting to enter with two girls practically at his heels. He smiles, and his politeness only pisses me off.

  Disregarding my celebrity boyfriend, I turn my attention to Spencer. “Who was it?” I ask.

  He hands me my phone and looks over at Ariel.

  “Spencer!” I yell.

  “Some girl. She said she’s friends with Crosby. That she got your number from his phone when he was in the shower at her apartment.”

  My head whips to Crosby, who is now stopped in front of the coffee place. The girl touches his arm, and he doesn’t pull away. She drops her money, and he goes to pick it up, leaving the girls with a perfect view of his ass. He stands, and they giggle. She presses her tits into him, and again, he doesn’t step away.