Rounding Third

by Michelle Lynn

  A few softened faces turn my way.

  “This town lost a lot that night. A great ballplayer, a fun-spirited girl. Together, they were a couple who were what small-town fantasies are about. It also lost the safety and security it’d possessed. I hope tonight is successful in restoring that, and this town is able to move forward with the memory of Noah and Kedsey as more than tragic deaths. Thank you for listening to me.”

  He hands the microphone over to the girl but then hastily pulls it back his way. “Oh, and, Ella Keaton?”

  All eyes turn to me.

  “Thanks for taking over Noah’s job and for convincing me that I’m worth more than I believe I am. I love you.”

  I blow him a kiss. The tears cascade down my cheeks, and my mom rests a Kleenex on my shoulder.

  He releases the microphone.

  While the girl is composing herself, Brax meets Crosby halfway and swings his arm around Crosby’s shoulders, pulling him in to whisper something in his ear.

  Mr. and Mrs. Brentwood stand up from their seats and begin to clap. Slowly, a few more pop up, and before Brax and Crosby reach Coach Weathers, the majority of the people in the stands are clapping for Crosby.

  The high school student is finally able to sing the national anthem, and the crowd quiets, waiting for the game to start.

  “Excuse me? Ella Keaton?” A boy no more than eleven years old leans over Jen from the aisle.

  “Yes?”

  All eyes move back my way.

  He pulls out a box from behind his back. “Your favorite player asked me to deliver this to you.” He practically drops it in my lap and disappears up the steps.

  “Thank you!” I yell.

  “Speedy,” Jen remarks. She helps me hold the brown box.

  I glance around, feeling my mom’s breath hitting the back of my neck. All eyes are on me in this moment. I slowly open it and peek in, hiding the contents from everyone else until I catch sight that it’s not something X-rated.

  Flipping the lid completely off, I laugh. I pull the sweatshirt out of the box, and everyone around me aahs.

  There’s a white note pinned to the hood’s strings. Wear me.

  I strip off my Ridgemont sweatshirt and replace it with my new Ridgemont Baseball sweatshirt, embroidered with I Belong to Number Twenty-Two on the back.

  “He’s so sweet,” Ariel says.

  My hand clasps over my heart, and I swoon along with her.

  My mom’s asking me questions, and Jen’s taking pictures with my phone when someone lets out a loud whistle. Each of us stops and searches out where it came from.

  Crosby’s propped up on the railing, and he’s waving me over.

  I slide by Jen and run down the steps.

  My lips immediately find his.

  “I take it, you like?” he asks.

  “You take it right.”

  “I know you said you’d share, but I think you deserve your own.” He pulls out a sharable size bag of Skittles from his pocket and hands it over to me.

  My arms wrap around his head, and my head dips under his hat to kiss him again.

  He slows the kiss, and his lips maneuver to my ear. “Tonight, I want to see you in only the sweatshirt.”

  “Done,” I whisper back. “I’ll sprinkle myself with Skittles, too.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Lynch, get your ass down here!” Coach Lipton screams.

  We break apart.

  “Miss Keaton,” Coach acknowledges me.

  “Hi, Coach.” I wave my hand.

  “I’d better go. Meet me at the usual spot.” Crosby briefly kisses me and jumps down from the railing.

  “Always.”

  Minutes later, the Beltline Stadium is quiet except the crackling of the announcer’s microphone.

  “Now, first up to bat, is Beltline’s very own, Crosby Lynch,” he says and the crowd claps.

  For the rest of the night, I am blessed to watch my favorite ballplayer play on his favorite field with his favorite fans—the town of Beltline.

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  Turn the page for a sneak peek to another one of Michelle’s books, Love Surfaced, a brother’s best friend story.

  Love Surfaced Sneak Peek

  “Piper.” He hesitates before joining me down on the cement stoop. I question why he even searched me out, although it’s been his M.O. lately. Popping up wherever I am. He places his arm across my shoulders and pulls me into him, which only brings a ripple of warmth to the pit of my stomach. “Come here.” My head burrows in his strong chest and his hand soothingly roams up and down my back. I sink into him, the tension in my shoulders of placing fifth in my swim meet slowly releases with the comfort of his arms.

  Refusing to let him make my mind race with his confusing affection, I sit up. Swiping the tears from my eyes, I honestly confess, “Tanner, it was my last shot.” He begins to shake his head, but I interrupt him, “No, I have to realize it, my dream of swimming in the Olympics is over.” I rise to my feet, and the heaviness in my chest sinks back into place now that I’m out of his embrace.

  He follows me over to the oak tree, coming up behind me, and my pulse races into overdrive when his hot breathe tickles my neck. My body’s response only reminds me how bad I want him. Why does he keep leading me on? He continues to only toe the line between friendship and more, but never actually steps over it. Each time his hand brushes mine, or his eyes search me out, my heart stops beating for a moment, hoping this is it—until he crushes the fluttering butterflies and steps away. I close my eyes from the view of Michigan University’s football stadium because I need to calm my insides. “Why are you here?” He should be with my twin brother, preparing for their own meet. “You should be in warm-ups.” His hands land on my shoulders and he leans down, causing a tingling to spread across my body at our connection.

  “I saw you leaving the pool house,” his voice cracks and I hear his deep intake of breath.

  “That’s not what I’m asking, Tanner.” When I turn around, I almost collapse when I’m face to face with this gorgeous guy. Absolutely, one hundred percent, the perfect male. My perfect male. His brown hair is tucked away in his MU hat flipped backwards, his lips and cheeks are rosy from the early spring chill in the air. With only a sweatshirt and track pants on, he’s the epitome of a college student. His good looks remind me of the unbearable yearning that pulls me toward him.

  His eyes are so transparent, I can see the torment of his inner turmoil from our situation, meaning nothing has changed for him. He’s as conflicted as ever because I’m his best friend’s sister.

  “I don’t know.” His voice is soft, caressed with the sweetness he’s been with me the last few months. My stomach drops at his words. I want to grab his face with my hands and beg him to admit that the small seed of attraction has grown over the years and we can’t dodge around it any longer. But, I stand there, with my hands to my sides, silently pinning for the day he acknowledges our desire.

  “Then that’s a problem.” My heart thumps as I side step him and weave through the clumps of snow that have yet to melt from the harsh winter. I hate seeing his genuine smile falter with my words, but I can’t idly stand around while he messes with my head any longer.

  “Shit,” slurs out of my mouth as my foot misses the top step. I slide down the litter-covered staircase. Roars of laughter and murmurs of my name fade into background noise when I lock eyes on an emerald hue. “Tan—”

  Falling into Tanner’s waiting arms, he grips me tight, and my eyes close as I smell the musky scent of his cologne. I’d never admit how many times I’ve taken a sample of the exact brand from the department store just so I could relive the moments when we’ve been this close.

  “Thanks,” I mumble into his damp charcoal T-shirt.

  The sweat is proof he’s been here for a while, and I half-wonder if he searche
d for me. My silly schoolgirl crush surfaces, wishing he felt the same as me.

  “I’ll always catch you.”

  His promise brings a flutter to my stomach.

  “I mean, your brother would kick my ass otherwise.”

  Then, my heart shrivels from his admission of consistently being there for me only to please my brother. When my head drops as I begin to pull away, his hand cradles my cheek, and he gently lifts my face up.

  “What’s wrong, Piper?”

  His concerned eyes searches mine, and I question my thoughts from seconds ago that he doesn’t have an interest in me as more than a friend.

  “Nothing.” I bite my lip, afraid I’ll crack from the way his green eyes cling to my brown. If I don’t tear them away soon, I’ll confess the lurking love I’ve hidden for years.

  A small smirk cracks his lips, and he shakes his head. “Okay.” He lets the fact that I’m lying go. “Well, let’s have some fun tonight then.”

  His hand leaves my cheek and travels down my arm until his long fingers link with mine. I hold back my squeal of excitement and follow his broad-shouldered frame between the throng of drunken college students.

  Tanner stops in the middle of the dance floor. Since I’ve never heard a song I didn’t shake my ass to, when my blood is filled with liquid courage, my hips swing, and my arms flail to the newest and hottest hip-hop song. I circle around, joining the blur of other bodies around me. Strong hands grip my waist, and I step into a hard chest. Leaning back, I bring one arm up to his neckline and Tanner’s light-brown strands of hair, tickle my fingers. His face nuzzles in the crook of my shoulder, and shivers run up my spine when I hear his deep inhale of breath.

  A small smile graces my lips as I realize the hands tightening around my curves belong to the unattainable guy I might never have long-term. I hope tonight will be different since we’ve both been drinking, and our desire for one another appears to be in line.

  The question is, can I handle only having a one-nighter with Tanner? Granted, it would be fun-filled, but nonetheless, it’d be over at dawn.

  I answer my question when he yanks me closer, bringing our bodies flush against one another, as he circles his hips behind me.

  The alcohol helps me toss my worries to the side. I decide to live in the moment, and lose myself in the music. The more Tanner’s lips brush along my neck, the faster warmth radiates throughout my body. The people dancing around us fade away, and for a second, it’s only him and me. I’m immersed in the boy who turned into a man in the time I’ve known him. His smell of manly cologne mixed with sweat emanates in the air, bringing a sense of euphoria around me. His soothing hands hold me firm to his developed muscled chest I’ve admired since adolescence. I welcome the sensory overload of Tanner McCain even if it’s only temporary.

  I swivel around, and our eyes connect. I wrap my arms around his neck, fiddling with the small waves along the back of his head. My heart skips a beat from the smoldering heat in his gaze tonight. Instead of his best friend’s twin sister that he grew up with, for once, I feel like a girl he wants to take home. A rush of heat pumps in my veins from the lust and desire pouring from his unwavering eyes. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never looked at me like he wanted to whisk me to a bedroom and have his way with me.

  In slow motion, our hands explore each other. His fingers inch under my shirt and rub along the bare skin of my back above the waistline of my jeans. From the shivers shooting up my spine, my back arches, and I push my breasts out as I lick my lips from his fingers touch.

  A sheen of determination crosses his vision, and I’m absolutely certain he’s going to kiss me. I lean in, my imagination already ramped up with the dream of his lips on mine. This will be our first real kiss, not counting the one when we were fourteen. It was a peck, if anything, but now, on this dance floor, he’s going to fulfill my dream.

  Tanner’s tongue snakes out of his mouth. He licks his lips, and I close my eyes, waiting for him to break the minute distance. The breeze of his breath chills the wetness on my lips, and my heart races. It’s coming…almost—

  “Tanner!” Brad screams.

  Screech to a damn halt.

  “Crap,” Tanner mumbles.

  His hands fly off my body as fast as a thief with a gun to their head. I slowly open my eyes, half-praying it wasn’t my brother’s voice booming through the crowd. My prayer goes unanswered when Tanner looks away, and his hand runs down his face. Guilt replaces his desire with the sound of Brad.

  Brad slaps Tanner on the back, and Tanner’s focus snaps up to meet my brother’s.

  “What’s up, man? Sorry I’m late. Taylor wanted—”

  “Ahem.” I purposely clear my throat.

  My brother notices me and then skeptically looks back to Tanner to assess the situation. Brad’s silent for a second, and my heart pounds until an easy smile breaks his lips.

  “Shit. Sorry, Piper.” Brad walks over and wraps me in a bear hug, lifting my feet off the ground.

  The worst part is, I can smell his new girlfriend, Taylor’s, perfume on him. I’m surprised he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet. One girl is not Brad’s style.

  Pushing him off me, I distance myself from the two men in my life. Thankfully, Brad doesn’t notice Tanner’s ping-pong eyes bouncing between us. He’s too self-absorbed while spouting off facts about Taylor in some nonchalant guy code. He acts like I couldn’t have a clue to what his innuendos mean. His sex life repulses me.

  “Excuse me you two.” I slide between them, hoping for one last brush against Tanner.

  What I don’t expect is for Tanner to sneak a hand out, grazing his finger along my lower back, as I pass by. Once I’m a safe distance from them, I can’t help but turn, and I notice Tanner’s classic smirk on his face while he admires me leaving. All of this is going on while my brother continues to ramble in his ear about how great Taylor is in bed.

  When I reach the kitchen, I see a few girls lingering around a table full of guys playing beer pong. Diverting my steps to the open area by the sink, I grab another red Solo cup and make myself a concoction from all the hard liquor strewed around. Mindlessly pouring a little bit of each one and dribbling some Coke in the cup, I become ignorant to my surroundings.

  “Hi, Piper. How are you?” I hear Taylor’s sweet Southern voice alongside me.

  I roll my eyes. This is what I hate the most—the part when girls try to kiss my ass because I’m Brad’s sister. Brad doesn’t usually see a girl more than once, much to my dismay and shame for the female species. Taylor though has held Brad’s attention longer than most, and I wish I could figure out why. She’s attractive, yes. She’s nice…for the most part. She’s a little too clingy…definitely.

  I can’t stand clingy girls, and from an early age, I swore I’d never be one. Being an outsider, watching girls lose their dignity by tossing their own interests and lives aside for Brad and Tanner, is to blame.

  Leaning against the countertop, I cross my arm across my chest and bring the cup to my lips with my other hand. “Taylor,” I respond like the chill bitch most think I am.

  “So, I heard you and Jake went out on a date.”

  This is her way of making small talk? A lame rumor about Jake Lincoln practically molesting me at a party? Someone referring to it as a date shows that the person obviously didn’t see how he accosted me.

  “You heard wrong.” I sip my drink, trying not to engage in more conversation. I’m not naive enough to think that she won’t switch the topic to Brad and ask me if he’s dating anyone else.

  “Well—” she steps closer to me and lowers her voice a smidge. “I just saw Jake on the porch, and he was asking about you. I think he really likes you.”

  “I think he likes my tits.”

  A nervous giggle escapes her while my face remains straight.

  “Oh, Piper.” She laughs.

  I watch her manicured nail on her right hand swipe at my shoulder. Seriously, I need to get myself out of this
predicament.

  “Nice talking to you, Taylor, but I gotta find Beatrice and jet out of here.” I push off the counter and notice her fake smile turn down at the corners.

  “Okay, Piper. Talk to you later,” she calls out to me after I’ve already escaped halfway across the kitchen.

  I raise my hand and wave it in the air while sipping my drink. Not completely paying attention, I bump into a body. When I peer up to see who it belongs to, I regret not staying with Taylor.

  “Piper,” Jake slurs, his hands reaching out for my hips.

  I smack his hands away with my free one, and his eyebrows furrow. I try to stifle my laugh while remembering his bugged out eyes in disbelief when he thrust his tongue into my mouth last weekend, and I bit down hard with my teeth. He was shocked that I didn’t want Jake Lincoln’s hands and mouth on me. He’s another football egomaniac. Michigan is full of them.

  I cross my arm around my chest, and his sight zeros in below my chin. When I glance down, I notice how I’m pushing my breasts up, giving him a clear shot of my cleavage.

  Quickly unhooking my arms, I gulp another sip of my drink. “Jake.”

  I attempt to pass him and his gang, but Jake sidesteps.

  “Funny. Let me get through.” I try the easygoing approach.

  I place my cutthroat façade in place, but the Neanderthals don’t care.

  “Piper, I thought we kind of had something going.” His one finger twirls my strands of hair.

  I smack his hand again, but this time, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he swaggers closer into my space, and I suffocate in the smell of pot embedded in his clothes.

  “Wrong.”

  “Wrong?” he questions.

  Judging how sloped his eyelids are, I’m surprised he recalls my name.

  “Yeah, fucking wrong,” the deep male voice of my savior rings out.

  I suck my lips in to refrain a smile.

  Jake twists around and releases a big, empty laugh. “Should have known Tanner McCain wouldn’t be too far away from Piper Ashby.”

  He faces me, and I give a cocky shrug of my shoulders, secretly thankful that Tanner is here to rescue me.