“I don’t recall any of that.”
“Probably because you were sketching in your damn notebook.” He nods toward the black leather-bound notebook I keep in my locker. “I swear when you’re buried in that thing, nothing else around you matters.”
I put on my socks and say, “I don’t want to forget anything.”
Lincoln doesn’t go into detail. He knows what I’m talking about. He played with me through the minors and understands my routine.
After every game I pitch, the first thing I do when I get back to my locker is take out my notebook, uncap my fountain pen, and I draw.
It almost sounds weird to say, but when pitching, it’s as if I retreat to a different world. I started to notice when I was in high school, the tunnel vision, the blackness that surrounded me, the vivid images that would pop in my head, leading me to forget about everything else around me besides the glove at the other end of sixty feet and six inches. It’s what helps me focus, what helps me block out the negative talk, and the three-sixty voices of the raucous crowd.
When I have my notebook in my lap, I draw everything. Everything I saw, everything that crossed my mind. I write down the stats for the game, and then I go back through my notes to decipher what helped me pitch one hell of a game, or what distracted me to the point of not being on my best game.
Today, it was a pair of green eyes that kept flashing through my head, over and over again. Followed by a compost bin, which made me laugh on the mound.
Kinsley was with me today, not just watching in the stadium, but with me in my mind. I’m not surprised. Some of my best games have images of her drawn in my notebook. My two-hitter today came from what was propelling me to my best.
Lincoln finishes getting dressed and says, “What are you going to do now?”
I spray some cologne on and say, “Kinsley’s here. Thought maybe she would want to go out or something.”
“Kinsley is here?” Lincoln asks. “Like moved in already?”
I nod. “She got here two nights ago.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “No wonder you’re in such a good mood.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, pocketing my phone.
“That girl always puts an extra pep in your step. She’s like the Maddox whisperer. You’re always in a good mood when she’s around or after you talk to her.”
I shrug, not thinking much about it. “She’s my best friend. It’s like coming home when I talk to her.”
Linc applies some deodorant and says, “Is she waiting for you outside the locker room?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I have to meet this girl.”
I pause and look at him. “Why?”
“Because, she’s important to you, which means she’s important to me.” He winks and for some reason, I get the feeling there’s more to this meeting. “From the look you’re giving me I can tell you’re worried. Afraid I might hit on her?”
“Yeah.”
He lets out a hearty laugh and pats my shoulder. “Ah, come on, I’m better than that.”
* * *
Most of the families have left by now. I feel bad making Kinsley wait so long, but I had to finish my drawings. I never leave the locker room until those are done.
So when I see her sitting on the ground, cross-legged, playing on her phone, guilt washes over me.
“Hey Kin.”
She glances up and plasters a huge smile on her face. Springing to her feet, she launches herself at me and I catch her in the air, her legs wrapping around my waist as she gives me a huge hug. “Oh my God, Maddox. You were amazing.” She pulls back and grips my cheeks. “I’m going to take all the credit and say it was the chocolate cake from last night.” She hops off me, and that’s when I take her all in.
Her legs are barely covered by a pair of cut-off jeans—which I’m sure she made herself from an old pair of jeans. She’s all about zero waste. She’s wearing the Rebels shirt I gave her with my name on the back but of course, she’s not wearing a goddamn bra, and she tied the shirt in the back, showing off her midriff and fucking stellar body. Her hair is wild with waves, parted to the side, and her eyes are highlighted with mascara, but that’s about it, leaving her natural beauty to shine.
She looks fucking amazing, and I don’t miss the way Lincoln takes her in either.
“Chocolate cake? How come I wasn’t invited?” Linc says, holding his hand out to Kinsley who takes it, gifting him with a beautiful smile.
“Lincoln, right?”
He nudges me with his elbow and says, “Your girl has done her homework.”
Heat spreads through my veins from hearing Linc refer to Kinsley as my girl. I know he doesn’t mean it in a sexual way, but still, it fills me with an uncomfortable warmth I’m confused by.
“It’s good to meet you,” Kinsley says. “Maddox has told me what an asshole you are.”
Fucking hell.
Lincoln throws his head back and laughs so loud that it vibrates off the walls. When he calms down, he looks me square in the eyes and says, “Dude, I might be in love.” He then turns to Kinsley and says, “Will you marry me?”
She makes a show of mulling it over. A tap to her chin, I thoughtful glance to the sky. “Would you mind if I google your salary first?”
“Hell, google away, baby.” Linc holds his arms out. “I’m all yours.”
“Coming on too strong,” I say, swatting Lincoln’s arms down.
Kinsley chuckles and then folds into my side, holding me around my waist. She pats my chest and says, “Don’t worry, Maddie, you’ll always be my number one, even if I marry your best guy friend.”
“Maddie?” Lincoln asks, a lift to his brow. How did I know he wouldn’t let that go?
“Kinsley is the only one allowed to call me that, and it’s because I don’t have the heart to tell her not to since she’s been calling me Maddie since we were five.”
“It’s true. I earned the nickname privileges from dealing with all his crap. And trust me when I say, the teenage years were rough.”
He pulls Kinsley by the hand and into his side, draping his arm over her shoulder while saying, “This is something I want to hear all about. We’re going out.”
And just like that, they walk away, joking and laughing, leaving me feeling pissed, and a whole lot uncomfortable with how buddy-buddy they already are.
* * *
“A round of tequila shots,” Kinsley says to the waitress who is totally eye-fucking Linc right now.
We chose a booth in the back of the bar, away from the crowd but thanks to Kinsley—and how hot she looks—we drew some attention from patrons and had to sign a few autographs and take pictures. We’re rarely bothered at Paddy’s, but a blonde showing off her midriff wearing no bra will frustrate your camouflage act.
Linc is sitting across from us and hasn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face since he met Kinsley, and I know it has nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with me.
I can practically see the words double date flashing in his eyes.
When the waitress goes to fill our order, Linc says, “Tell me every embarrassing story about Maddox you know.”
“There are just so many,” Kinsley says, leaning back in the booth. From under the table, I can see her cross her legs, her shorts riding incredibly high, almost as if they’re denim underwear.
“I’d keep your mouth shut if I were you,” I say, pulling my eyes from the small window of her legs that I have.
It’s not like I didn’t get a good enough fill when we were driving over here. I kept glancing at them the entire time Kinsley was berating me for driving such a detriment to the earth. I think that’s how she put it. Honestly, I can’t remember at this point.
Kinsley turns toward me, arms crossed over her chest. “Are you threatening me with my own embarrassing stories?”
“Yup.”
She motions to Linc. “I don’t even know the man, like I care.”
; “Yeah?” I raise both brows. “Okay.” I face Linc and say, “When she was in fifth grade, there was this boy she was obsessed with—”
Kinsley’s velvety soft hand covers my mouth quickly, causing me to chuckle against her palm. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Linc glances between the two of us, his smile only growing wider. Winking at me, Linc says, “Tell me later, dude.”
“I will.” I have no intention of doing so.
“Maddox,” Kinsley says sternly, poking me in the side. “Don’t you fucking dare unless you want me to tell your friend here about the bathroom story from middle school.”
Jesus Christ, that’s the last thing I want. And what I was most worried about resurfacing.
“Ooo, what’s the bathroom story from middle school?” Linc is nearly bouncing in his seat.
Kinsley and I stare each other down, warning in our eyes for one another. Finally, I break and say, “Nothing you need to worry about.”
From under her breath, I can hear Kinsley say, “That’s what I thought.”
Linc deflates in annoyance while the waitress brings our drinks.
Once we down the shots, Kinsley says, “So you guys met in the minors?”
“Yeah.” I twist my beer around. “Linc here was scared from being away from his moms, so I took him under my wing.”
Not even ashamed, Linc shrugs and says, “Guilty. I’m a mama’s boy. College was tough, minors were even harder.”
“Ah, that’s really sweet. Nothing to be ashamed of for missing your moms. I’m assuming you were drafted straight out of high school like Maddox?”
“Nope. Went to Brentwood, drafted after my junior year.”
“Oh, I’ve heard Brentwood is really nice.”
“It is, has a very family-type feel, so when I left, I felt thrown into a world I wasn’t used to.”
“Aw, well I’m so glad Maddox acted as your mother hen.”
“I did not act like a mother hen.”
“He even chewed up my food and spit it in my mouth for me,” Linc says.
“Wow.” Kinsley rests her hand on my thigh and faces me. “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. How did the rest of the guys take the image of you baby bird feeding your friend?”
“They lined up for their turn,” Linc answers before I can even open my mouth. “Maddox was chewing and spitting for hours that night as he took care of all of us.”
Sarcastically gushing, Kinsley wipes under her eyes. “You know, I always knew he had a kind heart under that dark exterior of his, but I hadn’t known he’d showed it to his teammates. I’m so proud of you, Maddie. Nourishing your teammates, what a wonderful contribution to the Rebels other than your throwing arm.”
I glance between the both of them. “Are you two done?”
“Pretty sure I could do this all night,” Linc answers, bringing his beer to his lips.
“You know I can spend hours on this,” Kinsley says with a smile.
Yeah, I do fucking know. She has no problem coming at me hard with her jokes and funnily enough, I enjoy it. She’s never tiptoed around me, never treated me differently even when I made it big. I’ve been the boy next door to her, the best friend, her Maddie. Fucking love it. Love her.
* * *
“Linc is so much fun. Thank you for letting me come out with you.” When I shut the door, Kinsley loops her arms around my waist and gives me a tight hug. My arms fall around her and I return the embrace, loving how she’s tall enough so I can rest my chin on the top of her head.
“You don’t have to thank me, Kin.”
“I know, but he’s your friend and all . . .”
“And you’re my best friend. If anything, I’d choose you over him.”
She leans back to look up at me. “You would?”
“Of course, I would,” I say, feeling the pinch between my brow from her surprise. “You’re my number one.”
Her sensual mouth spreads even wider when she smiles and then leans back into my embrace, squeezing tight.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy the peaceful moment with the girl who knows everything about me. My hand gently slides up and down her back, memorizing the curve of her spine and how it slopes out as it reaches the swell of her ass.
Before I’m ready to let go, Kinsley steps away and sighs. “You were awesome tonight, Maddie. Reminded me of all the times I sat on those cold metal bleachers in Woodland, watching you try to hit the ball off the tee you would place in different strike zones. I’m really impressed.”
“Those were good times.”
“For you. I froze my ass off.”
I smile, remembering looking over into the stands, seeing Kinsley wrapped up in multiple coats and blankets in the dead of winter, watching me pitch. She was there to support me, even if no one else was. Without exception. God, I’ve been lucky.
“You got smart though and started laying a blanket on the bench.”
“After a few frozen ass cheeks, you learn quickly.” She takes off her shoes and tosses them to the side in the entryway as well as her satchel.
I bend down and pick them up only to put them in the entryway closet.
Oblivious, she moves through the apartment. “Do you want some water? I’m getting myself a glass.”
“I’m good,” I answer, trying not to look at her ass when she reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet. Pushing my hand through my hair, I say, “I’m going to go to bed, and you should too. Big day tomorrow.”
Water in hand, she turns around, her face lit up with excitement. “I can’t wait. Tomorrow is the first day to make a change in this world.” She walks toward me and lightly places her hand on my chest. It’s an innocent touch on her end, something she’s done many times, but right now, with my veins buzzing with awareness, it causes my breath to catch. “You made this happen for me. Thank you, Maddox.” She reaches up and presses her soft lips to my cheek before heading into her small bathroom.
Hell . . .
I head back to my bedroom, feeling as though I’m dragging fifty pounds of baggage behind me—which I very well might be. I quickly get ready for the night and slip under the covers of my large bed, so large that I feel guilty that Kinsley’s sleeping in the other room . . . on Clyde.
I’m about to get up and tell her she can sleep in my bed—it’s big enough for two and we can keep our distance—when I hear the telltale sound of duct tape being torn off the roll.
Rip.
Jesus Christ.
Rip.
Knowing my girl and her determination, even if I did offer her my bed, she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. She’s bound and determined to show me how Clyde is still very much alive and living even though she’s taping together his dead carcass. Again.
Rip.
I shake my head and let out a large sigh before grabbing my phone and checking my messages. Three.
Yasmin: Why are you cancelling?
Katrina: Hey, are we getting together this week? I haven’t heard anything since you said rain check.
Tess: No problem. You know I’m here when you want to fuck.
I drag my hand over my face and place my phone down, alarm already set. I sent the girls texts this morning, telling them I was taking a break. It feels weird going on a fuck date when Kinsley is living with me. No other reason. I know she’d expect me to go, but, I don’t know . . . I think it would be disrespectful.
At least, that’s the reason I try to convince myself of.
Chapter Six
MADDOX
“Death. This is what death feels like.” Kinsley comes out of my bathroom, towel wrapped around her torso, her hair and makeup done. Even at that, her eyes are barely open and she’s moving like a zombie. “Who thinks going into work at eight thirty is an appropriate hour?”
She takes a seat next to me on the bed and leans into my side, her fresh soap smell of lavender and vanilla tickling my nose. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t sniffed her bars of soap a few tim
es since she moved in. She has three. Purple, green, and black. That’s all she has in my shower other than her razor that looks like it’s from the nineteen twenties. I asked her yesterday about her weird soap bars and she told me she had a face, body, and then a combo shampoo and conditioner bar. The razor, well . . . zero waste through a recycling program of course. How she doesn’t tear up her legs with the thing, I have no idea.
But I do know the reason why she smells so fucking good all the time, and it’s from the trio of soaps she has in my shower.
With my arm around her, I say, “Everyone thinks eight thirty is an appropriate time.” I kiss the side of her head and then stand, taking her hand in mine and helping her to stand. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast while you get dressed.”
“That’s sweet, but I’ll have one of my protein bars. I don’t want to be bloated going into work for the first time.” She gives my hand a squeeze and then heads for her suitcases. I walk out of my bedroom, giving her some privacy. I pour us both a cup of coffee and look at her pathetic bed. Once again, there’s a break in the springs and the mattress is deflated and falling through the bottom. What the hell is she doing at night that’s causing her to fall to the floor? Leaping horizontally in her sleep?
After a few minutes, she comes strolling out of the bedroom, and the moment my eyes land on her, I swear under my breath. It’s a simple olive-green dress with sleeves. The hem falls to just above her knees, and she’s paired it with some black flats. Simple, but stunning.
She looks up from where she’s picking a piece of lint off the skirt and catches me staring. Smiling, she does a little twirl and asks, “What do you think?”
Trying not to swallow my tongue, I say, “You, uh . . . you look great, babe.”
“Thank you.” She walks up to me and takes the cup of coffee from my hand. “I packed clothes to change into in case they want me to get down and dirty the first day. Got to be prepared.”
The Change Up Page 5
