Rounding Third (3 page)

M
y body is so
responsive to Ella’s presence. I forgot how much she affected my normal rhythm. My breathing is staggered, my heart is thumping, and my palms are sweating. The same perfume is intoxicating me, as I stagger to put one foot in front of the other.

“Why are you here, Crosby?” Ella’s voice pulls me back to our conversation. A conversation I’ve prepared myself for.

“They offered me a spot on the team. Third base.” I shove my hands in my pockets to stop the urge to grab hers.

“So, you took over Mike’s spot? I knew they brought someone in, but no one told me a name.”

“What do you mean?”

“I help out the team physician as an internship. This is my first year.”

“Oh.” I wish jealousy wasn’t my first reaction at hearing that she’s around the guys all the time. It’s a reminder that she’s not mine. The thought of her with sweaty, horny baseball players doesn’t slow my wildly beating heart.

“I’m pre-med.”

I nod, assured that nothing kept her from pursuing her dream.

The sound of chirping crickets ring around us, and every fourth step, her shoulder brushes my arm, igniting a hot current to run through my veins. After two years, I never assumed the instinct to reach for her hand or splay my hand on her lower back would burn strong.

“Crosby, why are you here?”

“I told you, I got a spot.”

“You knew I was here.” She stops walking, and her eyes squarely pierce me. “We made an agreement that we’d move on with our lives.”

Wetness pools in her eyes, and I imagine she’s thinking back to the worst night of our lives. Well, second worst.

“I want my life back. This was my chance to play in Division One with the hopes of being drafted. ”

“And what exactly did you expect would happen between us?”

A tear slips down her cheek, and I reach out to wipe it away. She backs up a step, but my palm remains planted on her cheek as I match her back step. Her skin is as silky soft as I remember.

“I have a boyfriend. My life is more than you now, Crosby.” Her voice is etched with anger.

I’m not sure what I expected her reaction to be. It’s the reason I was hell-bent on Brax not letting her come to the party tonight. I wasn’t ready to see her yet. Not without a plan.

"I’m not sure." I clear my throat. "You having a boyfriend kind of crushed that dream."

"What did you think? That you’d show up with me curled in the fetal position, crying and waiting for your return?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“No. All I ever want for you is to be happy, El. I’m just conceited enough to know that I’m your happy.”

She scowls.

“Don’t deflect with the humor.”

“Are you sure you aren’t a psychology major?”

She huffs, and swivels on her feet to leave.

I reach out to her, grabbing her arm. The need to have her in my life again burning too strong, I relent on the topic of us as a couple.

“Friends?”

“Friends?” she questions, knowing there’s no way for us to be just friends. Anyone within a twenty-mile radius can feel our energy.

“Get to know each other again,” I clarify.

She tilts her head to the side, raising her eyebrows. “You forget I’ve known you since you were five. Those devilish eyes still show when you have something up your sleeve.”

She points to me, and I try to taper down my smile from remembering us together. We were good.

“Nothing.” I hold up my hands. “I swear”—I make a cross on my chest—“friends.”

She stares at me for a few beats longer than normal, and I hold her eyes, hoping she sees the ache my body endures for her. If I’m correct and I can still read her like a compass, I take up a big part of her heart as well.

She blinks, and I assume our moment is over, but she rushes into my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. Sobs begin racking her body, and it dawns on me that she’s been putting up a front. Our connection is too powerful to ever fizzle.

“Shh…” I mumble, my hand rubbing along her back.

Her body nuzzled into mine transports me back to the good times. The way her head easily fits under my chin, giving me easy access to kiss the top of her head.

“I feared I’d never see you again. I’d heard rumors, but I figured no one really knew where you were,” she says quietly.

My head lifts unconsciously, my lips about to press on the soft, citrus scented strands of her hair, but I fall short when she steps back.

Wiping the dark streaks of mascara smearing down her cheeks. “Look at you.” Her hand reaches over and touches my bicep. “You’re healthy, and strong.”

The first smile breaks her lips, and my whole body heats with want.

“You look good, too. Beautiful.”

She shakes her head, dismissing my compliment.

Stepping closer, I press on, “Gorgeous.”

She steps back, and I follow, unable to grant any distance between us.

Just when she’s within a fingertip’s grasp, she plants her hand on my chest. “No, Crosby.”

I freeze, refusing to move away. “Friends.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have released my emotions, but seeing you after all this time…so much has happened in my life, as I’m sure, in yours, too. I’m with Liam, and just because you’ve floated back into town doesn’t mean I’m going to break up with him.”

“I’d never expect you to,” I lie because that’s exactly what I expect.

Then again, seeing her has thrown the little amount of self-esteem I had coming here, back to Millcreek. Naively, I believed we’d have a long talk and be good to go. Now, it’s evident that our rekindling won’t be that simple. She’s the only girl in my future, but if she needs to go slow, we will. As long as she knows, one day in the near future, she’ll be mine.

She narrows her eyes.

“Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers.

“You weren’t a Boy Scout.”

“True.” I shrug. “But I admire them and would never use their oath in vain.”

She shoves me in the shoulder, like she used to do. “You’re doing that whole humor deflecting thing again.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Bullshit.”

She starts walking back toward the house, and I want to beg her to stay outside, to talk things out. Maybe dump her boyfriend.

“I have to find Jen.”

“Jen seems like someone who can handle herself,” I remark.

She spins around, fury swimming in those blue eyes. “Crosby, you’ve had how long to prepare yourself for seeing me?” Her eyes turn to pleading.

“Two months,” I deadpan, suddenly feeling as small as a mouse with a cat looming overhead.

“I had no time. Not even one second. So, please”—she steps forward, pressing her palm right below my heart, only spurring a repeating video in my mind when her delicate hand would cover my heart—“give me a little bit of time. We need to talk, but please, I’m begging you, give me some space.”

“I think you’re convincing yourself more than me.” The right side of my lips turn up.

Her soft eyes flip back to anger. “Don’t, Crosby. I’m asking nicely. Do not do it.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly what. Let me process this. My mind is like a hurricane. Every wave is crashing to shore with another damn thought or question drowning me before I process the first one. I need to work this out.”

I want to scream that there’s nothing to work out. I’m back, and we both know we love each other. I don’t see the problem.

“Okay,” I relent.

She doesn’t give me another heart melting smile. Instead, she turns on her heels and heads for the house.

I jog a few steps to catch up. “I said, okay. I’ll give you some time. We can be friends.”

She stops right before the stairs to the house, and her eyes pin on me. “Okay.” Uneasiness now pierces her eyes, but she’s going to let the topic rest. She turns back around, climbing up the steps. “Now…to find Jen.” Her voice sounding exhausted.

“Hey, Third Base, I had no idea you
knew
Ella Keaton, too!” a guy screams out.

I have no idea which shitty second-string player it was. The cockiness in his voice has me suspecting that he knows Ella on a way too personal level. A level I’m not comfortable with. A level that will result in me kicking his ass to the next block.

She stops to look to her right and beelines it right to the culprit. Before I can come back with a reply, she pushes the guy back, making him falter to the edge of the porch. He grips the top railing with fear in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” she says through clenched teeth. She pushes him over the edge and into the hedge.

The guys around him laugh. Seemingly happy with herself, Ella turns around, whizzes by me, and walks into the house.

The music is thumping louder than earlier. Brax is sprawled out on the couch with his hands up the same blonde’s shirt. Oliver is watching two girls giving him a lap dance. I haven’t met our shortstop yet. For all I know, he’s one of these other guys. I look around to all the carefree college kids. My teammates are treated like rock stars. An array of girls, ready and willing, lingers on every wall, waiting for their turn. This is a wet dream for most guys. I wanted this once upon a time—until I lived a life without Ella.

As though we can read each other’s thoughts, she turns around, and our eyes lock. For a moment, we’re back there—at a high school party, the prom king and queen, the envy of our classmates. We were the couple who would make it and prove statistics wrong.

“I can’t find her.” She heads to Brax and kicks him in the shin.

He ignores her, swatting his hand at her before it ventures down the blonde’s waistline.

“Brax!” she screams.

He slides his face to the side, allowing the blonde to mark his skin like a damn vampire.

“I’m busy, El.” His head tips back, and his eyes close briefly from the pleasure he’s experiencing.

“Where’s Jen?”

“How the hell should I know? Check the bedrooms.”

The blonde claims his lips again, and he swiftly flips her over to her back.

Conversation over.

“Seriously, go upstairs. No one needs to see you grinding,” Ella remarks. She peeks back at me before I can process the flush of her cheeks, she’s jogging up the stairs.

“Why don’t you stay, and we can spend some more time together?” I argue, following her.

Her eyes glance over her shoulder, giving me a look that says,
Not if I were the last living person in a zombie-invading movie
. “I need to get home.”

“Where is that?” I ask, continuing to trail her from door to door as she knocks and jiggles each doorknob.

“Nice try.” She gives me a condescending smile and moves to door number three—my room. It squeaks open, and she stops for a second in the doorway. Her hand covers the doorknob, her body stiffening like a statue.

“Go ahead,” I urge her, walking up so my front meets her back.

Her shoulders slump, but she proceeds forward. I follow her in and shut the door behind me.

“This is your room,” she states as a fact. “Still organized.” She smiles over her shoulder at me.

“Military preacher son. Stopped fighting it.” I lean against my desk, crossing my arms over my chest. I love having her in my space.

“Do you mind?” She moves toward a collage of pictures on my corkboard.

“Not at all.” I wait for her to look over Spence and my parents until she finds herself.

“Crosby…” Her voice breaks, and her hand moves to brush on the picture taken after Beltline won state our senior year. She had just jumped in my arms, and we’re smiling at one another. My best memory in two years. It was stuffed away in a box from when we moved from Beltline until my dad found it.

She turns around, and the wetness in her eyes grips my heart. My stomach churns because I’m to blame for her misery. She should be happy and smiling every minute of every day. That’s the Ella I remember, not this one where my mere existence in her life saddens her natural glow.

“We were quite the couple,” I say.

But she remains quiet.

“Where’s Spencer?” she asks, changing the subject.

“He’s here. Another reason I came to Ridgemont. To be near him.”

Her eyes widen, and a genuine smile fills her face. “I can’t wait to see him.”

Spencer and Ella had an odd connection. In high school, Spencer was quiet and reserved. He and Ella formed a friendship through video games, which made me mad with jealousy because she’d spend her time with him when she came over.

“Ariel is here, too.”

My mouth drops open.

“All four of us are at the same university? Who would have thought?”

She nods. “I helped Mom and Dad move her in today.”

“Where?”

She sits down on the bed, and I’m enjoying this easy conversation. There are no expectations or hurt from the past lurking in our words.

“Musselman Hall. It’s in the small group area of campus. A cluster of dorms for freshmen.”

“You have to be shitting me! Spencer’s there, on the second floor.” I slide my desk chair out and sit down.

“Would they even recognize each other? I mean, they ran in different circles back then.”

“I’m not sure.” I fail to divulge that Spencer has loved Ariel for as long as I’ve loved Ella.

The room grows silent, and I wish I’d never agreed to separate from each other. I haven’t healed from that accident any better without her.

“What’s your major?” she asks, picking up an econ book from my nightstand. She thumbs through it like the subject interests her.

“Business. Finance,” I say.

She nods, continuing to check out the book. “Economics interests you?” She shuts the book and places it back on the nightstand. “It’s weird, you know? I feel comfortable around you, but at the same time, I don’t. Like…”

“Like being among your personal things in a foreign place?” It’s how I felt after I moved to Colorado.

“More like, I’m in my home among someone else’s things.” Her eyes scan the room, looking at my baseball posters and the Millcreek Junior College flag. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

I pick up the baseball from my desk and toss it back and forth in my hands, needing something to do before I rush over to the bed and beg her to be mine again.