It Was Me (11 page)

TWENTY

“Come with you?” Abby's voice was flooded with disbelief.

I nodded. “Coach said it was no problem. There wouldn't be a scholarship or anything but they can get you in. No admissions process, no waiting. Boom, you're with me. Just like that.”

She was sitting cross-legged on the couch next to me, running a comb through her wet hair. Her face was scrubbed clean and she smelled like peaches and coconut and I had the urge to devour her. Again.

“Arizona.” She smiled. “Never in a million years did I think I'd willingly move to Arizona.”

“Is that a yes?” I asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as I felt.

“I don't know,” she said. She pulled her hair to one side and pulled the comb through. “I mean, I don't know if my parents will pay for it. How much it costs. All that.”

“You can live with me,” I said quickly. “I can tell them I want an apartment, not a dorm. We can take all the same classes. My books are paid for so we can just share or something. I can get a job here—I'll find something, anything—to help with food and tuition.”

She laughed. “Slow down. It's not like my parents are destitute. I just mean I'll have to run it by them. See if they're on board, you know?”

I nodded. I knew what she meant. It wasn't like I was asking her to switch from Mesa, the local San Diego junior college to Grossmont, another JC. Moving to Arizona was a little bit of a big deal. And not just financially. I knew she'd grown up in San Diego, had never lived anywhere else. And moving to Tucson would also mean moving further away from Tana, her best friend. Even though Tana was holed up in San Luis, a few hours up the coast, it was still a relatively easy drive for a weekend visit from San Diego. But from Tucson? Not so much.

“And if you don't want to, it's okay,” I said. I rubbed her thigh. She'd shaved and her skin was soft and smooth, covered in scented lotion. “But it's an option.”

She just smiled in response. I knew what she was thinking. I might be spinning it as an option but she knew better—it was the only option if I wanted to play ball. Because I wasn't going to Arizona without her.

I felt like an asshole for putting that on her. I didn't want everything to fall on Abby but I'd already told her that I wasn't leaving her. Now, with Coach Childs telling me we could be together at Arizona, I'd made my part of the decision. I was in if she was in. But I couldn't make up her mind for her.

She set the comb down on the coffee table and gathered her hair in her hands, piling it on top of her head. “I want to be with you,” she said finally.

My heart swelled and I nodded. “Me, too.”

“And if it means we go to Arizona or Detroit or wherever, I'm in.” She smiled. “I just want to be with you.”

The sound of voices approached and I knew her parents and sister had returned from lunch. Abby reached for my hand and squeezed.

“Just think,” she said, grinning. “There's absolutely an added bonus of coming to school in Arizona.”

I raised my eyebrow. “What's that?”

Her smile widened just as the front door opened. “No Annika.”

I laughed. She was right about that.

Annika raised an eyebrow from behind the massive black sunglasses on her face. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing,” Abby said, giving me a look that served as warning to not get into it with her.

I dutifully kept my mouth closed.

She dropped her massive straw purse on the table and laid her sunglasses on top of it. Her parents came in behind her, Mr. Sellers with one hand over his stomach.

He collapsed into the chair across from us. “I ate too much.”

“I thought you were going to the salad place?” Abby asked.

“The all-you-can-eat salad place,” her mother said, standing behind the chair and shaking her head. “And your father ate all he could eat.”

“And then some,” he said, tilting his head back.

Abby's mother stared at her for a moment, then smiled. “You certainly look all...smiley.”

“Me?” Abby said.

Her mother nodded.

Abby glanced at me, then back at her mother. “West has some news.”

“Learn to spell a new word?” Annika asked, emerging from the kitchen, a bottle of water in her hand.

“Tell them,” Abby said, ignoring her sister.

I laced my fingers with hers and looked first at her mom, then her dad. “Arizona offered me a full scholarship.”

“Holy crap!” her dad exclaimed. “Are you kidding?”

“No, not at all,” I said. “The coach I met with this morning is offering me a full scholarship to go to school here and play ball.”

He leaned forward in the chair. “Well, I'd say your meeting with him went a hell of a lot better than you let on earlier, West.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I just needed to make up my mind about some things before I said yes. But I just spoke to him on the phone a little bit ago and accepted.”

He held out his hand across the table. “That's fantastic, West. Congratulations.”

We shook hands. “Thank you. And thank you for mentioning the tryout in the first place. If you hadn't seen it, I never would've gone.”

He waved me off. “Please. Watching you play will be thanks enough.”

“That's wonderful, West,” Mrs. Sellers said, smiling behind her husband. “We're very happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“So what the hell are you two gonna do then?” Annika asked, plopping down in the other chair and sticking her feet up on the glass coffee table. “It's like a six hour drive over here through all that sand.”

I looked at Abby and squeezed her hand.

She brushed the hair away from her face. “Well, I have some news, too.”

“You're going to learn to play baseball?” Annika asked, smirking at her sister.

Abby continued to ignore her and looked at her parents. “I'm going to go to school here, too.”

They both looked at her, confused looks on their faces.

“In the fall,” she continued. “West talked to the coach. He's assured us that he can speed up the process to get me in for the fall here. It apparently helps when your boyfriend can hit the ball, like, four hundred yards.”

I laughed, but her parents did not.

“This fall?” her dad asked. “So...the end of the summer?”

Abby nodded. “Yeah. And I mean, I know this wasn't the plan. But I kinda blew up the plan last fall, didn't I?”

“They're going to give you a scholarship, too?” Annika asked, disbelieving. “That's ridiculous.”

“No,” Abby said, frowning at her. “No scholarship. But he says as long as my grades are fine, he can get me through the admissions process right now. And my grades are fine.”

“Well that's not fair,” Annika said. “That's total bullshit.”

“Annika,” Mr. Sellers said. “Watch your mouth.”

She rolled her eyes and continued to scowl.

“Did he give you tuition costs?” Mr. Sellers asked, turning his attention back to Abby. “I mean, you're a California resident. I'd assume there are out of state costs.”

It was an odd question to ask right at that moment. It was a fair question, but it just struck me as odd that of all of the things he could've asked Abby, that was what he asked.

Abby must've thought so, too, because she kind of squinted at him. “Well, no, Dad. We didn't talk about tuition. West called him to tell him he wasn't sure about taking the scholarship because we didn't want to be apart and the coach pretty much laughed at him and told him if all it was going to take was getting me in here, that it was a done deal.” She paused. “I didn't think to ask him how much it cost.”

He leaned back in the chair, a concerned expression settling on his face. He no longer seemed worried about having eaten too much.

Mrs. Sellers put her hand on her husband's shoulder. “Well, I think it's wonderful. For both of you.”

Mr. Sellers shifted and looked up at her. “You do?”

She patted his shoulder, but looked at Abby and me. “I do. I think it's great that you can play baseball and get your degree and if this is where Abby wants to go to school, I think it's a wonderful opportunity. For both of you.”

Abby squeezed my hand. “I do.”

“You haven't even seen the school,” Annika groused.

“I'll see it before we leave,” Abby said. “But I'm sure it will be great.”

“What about the pro offers?” Mr. Sellers asked, looking at me again. “Did you talk to any of those scouts?”

“No, sir,” I said. “I didn't. I don't know what the future holds for me. I don't know if it means playing professionally or not. But I've always wanted to play in college. If I can play and get my degree at the same time, it seems like a better choice than making a thousand bucks a month and riding buses in the minors.”

And that was the truth. I had thought about it. I didn't want to be making pennies and eating fast food and grinding through some minor league season in someplace where I didn't know anyone or what was going to happen the next day. I'd call the scouts back and let them know, but I knew that going to college was a better decision for me. I'd probably known that before I'd gone to the tryout and that was why I'd put up so much resistance to going to it. I knew the statistics. Most guys didn't make the majors. I was realistic. I probably wouldn't, either. And I didn't want to be one of those guys that washed out in a couple of years with no plan and nothing to fall back on. Going to school would still give me the chance to play at the next level, but it would also give me some stability and plan for a future without baseball.

Mr. Sellers nodded, but I could tell he was distracted.

And I thought I knew why.

“I'll take care of her,” I said. “I promise. This isn't going to be some stupid thing where she comes to school over here and we break up.” I shook my head. “Abby and I are a team. If anything goes wrong with the admissions or if Coach Childs is wrong or whatever, then I'm not coming.”

“Oh, God. I'm gonna vomit,” Annika said.

“West,” Abby said.

“No, I'm serious,” I said, glancing at her, then back at her father. “I was going to say no until Coach Childs said he could arrange for her admission at Arizona. I wasn't leveraging. I meant it. I'm not going anywhere without her.” I paused. “I want to be with Abby.”

Abby's hand crushed mine, her fingers clenching mine.

Mrs. Seller's eyes softened and she smiled, nodding her head.

Mr. Sellers forced a smile. “I know, West. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I have no doubt of your intentions, but I appreciate you saying those things. I know Abby will be in good hands with you.” He hesitated for a moment and the smile evaporated. “It's just that...”

“It's just that he will miss his daughter,” Mrs. Sellers interjected, patting his shoulder again. “But we'll all be fine. It will all work out.”

He again turned and looked up at his wife.

She smiled back at him. “It will all work out.”

TWENTY ONE

Abby did, in fact, think the school was great.

We spent the rest of the week in Tucson talking less about baseball and more about school. We spent a couple of mornings on the campus, one with Coach Childs, as he made good on his word and put together the necessary paperwork for both of us, and then another morning by ourselves, just walking the campus, ducking in and out of buildings and getting a feel for the place. We both agreed. It felt like a place we could settle into easily.

We'd stayed up late one night, searching the Internet to look at the classes the school offered and we both saw more than enough things we were interested in. Abby also grabbed several apartment guides from a grocery store and we drove by some of the places that were close to campus, spotting one in particular that we both liked. We bought stuff in the bookstore—a sweatshirt for her and a T-shirt for me—and by the end of the week when it was time to head back to San Diego, it seemed like fate that we were supposed to end up there.

Her mom continued to be supportive while we were there, asking us about classes and what the baseball schedule would be like. She seemed genuinely happy.

Mr. Sellers, on the other hand, seemed...distant. There were no more questions about baseball. There were very few questions at all, really. He'd gone quiet and stayed that way. When his wife prodded him into saying something, he smiled and agreed with whatever she wanted him to agree with, then went back to thinking about whatever was on his mind.

Annika was Annika. There were several snide remarks about how Abby needed special help to get into college and about how we'd probably hate living in the heat. But even her best attempts at getting under my skin failed.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like it was all coming together in a way that I wanted it to come together.

“What are you smiling about?” Abby asked, walking into the room.

I had my bag on the bed and was folding my clothes, packing them up. “Nothing.”

“It can't be the six hour long drive back with my parents,” she said. “Maybe it's because my sister already bailed?”

My smile grew. Annika had taken off earlier that day. Since she'd driven herself out to Tucson, we were going to be deprived the pleasure of her presence on the way back to San Diego. She'd left as soon as she'd woken up.

“Or maybe,” Abby said, coming up behind me. “It's because we can spend some time at your apartment tonight.” Her hand snaked around my shorts and slid between my legs.

I took a deep breath, felt myself rise against her hand. “Crossed my mind.”

She squeezed me gently and I groaned.

“Just crossed your mind?” she asked. “That's it? I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm.”

I pivoted so I was facing her. I grabbed her hips and pulled her in tight to me so she could feel exactly what she'd done to me. I held her there with one hand and slipped one beneath her tank top, finding her tit and squeezing it.

“How's that?” I whispered in her ear.

“Mmmm,” was all she could managed.

I dropped my hand from her top and slid it inside the waistband of her shorts. She tried to back up but I cupped her ass with my other hand and held her in place. I brushed my fingers over her satin panties.

“Am I enthusiastic now?” I whispered.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She nodded.

I found the edge of her panties, slipped my fingers beneath the fabric and pushed them inside of her. She gasped and her nails dug into my shoulder as my fingers explored the heat between her legs.

“How about now?” I whispered.

She wiggled her hips, pushing herself onto my fingers. “It's going to be a long ride home.”

I chuckled and nipped at her ear. “We could try to be real fast right now and...”

“Hey, Abby!” her mother called from the living room. “Do you have my visor?”

We backed off from one another as fast as if she'd walked into the room.

Abby ran a hand through her hair, smiled at me and shook her head. “Yeah, Mom! I've got it in my bag.”

“Ok. Just checking.”

I stood there for a moment, grinning at her, letting her see the bulge in my shorts.

“Not fair,” she whispered.

“You started it,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “It will be a long ride home.”

She took a deep breath, pursed her lips. “Straight to your place. As soon as we get home.”

I grinned at her. “Can't wait.”

We finished packing our clothes, letting our desire for one another abate as we made sure we had everything before taking our bags into the living room. Her dad was stretched out on the couch.

“Taking your mother an hour to pack,” he muttered. “Like usual.”

“I heard that,” she called from their bedroom.

I set our bags near the front door. Abby took one chair and I took the other.

“I'd like to stay another week,” Mr. Sellers grumbled, folding his hands across his stomach and closing his eyes.

“You're usually itching to go back,” Abby said.

“Yeah, well, not this year,” he said, keeping his eyes closed. “I'd just like to...stick around a while longer.”

“Me, too,” Mrs. Sellers said, emerging from the bedroom. She set her bags down near the couch. “Not ready to go back.”

Mr. Sellers looked up at her and smiled.

“You know you guys are your own bosses, right?” Abby asked, making a face at them. “You know you can take a vacation whenever you'd like, right?”

Mrs. Sellers sat down on the arm of the couch. “It's not always that easy, Abby.”

Mr. Sellers reached up and grabbed his wife's hand. She smiled at him.

“Well, it's not like we won't come back,” Abby said. “We come back every year. We've been doing it for, like, forever.”

Something passed through Mr. Sellers expression. It was very quick and I wasn't able to make out what it was, but I did see a tiny grimace crease his face before he let it pass on.

“And, hello?” Abby continued, widening her eyes at her parents. “I'll be living over here in just a couple of months. You can come over all the time and visit.”

Mrs. Sellers smiled at her. “That's a very good point.”

Mr. Sellers didn't say anything, his eyes cast downward in thought.

“So you'll be back soon enough,” Abby said. “We'll all be back.”

Mr. Sellers leaned his back against the sofa, his eyes now focused on the ceiling. “Things are changing. Just might be a little...different.”

“What does that mean?” Abby asked.

Mrs. Sellers looked at her husband for a moment before turning her gaze on her daughter. “He just means that you guys are getting older and you might not always want to go on vacation with your parents.” She looked at her husband again. “Right?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah.”

There was something in his response that made me think that wasn't exactly what he'd originally meant. It wasn't that he disagreed with what she was saying, but that maybe there was a little more going on than he was letting on.

He pushed himself off the sofa, his entire body moving all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the electric chair. “We should get going.”

“Dad,” Abby said.

He turned to her. “Yeah?”

“We'll be back,” Abby said. “Family vacations here are our tradition. We'll all be back.”

He smiled at her, but I could see doubt in his expression.

“I know, kid,” he said. “I know.”