Play Hard (Make the Play #2) (6 page)

I’ve loved baseball since I was a kid. Mom has often joked that I was born with a baseball in my hand. And while that’s not exactly true, it’s close. Most of the pictures of me when I was a toddler, I’m holding some kind of ball. From a young age, it was obvious that I was good at sports. I played multiple sports when I was a kid, including basketball and soccer. But it was baseball that stole my heart. And there was nothing I loved more than being on the mound; nothing I loved more than pitching. It wasn’t that I was bad at hitting. It was that I was better at throwing. That became apparent early on. I’ve always had great aim and a lot of strength behind my throws. But more than that, I have composure. I know how to remain cool and collected even in the face of ridicule, trash talk, or anxiety. I don’t get rattled easily. It gives me an edge. It gives me an advantage.

The baseball field is the place I feel most like me. It’s the place that I feel in control. That I feel like I belong. It’s my home away from home. And the guys on the team are my family. Even the ones I don’t like too much. I mean, every family has its black sheep, right?

But the person I’m most connected to on the field is Christian. He’s my partner, my wingman. The person I count on. The person who’s got my back. He and I have been a team since we were little kids.

I throw the ball to him, and his glove closes around it. With a smile, he tosses it back. I threw it hard. Harder than I had been lately. I could feel it. And the grin he flashes me betrays that he felt it too.

As much as things have changed between us off the field, out here we are exactly the same as always. And I revel in the comfort of that. Cocking my arm, I release the ball again. Christian doesn’t even have to move. My location is so on, he only has to open his glove and the ball slides right in.

Christian throws the ball back and then crouches down into position. We throw for a few more minutes while Coach works with some of the other guys. Then Coach calls us over for some last-minute instructions before tomorrow’s game. Afterward, we head back to the dugout to grab our stuff.

When we reach it, Christian nudges me in the shoulder. “So, you ever gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Taylor?”

“What makes you think there’s something to tell?” I’m stalling. It’s not like I’ll lie to Chris. I’m just not sure what to say. So far everything with Taylor has been a whirlwind. I’m not even entirely sure I know what’s going on with us. Or if anything is.

“C’mon.” He narrows his eyes. “Everyone saw you talking to her this morning. Then at lunch you couldn’t even focus. It was obvious you were looking for her.”

I furrow my brows. Yeah, it was weird. I did look for Taylor the entire lunch period, and I couldn’t find her. As hard as I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, it did. My mind entertained all the reasons she might be absent. And I worried that maybe she was right about her aunt and uncle sending her away. It shouldn’t matter to me. I don’t even know her. We’ve only had a few conversations.

However, I know that’s not exactly the truth. I mean, yeah, technically we’ve only had a few conversations, but what we have is more than that. We connected. It may have only been a moment, but I felt it. The connection with Taylor was the most significant connection I’ve ever felt with a girl before. It was the strongest connection I’ve ever felt with any person other than my family or the team.

I can’t really describe it. Hell, I don’t even understand it. And honestly, it scares me a little. How can I feel this strongly about someone I hardly know? Someone who could be gone tomorrow? Someone who yesterday wanted absolutely nothing to do with me? And, quite frankly, she may feel the same way about me now for all I know.

This whole thing is crazy, and so out of character for me.

Yet I don’t know how to make these feelings go away. I don’t know how to stop thinking about her, how to stop wanting her.

I reach forward, zipping open my bag and dropping my glove inside. Then I turn to Christian, deciding to tell him the whole story.
What have I got to lose?
  “I sorta ran into her last night in front of your mom’s shop.” Glancing around the dugout and field, I make sure the other guys aren’t eavesdropping. Most of them are having their own conversations. A few have left. Mostly I look for Josh. When I spot him leaving with Chase and Nolan, my shoulders relax. He’s the only guy I have to worry about anyway. I trust everyone else. “I went there to drop off---”

“The manuscript,” Christian finishes for me. “Yeah, I know. My mom’s been talking about it nonstop. I think she’s almost done reading it.”

My lips edge upward. “She was pretty excited about it. I think because it reminds her of…” I clamp my mouth shut when Christian’s eyes darken. “Never mind.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s all right, man. I know it reminds her of Dan.” His voice is tight when he says Dan’s name, but he doesn’t seem as angry as he usually does when Dan is mentioned.

“Still tough for you, huh?” It’s a risk. Asking Chris about his feelings is like walking up on a sleeping grizzly bear. One wrong move and you might awake the beast.

He shrugs. “I’m dealing.”

It’s all I’m getting out of him, so I move on. “Well, when I left your mom’s shop, Taylor was right outside. She looked terrified, like something had scared the hell out of her.” Chris leans toward me, his forehead knitting together.

“See ya later, Cal.” Hayes nods in our direction. “Chris.”

“Yeah. Later,” I call out, giving him a wave.

Chris waves as well and then turns his attention back to me. “And?” He encourages me to continue.

Swallowing hard, my gaze shifts around. Only Palmer and Aaron are left. Even so, I lower my voice. I trust them, but I’m not sure I want the word to spread about this. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything. Mostly because if Taylor’s still in town, I don’t want to scare her off. “And then she just walked up and grabbed me and demanded that I kiss her.”

He punches me in the shoulder. “Dude.”

I chuckle.

“I mean, I know you’re used to girls throwing themselves at you, but this has got to be some kind of record.” He smiles. “Was she drunk?”

The chuckle dies on my lips. “No, she wasn’t drunk.”

“What was the deal? Don’t tell me she just couldn’t resist your charm,” he teases.

“What’s going on over here?” Palmer ambles over to us, bat bag slung over his shoulder. Aaron’s at his heels. “You two sound like a couple of chicks.”

I bristle at his statement, then realize he’s probably right. Chris and I don’t normally hang out after practice whispering to each other. I puff out my chest. Man, Taylor’s turning me into a gossipy girl. Even worse, she’s turning me into my sister.
Yuck
. I snatch up my bag. “We were strategizing about the game tomorrow. What are you two slackers doing?”

Palmer smiles. “We don’t need to strategize. We’re gonna kick ass tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah,” I agree.

Chris grabs his equipment. We say goodbye to Palmer and Aaron and then head out of the dugout. The sky is darkening, the air cooling down. Our feet pound on the pavement as we make our way to our cars.

“Did you do it?” Chris asks.

“Do what?”

He narrows his eyes in an irritated expression. “Kiss the new girl.”

I grin. “What do you think?”

Letting out a light laugh, he slaps me on the back. “How was it?”

Pausing, I try to formulate the right words. Then I shrug, realizing it doesn’t matter. Chris thinks she kissed me because she wanted to, but that’s not why. Kissing me was nothing more than a means to an end. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a real kiss.” I attempt to sound more casual about it than I actually am.

“What do you mean?”

A part of me is regretting sharing this with him, but it’s too late to stop now. “You heard about her ex, right?”

“The guy who was looking for her last night?” He asks. We reach my car, and I lean my back against it. “Heard he was pretty bad ass.”

I frown. “Eh, we could take him.”

“You saw him?” Chris’s eyes widen.

“Yeah.” I nod. “She kissed me to hide from him.”

“Oh.” He throws me an apologetic look.

But I shrug it off. “No biggie. A kiss is a kiss, you know?”

I expect him to smile, chuckle, maybe fist bump me. But instead his face grows serious. It makes my stomach knot. What is he thinking? “It wasn’t just a kiss, though, was it?”

“Huh?” Chris isn’t exactly the philosophical type.

“You like her, man. I can tell.”

“So what if I do?”

He throws up his arms as if in surrender. “Hey, I never said I had a problem with it. You’re the one acting weird.”

I blow out a breath. “Sorry, man. I don’t know what my problem is.”

“I do,” he says, pinning me with a knowing look.

“You do?” His gaze is making me uncomfortable. When did Chris turn into a psychiatrist?

“I know how you feel, man. It’s exactly how I felt after my first kiss with Emmy.”

Groaning, I shake my head. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Dude, she may be your sister, but you’re gonna have to get over this. She and I are together now. I love her.”

“Trust me, I know,” I mutter. “But this is completely different.”

“Okay,” he says, but doesn’t sound convinced.

I’m done talking about this. My stomach growls. It’s time to get home for some grub. “You coming over?” I ask.

“Not tonight,” he says. “Emmy has some test she’s studying for.”

I try not to let his words sting. “Yeah, and there wouldn’t be any other reason to come over.”

Even in the dim lighting, I can see the words registering on Chris’s face. “Dude, I didn’t mean it like that.”

I wave away his words, feeling stupid.
Man, I really am turning into a chick
. “Yeah, whatever. See ya tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Chris stops me. “It wasn’t just because of Emmy’s test. My mom wants me to swing by the shop to help her with something. And usually you don’t like to hang out the night before a game.”

He’s right.
So why am I being so damn sensitive?
“Yeah, I know. No worries.”

My uncle is waiting for me in the parking lot after school. Normally Aunt Molly picks me up. The fact that he’s here confirms what I already know. They found out about Dusty. Swallowing hard, I step toward his car. My movements are slow and deliberate, like I’m walking to the guillotine. And it sort of feels that way. Like I’m heading toward my fate, and there’s no way to escape it.

Glancing around, I find myself searching for Cal. I’m not surprised when I don’t see him. From what I hear, the baseball team practices most days after school, so that’s probably where he is. Now I regret hiding out at lunch. It was stupid anyway. I guess I panicked. Everything hit me all at once this morning – my kiss with Cal and the fact that I’m attracted to him, knowing the secret I’m keeping, and the fact that Dusty is hot on my trail. It’s all too much, and I don’t want to face any of it. So I did what I do best. I ran from it. I hid.

But what if I never see Cal again? What if today was it?

My stomach clenches at the thought.

Maybe it is better if I get the hell out of here
. I know I fall for guys fast, but this is ridiculous. It was one night. Nothing more, nothing less. I need to let it go.

Taking a deep breath, I reach my uncle’s car. After opening the passenger door, I throw my backpack on the floor and slide inside. Once I’ve closed the door firmly behind me, I turn to my uncle.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“Hey,” he responds.

I barely look at him. Instead, I stare at my hands, clasping and unclasping them in my lap.

“How was your day?” He asks as he backs the car out of the parking space.

“Good.” I’m doing that thing I do when I’m nervous. Playing with the holes in my jeans – making them bigger. A thread snaps between my fingers.

Uncle Alex’s gaze flickers over to my hand briefly. When he turns the car out of the parking lot, my insides clench. We are heading in the opposite direction of his house.

“Um…w-where are we going?” I ask, my voice wavering.

“You have a doctor’s appointment today, remember?”

Now it’s even more suspicious that he’s here and not Aunt Molly. She always takes me to my appointments. “Where is Aunt Molly?”

“She had a few things to do today, so I told her I’d take you.”

Yeah, I bet she had things to do.
I picture her at home, packing up all my stuff.

Nervous, I glance over at him, studying his profile as he drives. My lips feel like they are glued together, and I have no idea what to say. I want to ask him what Aunt Molly is doing. I want to ask him if they’re making me move. But instead, I kick into survival mode. “I…um…didn’t do so well on my math test, so I got a tutor. Emmy Fisher. You might know her…” I need him to see that I’m trying. That I’m starting to have a life here. That he can trust me. That he can let me stay. I pray it works.

“Oh, yeah. I know the Fishers. Cal is the star pitcher of the Prairie Creek Panthers varsity team.” Uncle Alex looks at me briefly, and I avert my gaze, hoping he doesn’t see how red my cheeks get when he mentions Cal. “And you’ve probably heard of Maise Fisher.”

Maise Fisher? The name does sound familiar, but I can’t figure out why.

“She’s a well-known romance author,” he explains.

“Oh, yeah.” In my mind I can see her covers, always a couple in the throes of some passionate kiss. Whenever a new book of hers came out, they always displayed it in the front of the local bookstore down the street from our apartment. In fact, I think Mom may have read a few. That’s Cal’s mom? I never would’ve guessed.

“Nice family,” Uncle Alex says, turning the car around a corner.

“So you’re okay with Emmy tutoring me?” I’m fishing now. He still hasn’t given me any hints about whether or not I’m staying here.

“Sure.” The hospital comes into view, and he flicks on the blinker.

“Great. I’ll set up a time with her tomorrow when I see her in class.”

“Um…Taylor…”

This is it. I should’ve known
. Sighing, I force my chin upward to face him. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know how to put this gently.” He pauses. I hold my breath. “Your ex-boyfriend was here in town last night. He was looking for you.” Turning the steering wheel, he pulls into the parking lot. After weaving through a row of parked cars, he eases his foot down on the brake. The car slows. After guiding the car into a space, he cuts the engine. Then he angles his body toward mine. “But you don’t need to worry. You’re safe here. No one in town told him you were here, and they won’t. I can assure you of that.”

I exhale.

“I talked to your mom about it, and she agrees that Prairie Creek is the safest place for you right now.”

“She does?”

He nods. “We’ll protect you. Not just your aunt and me, but the entire town.”

“Okay,” I say, relief filling me.

“You all right?” He asks, his face filled with concern.

“Yeah, I am,” I answer honestly.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

I shake my head.

“Well, if you ever do, I’m here for you. Any time.”

What is it with this place?
Is there something in the water that makes people nice? “Thanks,” I mutter, suddenly uncomfortable with all this kindness. It’s like I’ve been bombarded with it today.

****

Dinner at home is usually takeout. Mom’s favorite is curry from the Indian place around the corner, and Dad’s favorite is Chinese. I like when they get pizza, especially the one with the thick crust. Most nights we eat off paper plates in front of the television.

But here we eat home cooked meals every night, and we sit together at the shiny table in the dining room. At first I hated it. Hated having to make small talk and conversation. Hated feeling scrutinized. Now it’s kind of grown on me. Aunt Molly is a good cook, even though she consistently makes too much. The first few nights that I came down for dinner I thought for sure we were having company based on how much food was on the table.

Then again, I notice Uncle Alex taking leftovers with him for lunch every day, so I guess all the food gets eaten. Still, it seems like a lot of work for Aunt Molly to do daily. Good thing she seems to enjoy it.

“Alex tells me you made friends with Emmy Fisher.” Aunt Molly sits across the dining table from me, spearing a leaf of lettuce onto her fork. Her hair is sleek against her face, and her pink lipstick shimmers from the sunlight spilling in through the windows. She’s wearing a cream cardigan over an aqua colored shirt. It’s funny because she’s in her mid-twenties but she dresses much older. Maybe it’s the pastor’s wife thing.

“I guess.” I shrug. “She offered to tutor me in math.” Words I never thought I’d hear myself say. Seems to be a theme with me lately.

“That’s great.” She smiles. “Glad to hear that you’re making friends.”

Unnerved by her cheery intensity, I lower my head and take a bite of my chicken.

“Oh, I ran into Ted Johntson today at the store,” Aunt Molly says to Uncle Alex. “He said to tell you hi.”

“How’s he doing?” Uncle Alex asks, setting down his fork.

“He’s doing well. We talked for awhile.”

Uncle Alex’s lips curl upward in a teasing way. “Yeah, I bet you did.”

Aunt Molly’s face colors.

I freeze.
What the hell?
The hairs on my neck prickle.

“I bet you made his day,” Uncle Alex continues.

Aunt Molly waves away his words, but she giggles a little. “Oh, stop.”

“Come on. Who wouldn’t get excited about running into the prettiest woman in town?” Reaching over, he covers her hand with his.

“The conversation was completely innocent,” she says, but I can tell she doesn’t really need to defend herself. At the start of the conversation I thought a scandal was brewing, but now it’s clear that Uncle Alex was just trying to pay his wife a compliment. My shoulders relax.

“I know.” He squeezes her hand. “I trust you.” He leans toward her and whispers, “I just know how hot you are.”

Lowering her head, her grin deepens.

I shift in my chair, feeling like I’m infringing on a private moment. Are they really married? They’re acting like a couple of teenagers. I didn’t even know married people could behave like this. My parents certainly don’t. I mean, they love each other, but they’re not all lovey-dovey and stuff. Noticing me, Uncle Alex pulls back, clearing his throat. Aunt Molly returns her attention to her dinner, taking a large bite of her salad, a small smile playing on her lips. I’ve never known a relationship like this. Dusty was controlling and manipulative. I wasn’t even allowed to talk to other guys, let alone joke with him about it. I wonder how Cal treats his girlfriends. Is he like Dusty or like Uncle Alex? I’m assuming the latter. Shaking my head, I wonder why I’m even thinking about him. It’s not like he’s going to be my boyfriend.

A knock on the door startles me, interrupting my internal thoughts. By the puzzled expression on my aunt and uncle’s faces, it’s clear they weren’t expecting company. Uncle Alex sets his fork next to his plate and tosses his napkin down on the table. Then he pushes his chair back, stands up, and quickly exits the room. There is a wall separating the dining room from the front door, and Uncle Alex disappears behind it.

Aunt Molly flashes me a quick smile and resumes eating, so she’s not worried then. This eases my mind a little. Perhaps it’s pastoral business of some kind. Still, I can’t eat. I perk my ears trying to hear what’s going on, while absently raking my fork across my plate.

“Taylor?” Uncle Alex appears in the doorway.

My heart arrests. I drop my fork, and it clatters against the table.

“Someone’s here to see you,” he says.

My gaze shoots to Aunt Molly. Her eyes widen.

“Who is it?” she asks, her voice shaking a little.

“A friend from school,” he replies.

“Oh, okay.” Aunt Molly appears visibly relieved.

But my stomach is still in knots. I don’t have a friend from school. As I stand up, I wonder if it’s Emmy. Is she that anxious to tutor me? Walking slowly, I make my way around the corner, my shoulder brushing against Uncle Alex’s arm when I pass him. I inhale sharply when I catch sight of my visitor.

“Cal?” I breathe out.

He smiles, and my heart skips a beat. It’s not a regular smile. It’s the kind of smile that lights up the sky.

Uncle Alex looks at me, raising his eyebrows. Swallowing hard, I step toward Cal. He stands on the front porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes pierce mine, and his smile deepens the closer I get.

Before reaching him, I glance back at Uncle Alex.

He nods. “You two can talk on the porch.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, heading outside. After closing the door, I peer up at Cal. “What’s up?” As nonchalant as I try to sound, I know it doesn’t work.

“You’re still here,” he says.

“Yep.”

“So they didn’t find out about Dusty?” His head bobs toward the house.

“No, they did, and my uncle talked to my mom. But they all agreed I was safest here.”

“Good.”

Dumbfounded, I bite my lip. “Is that why you showed up? To make sure I was still here?”

He nods.

“Why?”

“I already told you. I’m bored. You liven things up.” He shrugs. “And I was kinda worried you were gone when I didn’t see you at lunch.”

“Oh. Well, I was around. You must’ve just missed me.” A nervous laugh escapes, and I’m hoping he doesn’t press me for more details. I don’t want to admit that I was hiding from him.

“Yeah, I must have,” he says softly.

It’s colder than I expected outside, and I involuntarily shiver. For springtime it’s been surprisingly chilly in Prairie Creek.

“Here.” Cal shrugs off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders. His fingers skim the flesh on my neck, and a chill runs down my spine. My heartrate speeds up, and I find myself wanting to kiss him again.

“Thanks,” I say, my gaze lowering to the ground.

“Think your aunt and uncle will let you stay out here for a little while?”

My head snaps up. “Um…yeah. Probably.”

“Cool.” He moves over to the porch swing. When he lowers down onto it, it swings forward, the chains rattling. Looking at me, he pats the seat beside him.

Obediently, I walk over to the porch swing and sit next to him. Our thighs touch, so I scoot over swiftly. His touch stirs things inside me I don’t need to be feeling. In fact, if I’m smart I’ll tell him to leave right now. But I’ve never been known for making the smart decision.

“Your sister offered to tutor me in math,” I blurt out, unsure of what else to say. Small talk has never been my strong suit.

“Really?” His eyebrows jump up. “You gonna take her up on it?”

“Yeah, I think so.” With the toe of my shoe, I push off the ground and the porch swing rocks gently back and forth. It’s quiet out here, not a car or person for miles. Feeling chilled, I tug Cal’s jacket tighter around my body. It smells like him. I try to remember if Dusty ever gave me his jacket, but I can’t think of one time that he did.