Play Hard (Make the Play #2) (9 page)

“What are you wearing?” Aunt Molly asks when I come downstairs before school. She’s standing in the kitchen, her back resting against the tile counter, holding a mug of steaming coffee between both hands. Her nails are nicely manicured and painted, and it makes me self-conscious of my chipped polish. I curl my fingers down into a fist. Even though it’s early, Aunt Molly is already dressed, hair fixed and makeup on. I’ve yet to see her in sweats or wearing her hair in a raggedy bun. She always looks immaculate. Her attire is usually cardigans or sweaters and slacks. She seems okay with it, but for some reason it makes me feel sad for her.

“Um…” I glance down at Cal’s jacket. When I put it on I had expected to get this question. I’d even contemplated waiting to wear it until I got to school, but at the last minute I decided to put it on. I’m not an idiot. I know why Cal wants me to wear this. It’s not because he’s worried about me being cold, although I do know that’s why he gave it to me in the first place. I may not have dated a jock before, but I’ve known jocks. So, therefore, I’m aware of the significance of wearing a guy’s jacket. He wants people to know about us. But more than that, I get the sense that he needs to know I want this. I’ve pushed him away a lot, and I think he wants to know if I’m in.

Honestly, I shouldn’t be in. I know this is a mistake, but I’m tired of trying to fight my feelings. I like Cal. He makes me feel good about myself. He makes me feel safe and protected. And I love that he wants validation from me. Dusty never cared what I thought. He made it clear from day one that I was lucky to be with him, not the other way around. And he never let me wear his stuff. Sure, he staked his claim, made sure no one came near me. But not in a “proud to be with me” kind of way. More in a “she’s mine and you better back off” kind of way. I’m not even sure I knew there was a difference before meeting Cal. But now I know there is.

I want to give Cal his validation. I want him to know that I’m proud of him too. That I feel blessed that he wants to be with me.

“It’s Cal Fisher’s baseball jacket. He loaned it to me the other night when I was cold,” I tell her.

She gives me a funny look. “You’re giving it back to him today, right?”

I shake my head. “He’s sorta letting me wear it for awhile.”

“Your uncle’s not gonna like this.” She sets down the coffee cup and starts wiping down the counters. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve learned that she does this when she’s nervous.

“Cal’s a nice guy. Uncle Alex said so himself.”

“I know he is, and he comes from a nice family.”

I step forward, my eyes pleading. “So, maybe you could remind Uncle Alex of that?”

She freezes, her eyes catching mine and I see the struggle inside. I can tell a part of her is happy for me about Cal, but the other part is concerned. “Taylor, it’s not that we don’t think Cal would be a nice boy for you to date. But in this circumstance, it’s just not smart.” She brings a hand up to her chin. “I mean, have you told him? Does he know about…” her voice trails off.

“No,” I answer. “He doesn’t.”

Her face softens. She moves closer to me, reaching out and patting my hand. “I know what it feels like when a boy like Cal is interested in you. You know, your uncle was quite the ball player back in the day. I remember the first time he asked me to wear his jacket like it was yesterday.” A wistful expression blankets her face, and it tugs at my heart. Is that the way I look when I think about Cal? She snaps out of it, drawing her hand back. “That’s why I know exactly what this means.” She points to the jacket. “And your uncle will too.”

“I know. And I know why he’ll be upset. But it’s just that I’ve never had a guy treat me like Cal does. Dusty wasn’t like this at all. And I’m starting to really like Cal.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she says, and I can tell that she does. I think back to how she tried to advocate for me the other night. I’m beginning to realize that there’s a lot more to Molly than meets the eye. “But if you want things to work out between you two, you’re going to have to tell him the whole truth.”

My gaze lowers to my feet, fear creeping up into my chest. “I’m afraid he won’t want anything to do with me when he finds out.”

“You won’t know until you tell him.” As ominous as her words sound, I’m glad she didn’t lie to me or give me a bunch of platitudes. I’m glad she was honest. “But, Taylor, even if you keep the secret, he’s going to find out eventually. Wouldn’t you rather it be now?”

No. Not at all.
“Yeah, I guess.”

When I woke up this morning, I was so excited about wearing Cal’s jacket to school. I was hopeful about my future. But this one conversation brought me back to reality. Now I’m wondering if I was stupid to ever believe that I could find happiness. That I could ever have a normal relationship.

But more than anything, it’s made me wonder if Dusty was right when he said that I’m not worthy of true love.

****

All doubts about wearing Cal’s jacket fly out the window when I spot him at school. He’s at his locker when I enter the hallway. When he glances up, his eyes meet mine, and the look on his face makes it worth it. His lips curl upward, his eyes lighting up. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone appear so happy to see me, and my heart soars. Man, this guy makes me feel things I’ve never experienced. And as much as it scares me, it excites me more. His gaze traveling down my body, he slams his locker shut and takes large strides to reach me. I giggle when his arms come around my middle, and he tugs me into him.

“Man, you look so hot in my jacket.”

My face warms. When my gaze shifts around the hallway, all eyes are focused on us. My pulse quickens.

“Don’t worry about them,” Cal says, his eyes following my gaze. “Look at me.”

Dusty would say things like that, but they didn’t come out playful. It’s weird how the exact same words can mean entirely different things depending on the inflection and the intent behind it.

“You knew everyone would be staring if I wore this, didn’t you?” I lift one brow.

An apology flashes in his eyes. “Are you okay with that?”

“That depends,” I say.

“On what?” His fingertips skate over my middle, and a shudder ripples through me.

I take a deep breath. So far I haven’t shared much about my past with Cal. And I know Aunt Molly’s right. I need to spill everything, but I’m not ready yet. However, I do need him to know some things. It’s the only way I can protect myself. The only way I can ensure Cal will understand me. “Dusty treated me like property. It’s why I was so reluctant to wear this. I don’t want to be anyone’s property, Cal. Not even yours.”

He extracts one of his arms from around my waist and gently brushes his fingertips over my cheek. “You’re no one’s property, Taylor. Not mine. Not…” he swallows hard. “Dusty’s.” Darkness flashes in his eyes, and I can see the disgust on his face at the mention of my ex-boyfriend’s name. “I respect you, and I won’t treat you like property. I’m sorry if that’s how I made you feel by asking you to wear this.” Lowering his hand, he touches the collar of the jacket. “Honestly, I wanted you to wear it because I want everyone to know how I feel about you. I want them to know how crazy I am about you.” His face grows serious. “I saw how those girls treated you last night, like you were invisible. And when I talked to Dusty I heard the dismissive way he spoke about you. You’re not invisible, and you’re definitely deserving of a guy who treats you like you’re special. That’s why I wanted you to wear this.” He yanks gently on the collar. “I do want people to know that you belong to me, but not in a possessive way. In a protective way. Meaning, I’ll do anything and everything I can to protect you, keep you safe.”

His words puncture my heart. They’re the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard spoken in real life. I blink furiously and swallow down the emotion rising in my throat. Sniffing, I say, “I can definitely tell you were raised by a romance author.”

Surprise registers on his face. “Who told you about my mom?”

“My uncle.”

Nodding, he says, “It’s true that my mom writes romance, but I’ve never read her books. And what I just said to you wasn’t rehearsed. It’s how I feel. It’s the truth.”

“I know.” I smile. “That’s what made it so beautiful.”

“You can take the jacket off if you want,” he says, and I love that he offers that even though I know he likes me in it.

“No.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have worn it if I didn’t want to. You’re not the only one who wants to make a statement with it.”

“Is that right?” His lips edge upward.

“Yep.” Lifting on my tip-toes, I gently plant a kiss on his cheek. “I want everyone to know how crazy I am about you too.”

He holds me tighter. “You’re crazy about me?”

I nod as the bell rings through the air.

“Seriously? I have to leave you now? After what you just admitted I want to keep you in my arms all day.”

I chuckle. “I think my teachers would frown upon that.”

“And here I thought you were the rebellious one.”

It’s a joke, but it stings a little. Mostly because that’s how I’ve always been known. As the rebel. The bad girl. The tough one. And from the moment I met Cal, it’s clear that he’s one of the good guys. The rule follower. The gentleman.

There’s no way this can last, and I know it will end when he finds out everything. That’s why I can’t keep my promise to Aunt Molly. I can’t tell Cal today. At some point I will. But first I want to hold onto him for a little longer.

“You and voodoo chick, huh?” Ashley intercepts me before lunch.

“Don’t call her that,” I snap.

She chuckles. “Looks like the rumors are true. She’s definitely cast a spell on you.”

“Yeah, I guess she did. But trust me, she didn’t have to use magic.” I grin, the image of Taylor filling my mind. “She is magic.”

Ashley grimaces. “God, you sound like a character in one of your mom’s books.”

That’s the second time I’ve been accused of that today.
Am I turning into a sap or what?
“Shouldn’t you be bothering Josh?”

With a disgusted laugh, she shakes her head. “It’s so weird. Here I thought you and Christian were so cool, but you’ve both fallen for losers.”

Man, if she weren’t a chick, I’d deck her. In one statement she disrespected two of my favorite people. “Watch it,” I say through gritted teeth.

“What’s going on?” Josh walks up.

Behind him, I spot Taylor. She’s standing right inside the doorway of the cafeteria, her gaze sweeping the room. My heart pinches. I’ve only seen her in here once. Is she here for me? I was planning to meet her in the quad, but I’d love it if she sat inside with me and my friends.

“Nothing.” I wave away Josh’s question. “Just Ashley being Ashley. And she’s all yours. I’m outta here.” Shoving past them, I hurry in Taylor’s direction.

As I approach, she lifts her head, a small smile surfacing on those dark, heart-shaped lips of hers. My insides flutter with every step.

“Hey,” I greet her. “Wasn’t expecting you in here.”

“It’s cold outside,” she said.

“Even in my jacket?”

Nodding, she grins.

“So you didn’t come in here for me then?”

“For a big baseball superstar, your ego sure needs a lot of stroking,” she teases. At least I hope she’s teasing. However, she’s not entirely wrong.

Deciding not to press the issue anymore, I snatch up her hand. Her palms are clammy. I squeeze my fingers around hers.

“Nervous?” I ask.

“Just not sure I’ll fit in with your group.”

“You will.”

She pauses, a skeptical expression filling her face. “How can you be sure?”

“Because you fit in with me.” She doesn’t seem convinced, but she follows me. Her guarded expression and cold damp hands remind me of what she’s been through. She’s only shared tidbits, but she doesn’t even need to speak about her past. It’s written all over her face. It’s evident in her mannerisms, in her hot and cold behavior, in her expressions. 

“Hey, Taylor.” Emmy waves us over when we near the table.

“Hi,” Taylor mumbles.

“I’m Christian.” Chris stands, thrusting out his hand.

“Taylor.” She shakes the hand he’s offered.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard all about you.” He throws me a wink.

Taylor appears flustered at first, but recovers quickly. We sit on the bench across from Chris and Emmy, and Taylor busies herself with taking out her lunch bag.

“Taylor, you wanna ride home with me after school?” Emmy asks between bites of her sandwich, and my head snaps up in surprise.

“You guys are hanging out today?” I ask, wondering why neither of them told me.

“Math tutoring,” Taylor explains, a tiny cringe flashing.

Smiling, I snake an arm over her shoulder. “Ah, that’s right. Fun stuff.”

“It
is
fun,” Emmy insists.

“Good luck with Miss Numbers over here,” I tease.

Taylor chuckles. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Be careful.” Emmy waggles her index finger in front of my face. “Or I just might peruse our photo albums with Taylor.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I fire back.

“Watch me.”

“Okay, babe.” Chris clamps a hand down on Emmy’s thigh, and she visibly calms. He throws Taylor a conspiratorial look. “Get used to this with the two of them. I’ve had years of it.”

I should be pissed at Chris for talking about me like that, but when I see the smile on Taylor’s face, all anger leaves me. Instead, I’m grateful to Chris for making her feel like part of the group. Catching his eye, I throw him an appreciative nod. He grins back.

Hayes slips onto the bench beside me. “Hey, man.” His eyes widen when he notices Taylor next to me in my jacket. “Oh, hey voodoo chi--”

I cut him off with a swift shake of my head and narrowed eyes.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Sorry. I mean, hey, Taylor. I’m Hayes.”

If she heard his initial greeting, she downplays it. “Hi, Hayes,” she responds politely.

“So, the other day when we were talking, you
were
into her?” He whispers to me.

“Yeah, I was, and I still am,” I clarify.

“Right.” He pauses. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said, man.”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” I say, not letting him off the hook too fast. Not because I don’t like Hayes or that I don’t believe he feels bad. Mostly because I want him to spread the word. The rude nicknames need to go.

Appearing rattled by the exchange, Hayes fiddles inside his backpack for a minute before striking up a conversation with Palmer who sits on the other side of him.

“So you never said if you needed a ride,” Emmy says, bringing us full circle.

“Oh, yeah, that might work. I would just need to get ahold of Aunt Molly.” Pink spots appear on her cheeks. “But I would have to borrow a cell phone. I don’t have one.”

Emmy reels back. “You don’t have a phone?”

“I did before coming here. My mom kinda kept it.” Agitated, she scratches the back of her neck.

My mind travels back to meeting Dusty. I can only imagine why her mom took her phone. “It’s okay. You can use mine.” I take it out of my pocket. When I hand it to her, our fingertips brush. As she dials her aunt, I find myself wishing I didn’t have practice after school. Taylor’s coming over to my house, and I want to be there. I marvel at how weird this is. It’s the first time I’ve ever wished I could get out of practice.

This girl is changing me.