Change of Heart (3 page)

“You’re coming to the party at Cade’s tonight, right?” Decker asks after we’ve returned our caps and gowns and are heading to the parking lot.

“I don’t know; I’m pretty tired.”

“Come on, Case,” he pleads, complete with his irresistible smirk and pout combo. “It’s our graduation party!”

“Pretty sure it’s Cade’s graduation party,” I say dryly.

He nudges me with his shoulder. “Last party of high school, come on. For me?”

I sigh. Surely Decker won’t entertain Carrie while I’m there. Maybe I do need to go. Maybe I need to insert myself right between Decker and Carrie just to show her what’s what. Not that Decker is mine to claim like that. We’re just friends. Best friends. With benefits. The lines are always so blurry when it comes to Decker.

“Alright, I’ll go.”

“Whoop!” He fist pumps and picks me up, spinning me around in a circle and attracting a ton of attention before setting me back down. I smooth the front of my simple black dress and quickly look around at the gawkers. Across the parking lot, I see Carrie Miller, and I can feel her glare burning into my skin.

This is going to be a fun night
, I think to myself as Decker boosts me into his truck, spending a little too much time with his hand on my ass. Not that I mind of course.
 

Chapter Three

Decker

By the time Casey and I arrive, the party is in full swing. The music is cranked and the bass is thumping, causing the frames on the walls to rattle. I make my way to the kitchen, looking for the keg. I’m dragging Casey behind me because I know if I let go she’ll probably try to sneak out the back door. Not gonna happen. This is our last high school party, and she’s going to have a good time if it kills me.

I fist bump Jimmy Lewis and give him ten bucks for two cups—one’s for me and one’s for Casey. She doesn’t know it, but she’s drinking tonight, too. I’d already promised both our parents that I’d call if we need a ride home.

Jimmy pours the brew, Budweiser by the looks of it, as I hold the cups.

“I’m not drinking that,” Casey tells me, shaking her head with a disgusted look on her face.

“You are, too.” She continues to shake her head and puts her hands behind her back when I go to hand her one of the cups. “Casey.”

“Decker.”

“Drink the beer.”

“No.”

“Casey.”

“Decker.”

“Last high school party, Case,” I remind her with a sigh.

She rolls her eyes, obviously not falling for my attempt at peer pressure.

“If you don’t drink it, then I’m going to have to drink both.”

She growls at me—actually growls—and grabs the beer from my hand, muttering curses under her breath.

I laugh and touch my cup to hers. “Cheers.”

She tips her chin in acknowledgement and takes a healthy swallow from the cup, then coughs and wipes her chin. “That’s disgusting,” she says, making a face.

I laugh and tell her to sip it slowly, then grab her hand and lead her out to the back deck where some of my teammates are. I feel Casey tense for a moment as we reach the crew, and I chalk it up to her being shy.

After quietly listening to me shoot the shit with the guys for a few minutes, Casey excuses herself to the restroom. I point her in the general direction of the bathroom, and she heads off, but not before I tell her she’d better not leave.

“Hot piece of ass, six o’clock,” Beau, the team’s catcher, says.

I quickly turn around, hoping he’s not talking about Casey like that or I’d have to knock him to the ground. No, it’s not Casey…it’s worse. Carrie Miller. The girl is a barnacle. She tries to get me to sneak off to a bedroom with her at every party. I haven’t entertained that thought once since she transferred here a year ago and I’m not about to start now. She’s plastic, just like the rest of the popular girls. I’d figured that out when she fell right in with them her first day of class.

“Decker,” her annoyingly nasal voice calls. I roll my eyes and turn back to the guys, but that doesn’t deter her. “Decker, baby.” She trips on her heel and bumps into my side, her red punch spilling all over the front of my white button-down shirt.

“Shit,” I say.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Decker! Come on, let me clean that off for you.” She grabs my arm with her talons and starts to tug me towards the house.

I yank my arm out of her grasp. “It’s alright, I got it.” I shake my head and start walking towards the back door.

“I’m so sorry,” she sniffles.

Well, shit.

I can’t stand it when chicks cry. Carrie might be a pain in the ass but it’s obvious she’s three sheets to the wind. Pity for her overcomes the disgust I feel and I awkwardly pat her on the back. “It’s not a big deal,” I tell her as I unbutton my shirt. “See? I have another one on under this.” I take the shirt off and fold it over my arm.

She sniffles and looks up at me, her eyes scanning my plain white undershirt. “It’ll stain,” she says with a frown.

“Well I’m sure there’s laundry detergent somewhere in the house. I’ll just ask Cade where his laundry room is.”

“I know where it is,” she says, a little too perky all of a sudden. She grabs my shirt, hooks her arm around mine and proceeds to tug me into the house.

When we approach the stairs, I pull back. “Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”

She looks back at me all doe-eyed and innocent-like. It may have worked if it was anyone but Carrie. “The washer and dryer are upstairs.”

I shake my head. It may be, but I’m not that stupid. I am not going upstairs with her. “It’s not that big a deal. It’s just a shirt. I’ll wash it when I get home.”

Standing on the top step, she’s about eye-level with me. She yanks my arm, catching me off guard, and I stumble into her. She smiles and runs her hand, the one holding my shirt, down my cheek. I cringe and take a step back, but not before I hear a gasp to my left.

I close my eyes tightly, then open them and look over.

Shit
.

“Casey,” I say, turning towards her.

She shakes her head and pushes passed me, heading for the front door.

“Casey, wait!” I yank my shirt out of Carrie’s grip and take off after Casey, ignoring the looks and whispers around me. They can say or think what they want, but I’m not about to let my best friend take off pissed at me. I follow her out the front door and down the steps. “Casey, stop!”

She finally pauses, startled by my tone, but she doesn’t turn around.

I walk around to face her. “That wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“What did I think it was?” she asks flatly, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her hip in a defensive stance.

“Don’t play games, Casey. I wasn’t doing anything with her. She spilled shit on my shirt and was supposedly taking me to the laundry room. Once she got to the stairs, I knew she was up to something and stopped.”

Casey rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Decker. It’s not like it even matters. I’m going home.”

“It does matter,” I insist.

“Why?”

“Because you’re upset. It matters to me when you’re upset.”

“Why, all of a sudden, do my feelings matter, Decker?”

“What are you talking about? You’re my best friend, your feelings have
always
mattered to me.”

She visibly deflates, as if my answer has disappointed her. It shouldn’t. She
is
my best friend. Has been since we were six years old.

“Listen,
friend
, if you’re going to stay and drink, then I’ll just take your truck home. You can call me when you need a ride instead of your parents.”

“Casey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Decker,” she says with a sigh, relaxing her posture. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired. And you know how I feel about parties.”

I nod, not entirely buying it. But I’ll let it go for tonight. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods and gives me a poor attempt at a reassuring smile.

I pull her in for a hug and kiss the top of her head. “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. I hand her my keys, she snatches them quickly and walks away. Without a goodbye. Casey never leaves without saying goodbye. I consider going after her, but stop myself. Something is definitely up with her and it’s obvious she needs space to work it out. Casey isn’t the type to hide. If she has a problem, she’ll face it head on. So I know she needs time.

And I’ll give her time. But not too much.

Chapter Four

Casey

End of Summer

I lie in my bed, staring at the text on my phone.

Deck:
 
Still up?

I look over at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It’s after midnight, and I have a long drive ahead of me tomorrow. At this hour, Decker only ever wants one thing. I know what I should do, but what am I going to do?

What’s one more night, right? Does that make me a bad person?

Things with Decker have been strained, to say the least, since Cade’s graduation party. It’s like he knows something is wrong but is too afraid to stir things up by asking me about it. I usually don’t hide things from him. I’ve always been an open book.

But this…this I can’t be an open book about.

Me:
  Yes.

Deck:
  Is it open?

He’s referring to my bedroom window. His point of entry.

Me:
 
Yes.

Deck:
 
I’ll be right there.

I roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars shine back at me. Decker and I placed them there when we were twelve. It was only six years ago, but it seems like a lifetime ago. Things are so different now.

I hadn’t been sleeping with him back then.

And I hadn’t been in love with him, either.

Yep, that’s right. I’m in love with my best friend. At Cade’s graduation party, when I saw him with Carrie, it’s like my heart had stopped. I’d believed what he’d told me—that it was a ruse to get him upstairs and that he stopped when he’d figured out what she was up to. But it was in that moment that I’d realized my feelings for Decker were much stronger than they should have been. And then, when he and I had spoken outside before I’d left that night, I’d realized my feelings were stronger than his, too.

You’re my best friend.

Those four words were like a punch in the chest. But what had I expected? For Decker to have the big ah-ha realization moment at the exact same time as me? Not likely. Hell, my moment of realization wasn’t even all that awesome. Since we took our friendship to the next level, Decker has never expressed that he wants us to be anything more than what we are. In fact, he’d always seemed pretty content to just keep our whole “relationship” a secret. Maybe if he would have just come out with it, his friends would have laid off with the teasing and the name calling. Or maybe it would have been even worse.

Then, to make the situation even more complicated, what do I do? I go and fall in love with him. Smooth, Casey. Real smooth. I’ve always loved Decker, but it’s different now. Too different.

I hear the tell-tale sound of the window being raised so I roll onto my side to watch him climb in. Decker has been climbing in and out of my bedroom window for more than ten years, but it’s only happened at night, like this, the past few months.

Regardless of the obvious strain, our appetite for one another hasn’t changed. All summer long we’d feasted off one another night after night. It’s as if I’ve been trying to quench all my desires before our impending separation. The separation he’s still unaware of.

My heart pinches inside my chest at the thought of this being our last night together. Maybe, just maybe, things can be different. There
is
still time.

I take in his slightly disheveled appearance and my stomach clenches. He’s really filled out over the past year. Thick, corded muscles in his arms and shoulders—natural for a pitcher, tight abs, and muscular thighs. Now another part of me is clenching.

He struggles his way into the room, then stumbles over to my bed. His auburn hair is slightly longer than last summer’s buzz cut, but still quite short, and spiked in a messy, yet organized, way. He gives me a half smirk, his eyes are hooded.

Great. He’s drunk. Just how I’d wanted to remember tonight. I should’ve said no. I should’ve ignored the text. I should’ve locked the damn window.

But it’s Decker. My kryptonite.

“Have you been drinking?” I foolishly ask him, already knowing the answer to my question.

He laughs as he drops on the edge of the bed and starts pulling off his shoes. “A little,” he admits.

“I thought you were in training.” The frustration is evident in my tone—not that he’d notice in his present state.

Decker got a baseball scholarship to go to the University of South Carolina. He is going to be a Gamecock, and everyone in our town is so proud of him. I’m proud of him. Even though the baseball season isn’t until the second part of the year, they have the team train all-year-round to some degree. And when he’d accepted the scholarship, he also accepted a pretty extensive summer training schedule to prepare him for what he will have to deal with once he is on campus.

“It’s one night, Case. Stop being so serious all the time. It’s summer,” he slurs. He finally wrangles off his pants and shirt and flops down on his back.

“It won’t kill you to take things seriously every once in a while.”
Maybe if you took things seriously once in a while, you’d realize that life was about to change,
I think to myself but don’t dare speak. I don’t want a confrontation with Decker. Yeah…I’m a chicken.