Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3)
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If Hayes can forget about my past and move on, then I will try to do the same.

HAYES

 

“Dinner with the fam. Pretty big step, bro,” Jameson’s voice floats through my cell phone.

I adjust the bat bag on my shoulder. A few of the guys on the team wave in my direction as they head off the field after practice. A cool breeze blows over my sweat-soaked skin. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’ve only been going out a couple weeks. Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast?”

When I step off the grass, my feet clomp on the pavement. “She’s been around the family before. Gramps is one of the main reasons we’re together.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jameson’s voice trails off.

I stop walking. “Why don’t you say what you called to say, Jameson?”

“Dude, this is Ashley McIntosh we’re talking about.”

“I’m aware of who I’m dating, big brother.”

“Are you?”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. A few of the guys have reached their cars, and engines rumble into the night. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“It’s just that the girl you talk about sounds nothing like the Ashley McIntosh I remember from Prairie Creek High.”

“I know,” I say, stepping forward. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She’s changed.”

“This huge transformation happened after her boyfriend made out with your girlfriend?” He pauses. “And now you two are together.”

My stomach twists. “I know it seems suspicious.”

“Damn right it does.”

“But it’s not, okay? I mean, yeah, I think that event bonded us in some weird way. But Ashley really likes me. I’m sure of it. And I like her. End of story.” When I reach my car, I unlock the passenger side door. Then I press the phone to my ear with my shoulder and toss my bat bag inside.

“Fair enough. I’ll back off. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. You’re barely getting over what Talia did to you.”

I soften at his words. “I’ll be fine.” There’s no way I can tell him I won’t get hurt, because I don’t know. Relationships are a gamble. After closing the passenger door, I make my way to the driver’s side.

“I still think you’re moving too fast though.”

Groaning, I shake my head. “It’s dinner with the family, bro. No biggie. Ashley’s been around my family plenty already. She visited Gramps in the hospital all the time, and that was before we were together.”

“Don’t even get me started on how weird I think that is,” Jameson mutters. “But I wasn’t talking about dinner. I was talking about you and how you always jump in with both feet when you start dating someone. Just remember it’s your senior year. You don’t want to get tied down this year. Colleges are crawling with Ashleys. Trust me.”

I lean my back against the car and stare up at the sky. “I’m not going away to college, remember?”

“You’re sticking with your junior college plan, huh?”

It’s like a punch to the gut. “It’s not a plan,” I speak through gritted teeth. “It’s reality. I don’t have the grades to get into a college. My only prayer is junior college at this point.”

“I just don’t want to see you sell yourself short.”

It’s so easy for Jameson to say these things. College was never a question for him. It was a given. He’s a straight A student and a hell of a ball player. I’m an average student and good ball player, but not the best. It’s a wonder I don’t hate the guy. Then again, it would be impossible to. Jameson is not only one of the smartest, most talented guys I know, but he’s also the most charming. Everyone likes him.

“I’m not,” I assure him.

“All right. Well, I better let you go home to the family dinner. Give Mom and Gramps a hug for me.”

“Will do.”

 

***

 

While I’m helping Mom with dishes after dinner, Ashley sits in the family room regaling Grandpa with all the details of our last scrimmage. My lips twitch at the edges as I listen to her. She gets most of it right, but the things she gets wrong are cute. Still, I love that she’s doing this for him. That she’s trying to make him feel as if he was there. When she and I are together, there are times where the old Ashley pops up, but when she’s with Grandpa, there are no traces of that girl. She’s sweet and innocent, childlike almost.

“She makes him happy, huh?” I say to Mom when she notices me watching them.

Mom smiles. “It seems like it’s a two-way street.”

I nod. Grandpa fills a void in Ashley’s life, that’s obvious. I like to think that I do that for Ashley too, but I can’t be sure. With Grandpa it’s clear. Turning my attention away from the family room, I stick a plate in the dishwasher. “I talked to Jameson earlier.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s he doing?” Mom wipes down a chrome pot. Water slides down her arm.

“Good.” I glance back toward Grandpa and Ashley. “Mom, do you think I’m making a mistake?”

“With Ashley, you mean?” she whispers, careful to make sure they can’t hear. But I know they can’t. They’re deep in their own conversation. As if on cue, Ashley’s giggle wafts into the kitchen.

I nod.

Mom bites her lip, thinking. “At first I was skeptical, but watching her tonight, I can tell that she really likes you.”

“Really?”

“Don’t seem so surprised.” Mom pats my cheek. “You’re a catch.”

I snort, shaking my head.

“What?” Mom’s lips curl upward at the corners. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” Mom is my biggest fan. She’s made up for the fact that my dad’s been pretty much MIA. My mind travels to Ashley’s dad and the one time I met him at the hospital. That day I remember thinking how Ashley and I were similar, but the more time I spend with her, the more I realize that wasn’t a fair comparison. Sure, we both have distant dads, but I have an involved mom. She doesn’t. Not that she talks about her mom much, but I’ve known her mom for years. That woman has issues.

I fill up the remainder of the dishwasher and then slam it closed with my hip. “Thanks for dinner, Mom.” Leaning over, I stamp a quick kiss on Mom’s cheek.

She smiles. “Any time.” Mom works long hours at the hospital, but somehow she manages to still cook amazing meals and keep the house up. And she never appears frazzled or spread too thin. I don’t know how she does it.

When I enter the family room, Ashley and Grandpa both look up. At Ashley’s large grin, my heart soars. Grandpa looks between the two of us, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m about to watch one of my shows,” Grandpa says, throwing me a knowing look.

I nod, silently thanking him. It’s not that I don’t love spending time with my grandpa, but I was hoping for some alone time with Ashley.

“Wanna go sit outside?” I ask her.

“Sure.” She stands up and then glides over to Grandpa. Bending over, she gives him a hug. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, pretty lady,” he says.

Straightening back up, she ambles over to me. Tonight she’s wearing a pink sundress and gold sandals. Her hair is straight and swishes over her shoulders as she walks. I swallow hard, drinking her in. The longer I stare at her, the more I doubt Jameson’s statement. There’s no way that colleges are crawling with Ashleys. She’s one of a kind. Even when she was mean, I still couldn’t help but be attracted to her. She’s that good-looking. So good-looking you can overlook a lot. But now that she’s softened, she’s irresistible.

Outside the air is cool, but not too cool. There is still some warmth on the gentle breeze. We make our way over the steps and sit down on the top one. We don’t have a porch swing or pretty white wicker chairs like so many of our neighbors, but that’s okay. The stairs work fine. Besides, when I sit next to Ashley on the step our thighs brush, and that’s way better than being in separate chairs.

The porch lights illuminate her smooth, pale skin, taking my breath away.

“You’re gorgeous,” I breathe out.

Her head swivels in my direction, and she smiles. “Thanks.”

“But I’m sure you hear that all the time,” I say feeling kind of stupid for stating something so obvious.

She furrows her brows. “Actually, I don’t.”

I shake my head. “Now I know you’re messing with me. Every guy at our school thinks you’re gorgeous.”

“No. They think I’m hot.” She frowns. “That’s what I always hear. That I’m hot.”

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

Her head swings back and forth emphatically. “Not at all.” I lean forward, interested in hearing this. “Hot is like ‘sexy’. It’s what a guy says when he wants to get in my pants.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. ‘Hot’ makes me feel kind of cheap, I guess. ‘Gorgeous’ is like saying that I’m worth something. It’s more respectful.” She chuckles. “Probably sounds stupid to you, but that’s just how it feels to me.”

I reach for her hand, knotting my fingers through hers. “No, it doesn’t sound stupid. It makes perfect sense.”

Her gaze finds mine, and she searches my eyes for a minute. “You know, after Josh and Talia hooked up at that party I thought my life was over. I thought it was the worst thing ever. And when everyone rejected me, it was like everything was getting even worse. But now I’m glad it all happened the way it did.”

I nudge her in the side. “You mean, you’re okay with not being queen bee?”

She offers me a half smile and drops her head onto my shoulder. I freeze, not wanting her to move. It feels good with her cheek pressing into my shoulder and her hair tumbling down my arm. “It’s all I wanted for so many years, and I thought it would make me happy. But it didn’t. It was exhausting and lonely.” Sliding my hand up, I stroke her back. “I never knew how nice it would be to just have one person who truly cared about me. I guess I thought I had to be surrounded by people all the time or something.”

“I’m not the only person who cares about you, Ash,” I say.

“Really?” She picks her head up. “Who else does?”

“Well, my grandpa for starters.”

She waves away my words. “Yeah, but I was talking about friends. People our age, you know.”

“There are other people our age who care about you.”

She raises a brow. “Name one.”

“Emmy,” I blurt out the first name I can think of.

She cocks her head to the side. “Maybe last year, but not anymore.”

“But she did care about you, right?”

Sadness swims in Ashley’s eyes. A car drives past our house, painting the darkness with bright yellow light. “I sure ruined that one, huh?”

“You can fix it though.”

She purses her lips. “Pretty sure it’s too late for that.”

“I don’t think it’s ever too late.” Emmy strikes me as the forgiving type. Besides, I know that when the two of them hung out Emmy truly liked Ashley. It was obvious in the way she interacted with her. The way she would staunchly defend her. Even when Emmy recently approached me to warn me against dating Ashley, I knew it was coming from the hurt and betrayal she felt. And she wouldn’t feel that way if there wasn’t an underlying desire to have Ashley back. A desire for them to be friends again.

Ashley lets out a bitter laugh. “What do you suggest? That I apologize to Emmy? That I ask her to be my friend again?”

I shrug. “Sounds like a start.”

Skepticism is written all over her face. “Oh, yeah. I’m totally sure she’d go for that.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try.” Reaching up, I touch her face, gently stroking her cheek with my thumb. “You’ve rejected me more times than I can count. You called me fat.” Shame washes over her face. “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I’m making a point. Just follow me here.” I pause, making sure she’s all right. When she nods, I continue. “I took a chance on you anyway. Maybe Emmy will do the same.” She doesn’t look convinced, so I snake my arm around her waist and pull her closer. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t at least give it a shot.”

She sighs. “You’re probably right, but I don’t know if I can get up the courage to do it.”

I draw back, stunned. “No way. You’re the most bad ass girl I know.”

She laughs. “I’ve literally never been bad ass, but I’m glad I had you fooled.”

It hits me that Ashley’s attitude wasn’t simply about being popular. It was how she protected herself. Inside she’s scared the same way the rest of us are. Maybe even more so. I tighten my hold on her. “Well, maybe it’s time to actually be bad bass then.” I catch her eye. “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but were too scared to?”

She’s silent for a minute. Then she sits up straighter and blows out a breath, as if she’s going to share something big. It perks my curiosity. “I’ve always wanted to start an online fashion channel. You know, where I can put up makeup tutorials or videos of what I’m wearing that day or how to fix your hair? That type of thing.”

“Seriously?”

Her face falls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

I recover quickly. “I’m not. I was just surprised, I guess. I thought for sure you were gonna say jump out of a plane or something like that.”

She narrows her eyes. “Do I look like someone who would want to jump out of a plane? I mean, come on. I think they make you wear some awful jumpsuit, and my hair would get all messed up.”

BOOK: Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3)
13.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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