Play Safe (Make the Play #1) (21 page)

I never should have pushed Christian. I should have listened to Cal. Then maybe Christian wouldn’t be ignoring me now. It’s been almost a week since we spoke. Even when I pass him in the halls at school, he refuses to make eye contact. He turns his head or stares down at his shoes. Sometimes I think about stepping in his path, of forcing him to acknowledge me. But then I remember how cold he was toward me at the baseball field, and it stops me. It was hard enough to have him treat me like that in private. It would be downright unbearable in front of a bunch of high school students. It was just like when we were kids and I tried to comfort him after the shop was vandalized. But this time I’m not a child, and he hurt a lot more than my pride. He broke my heart. I know Ashley’s noticed I’m not with Christian anymore. I’ve seen her knowing glances, her triumphant smiles. And it makes me sick.

I trusted Christian. I believed him when he told me he wasn’t going to hurt me. Ashley knew better. She tried to warn me. And it makes me feel stupid.

At times I’ve felt so desperate I’ve contemplated asking Cal to talk to Christian on my behalf, but I can’t do that. I don’t want to get in the middle of their friendship. I don’t want to cause a rift. No matter how angry I am with Christian, I know he’s hurting right now. He needs Cal, even if he won’t admit it. That’s why I’ve kept my brave face on around Cal. In fact, I didn’t even tell him what happened at the baseball field. All I said was that I’d decided to give Christian space to process his dad’s death.

It isn’t exactly a lie.

It isn’t exactly the truth either.

However, it’s what I need Cal to believe. And I think he did at first. Now I’m not so sure. The last couple of days he’s been watching me more closely, asking pointed questions. As hard as I try to keep up this ruse, I know he’ll see through me at some point. Like a spool of yarn, I’m starting to unravel a little more every day. I envision my insides trailing me everywhere I go. My nerves are frayed, my emotions lingering right at the surface.

When I get home from school Friday, I find Olivia sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea with Mom. They are deep in conversation, their heads bent close together. Everything about them is opposite in looks. Where Mom has light hair, Olivia’s is dark. Mom’s skin is pale, Olivia’s is tanned. Olivia dresses very eclectic, while Mom favors yoga pants and t-shirts. However, when they are seated like this they mirror each other. As their mouths move, words spilling across the table, I can see the similarities. Not so much in how they look, but in who they are.

The minute I enter the room the spell is broken. Their heads bounce up and they greet me. Then Mom waves me over, inviting me to join them. Normally I would jump at the chance. When I was a little girl, I loved to watch them sit and drink tea together. They would gab about life, holding pretty mugs in their hands. I’d watch as steam rose from the cups, and I’d dream of one day joining them. When I got older, they’d allow me to sit with them from time to time, and I loved it. But today I don’t think I can. I don’t know if I can sit across from Olivia without giving away how I feel; without spilling my guts about Christian. So I shake my head, declining the invitation. However, Mom insists, not taking no for an answer.

Olivia gets up from the table and envelopes me in a hug. And that’s when I lose it. Sobs rack my body. Tears fill my eyes. I’m grasping at the edge of the yarn, desperately trying to reign myself in, but it slips through my fingers. It’s no use. I’m coming undone.

“Oh, honey.” Olivia strokes my hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

I peer up at her, blinking through the haze of tears. Does she know?

When our eyes lock, I know that she does. Brushing a damp strand of hair from my face, she says, “Trust me, Chris will come around.”

“He will?” I ask, and it terrifies me how much I need to believe her words.

She nods.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know him.” She smiles. “I know him better than anyone.”

That’s true. She does. If I can trust anyone when it comes to Christian, it’s the woman who raised him.

She draws back from me, and squeezes my hand. “C’mon. Let’s sit down and have a cup of tea.”

Mom already has a steaming cup on the table for me. I sit in the empty chair in front of it. When my hand closes around it, warmth seeps into my palm. Lifting the mug to my lips, I take a tentative sip. It’s hot, but not too hot, and it feels good as it coats my tongue. Tea has always had a calming effect on me.

“How is he?” I ask Olivia.

“He’s struggling,” she answers honestly. “He misses you.”

“He said that?” Hope stirs in my heart.

Olivia shakes her head. “No, but I can tell.”

I frown.

“Oh, you know how guys are,” Mom says as if she’s an expert. “They don’t talk about their feelings, but we can read them. Isn’t that right, Liv?”

Olivia chuckles. “Yes, we can. And there’s no boy on earth I can read better than Chris.”

“He told me to leave him alone. Said he couldn’t be with me anymore,” I confess. “And now he won’t talk to me.”

I don’t realize that Cal is home until I hear the sharp intake of breath from over my shoulder. When I turn around, Cal’s eyes are narrowed, his mouth pressed together in a tight line.

“You told me you decided to give him space. You never said he told you to leave him alone,” Cal says angrily.

Olivia stiffens.

Mom sits up straighter. “Cal, you know better than to eavesdrop on girl talk.”

“Emmy,” Cal presses. When my gaze meets his, he shakes his head. “Damn it, have you been crying?”

“Cal.” I push away from the table, and stand. “I’m fine.” When he flashes me a look of disbelief, I say, “Err…I’ll be fine.”

Cal curses under his breath, slamming his palm on the counter. “I can’t believe him. He promised me he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Cal, stay out of it,” Mom says from where she sits at the table. “This is between Chris and Emmy. They don’t need you meddling. You don’t want to stand in the way of love, do you?”

By the look on Cal’s face, I’d say she lost him with the last statement. But that’s Mom. She always goes too far.

“Can you keep your flowery sentiments in your books, please?” Cal says. “Chris and Emmy aren’t one of the couples you made up, and I’m not letting him get away with this.” Angrily, he storms out of the room.

I glance at his back helplessly.

“Just let him go,” Mom says. “Let him cool down.”

My instinct is to go after him, but I decide to listen to Mom. I decide to give him his space. I do for Cal what I should have done for Christian. But I pray that it’s the right decision.

I pray that Cal doesn’t make everything worse.

We lost the scrimmage tonight, and it’s Cal’s fault. He missed all my signals and his throws were wild. I’ve never seen him play like that, and it’s making me worry about the start of the season in a couple of weeks.

After the scrimmage I pass him, and his shoulder slams into mine.
Okay, that’s it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap.

“With me?” His eyes widen incredulously. “What’s wrong with you?” Pressing his palms into my chest, he shoves me backward. The other players glance over, and I can feel the tension rising. I cock my head to the side, confused, when he shoves me again.
Oh, hell no.
“You said I could trust you. Said you wouldn’t hurt her.” Another push.

Ah, this is about Emmy.
I should’ve known. Softening, I take a deep breath and put out my hands to stop him from shoving me again. “I’m sorry, man. I never should’ve made that promise.”

“Wow.” He nods, an angry smile painting his face. “Never pegged you as a coward.”

Coward?
Anger surfaces. “What did you say to me?” I step forward, fisting my hands at my sides. Some of the guys move closer, whispering to one another. They’re expecting a fight.

“Go ahead.” He lifts his chin. “Hit me. It won’t prove anything. Won’t make you any less of a coward.”

“I’m warning you, Cal,” I growl, my arms twitching, my veins pulsating beneath my flesh.

“Go ahead. Do it”

He’s egging me on. He wants me to hit him, and he knows how to push my buttons. I blow out a breath. No way. I can’t do it. Not to Cal. I take a step back. “I’m not hitting you.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re my best friend, man.”

“So what? So, you’ll burn another bridge,” he says. “Then you’ll be alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

His words hurt worse than a punch.

Cal laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “You know what’s funny? You hate your old man so much, but you’re just like him. Running away the same way he did.”

Now he’s gone too far. I plant my hands squarely in his chest and shove him back. He flies backward, but stays on his feet. Wearing a smile, his eyes never leave mine. Unnerved, I avert my gaze. Hurrying away from him, I grab my stuff. I’m not sticking around here for one more minute.

Adrenaline pumping, body shaking, I walk swiftly across the darkened field toward the parking lot. I almost reach it when I see Emmy standing at the edge of the grass staring up at the stars. Spinning around, I plan to run in the other direction, but then Cal’s words fill my mind.

You’re just like him. Running away the same way he did.

She looks so lost standing there all alone, and I can’t leave her. Not now. Not tonight. Gathering all my courage, I head in her direction. When I reach her, she peers over her shoulder. Her face is unreadable, but she doesn’t appear too shocked to see me. It’s almost like she had been waiting for me. Maybe she was.

“Two hundred twenty-five,” she says.

“What?”

“That’s how many stars I’ve counted since you last spoke to me.”

Ouch.
“Emmy, I--”

“You said you were my star.” She whirls around to face me, her eyes flashing with pain and anger. “You said I could count on you.” Her index finger flies out, jabbing me in the chest right above my heart, emphasizing every syllable. It stings a little, but I take it. It’s the least I can do. “But you lied.” She draws her arm back. “And you know what’s sad? You knew how much saying that would mean to me, because you know me.”

“I do know you. You’re right.” My shoulders slump, my head hanging low. I feel defeated. “But you know me too,” I point out. She knew all about my scars before we started dating.

“I thought I did, but apparently I never knew at all.”

My heart falters. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her eyes shine in the moonlight. “Cause the Christian I know would never hurt me like this.”

“I never meant to hurt you.” I reach my arms out, but then drop them. No matter how much I want to touch her, that would be selfish right now.

“And yet you did.”

My heart crashes to the ground, bursting into flames. I imagine smoke pluming around us. “I wanted this to work. I really did.”

“That’s such a cop-out.” She shakes her head.

It angers me. It’s so easy to point fingers, to shift blame, but she has no idea what I’ve been through. How hard all of this has been for me. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to be rejected by your dad? Not one time or two times.” My voice is rising, the strap from my bag slipping from my shoulder. I shove it back up and continue. “No. He rejected me my entire life, and now he’s gone. I’ll never have the chance to talk to him, to tell him how I feel. Do you get that?”

She nods subtly, her lower lip trembling slightly. And I feel like a jerk. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with her, but I need to make her understand.

Biting down on her lip, she composes herself. “I do get it. I know your dad hurt you. I know he never chose you, but someone else did. Olivia gave up everything for you. She was disowned, ostracized, ridiculed. All because she chose you, Christian.”

Emotion rises in me at her words, and I swallow it down, not wanting to feel it.

“And she’s not the only one. Cal chose you. My parents chose you.” Her eyes crash into mine. “And I chose you.” She pauses, holding my gaze steady. “I still do.”

I want her. Lord knows I want her. More than anything. But I can’t hurt her anymore. I can’t pull her back only to push her away again. How do I make her see that I’m doing this because I care about her?

I put my hand over my heart. “There’s something missing in here now. It’s like a part of me died with him, and I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

One eyebrow cocks. “Do what?”

“This.” I point between us. “I don’t know how to open myself up to you.”

When she smiles, I’m surprised. Then she steps toward me, placing a hand on my waist, and I’m downright stunned.
What the hell is she up to
? I should draw back, but I stay put, rooted in place. “Don’t you remember what I said about uncomplicating things?”

“Oh, we’re back to that, are we?” I can’t help it. I laugh. And it feels good. Damn good.

She nods. Then before I can stop her, she kisses me. And heaven help me, I respond to it. I more than respond to it. I kiss her back with vigor. Flinging my bat bag on the ground, I sweep my hands up, funneling my fingers through her hair. Gripping her face between my palms, my mouth presses firmly to hers, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth. Her hands slide around my waist, her chest molding to mine. And it’s like we fit perfectly. Like our bodies were made for one another. It scares me, and I jolt backwards, our mouths disconnecting.

Exhaling, I turn from her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Will you stop?” She shouts, frustration in her voice. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop acting like you don’t deserve to be happy. Yes, your dad rejected you. Yes, he’s gone now. But I’m not, damn it. I’m right here. And I’m not leaving, so you better figure this out.”

I’ve never heard Emmy talk like this before, and honestly, it turns me on a little. Spinning around, I study her. In the moonlight her face is so pale it almost appears translucent. Her eyes are bright, her lips shimmering. When the wind kicks up, her hair swirls around her face, a few strands catching on her long eyelashes. Man, she’s so beautiful that it makes me ache. The familiar longing spreads through my chest, cracking me wide open. As much as I want to deny her words, I know she’s right.

I’m pulling away because I’m scared, but it is a cop-out. There’s no way to protect myself forever. I am going to be hurt again. And I’ll probably be rejected again. But that doesn’t mean I need to close myself off to everyone who loves me. Emmy’s here.

She always has been.

Even when I don’t deserve it.

Even when I’m an ass.

So, why am I punishing her for what my dad’s done?

“My heart chimes for you. Every hour on the hour,” she says with a wink. “And sometimes even in between.”

It’s ridiculous, and cheesy, and such an Emmy thing to say.

And it’s the final straw.

Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her to me. “That was maybe the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Eh, my mom’s the writer. Not me.” She smiles, her hands fluttering over my chest.

“What kind of ending do you think she’d write for you and me?”

“One where you stop running,” she says simply.

“Do you think that’s possible for a guy like me?”

“I think anything’s possible,” she answers.

I nod, wanting desperately to believe her.

****

“Are you nervous about your first official game of the season tomorrow?” Emmy asks.

“No.” Staring up at the black night sky, I reach for her hand, knotting our fingers together between us. We’re lying on a blanket in the middle of the Prairie Creek Panthers baseball field. I wanted some time alone with my girl tonight. With the season approaching, I’ve been working hard and once the season starts, I’m only going to get busier. We discussed having a picnic out by the lake, but it’s too cold, so we opted for the next best thing. The stadium lights are off, so it’s dark except for the moonlight. Frankly, it’s perfect.

“Really?” She sounds doubtful. “But you always get nervous before a game. I know Cal’s super nervous. Not like he’ll admit it, but I can tell.”

She’s right about Cal. I was with him earlier today and he was super intense. Of course he’s always intense when it comes to baseball. And there’s a lot riding on him this season. A lot riding on all of us actually. I was kind of surprised he didn’t get upset with me when he found out I planned to go out with Emmy tonight. He said he was going to turn in early, get a good night’s sleep. But he encouraged me to hang out with his sister.

In fact, his exact words were, “She helps you get your head on straight.” Then he laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought Emmy would have a calming effect on anyone, but I guess she does.”

Smiling at the memory, I roll my head to the side, studying Emmy’s profile. “No reason for me to be nervous because I’ve got my good luck charm right here.” Squeezing her hand, I flash her a grin. When she smiles back, I marvel at how far we’ve come. It seems crazy that a couple of weeks ago, I was avoiding her.
Avoiding this
. Contentedness washes over me. With Emmy I feel a peace I’ve never experienced before. I feel whole. I feel accepted. I feel cared for. And it makes me feel like an idiot for trying to run from it.

Her face upturned, she stares at the sky.

“How many stars have you counted?” Hundreds of twinkling lights are splashed across the inky canvas. She’s probably having a field day right now.

“One.” Her neck swivels, her eyes catching mine.

I raise my brows. “One?”

She nods. “Yep. There’s only one star I’ve been focused on tonight. It’s the brightest one out here.” Disconnecting our hands, she hoists herself up on one elbow, her gaze crashing into mine. “You.”

My heart flips in my chest. I roll onto my side and reach for her. Curving my palm around her waist, I scoot her closer. Then I gently cover her lips with mine. After kissing her fruit scented lips softly, I draw back. “Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me.”

“I’ll never give up on you, Christian.” Lifting her hand, she lightly touches my face. Her words are powerful, and her touch is healing. As her face nears mine, I know I’ll be okay. Emmy is mending my broken heart one crack at a time. She’s erasing my pain, stroke by stroke. And one day I know it will be gone for good.