Play Safe (Make the Play #1) (5 page)

I know what I have to do.

Lifting my phone I type swiftly with my thumbs.

Me: I’m sorry too. Why don’t we just forget the whole thing and move on?

After pressing send, I hold my breath while waiting for him to respond.

Josh: Ok.

Me: We’re good then?

Josh: We’re good.

It’s not exactly a declaration of undying love, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s handing those out lately. I glance up at Ashley.

“You can tell everyone that Josh and I are not broken up.”

She squeals and throws her arms around my neck. “Oh, this is so great.”

It hits me that I should be the one excited, not Ashley. So then, how come I’m not?

A few minutes ago it was light out, but now it’s dark. It’s as if someone closed a curtain around the sun. Grey clouds move overhead, and I wonder if it will rain. Usually I would pray for the rain to hold off until after practice, but today I’m sort of hoping for a downpour. I’m not feeling it. Partly because I helped Mom at the antique store all day yesterday. She had me hauling boxes and lifting crap for hours, so now my arms are sore.

But that’s not the entire reason. Truth is, I’m used to assisting Mom. I spend many weekends and afternoons at her shop. I have for years. Mom runs Prairie Creek Antiques by herself, and since I’m pretty much the only guy in her life, I’m the go-to person for most of the lifting and stuff. Not that either of us would ever complain about that. She has no desire to be in a relationship after everything she’s been through, and the store is her life. The shop was my grandma’s before it belonged to my mom. It’s the reason we came back to this town years after Mom fled it to escape her past.

When my grandma died, leaving my mom the shop and her house, I was surprised that she didn’t even hesitate. She was practically packing up our stuff the next day. I may have only been a child, but I knew Mom had left Prairie Creek for a reason. I didn’t fully understand it then, but I do now.
Boy, do I get it now
.

But the antique shop and a fully paid for house to raise me in was something Mom couldn’t pass up. And even though things haven’t always been easy for us here, I’m glad we made the move. Prairie Creek is my home. I have a life here, and friends that are as close as family.

Which brings me to the real reason I’m not feeling baseball today.
Emmy.

I can’t get her out of my head. Not since our kiss. She probably thinks it meant nothing to me, which is my fault since I freaked out when I saw Cal standing there.

This. Never. Happened.

Man, what a poor choice of words. There were so many other things I could have said. So many other things I should have said. But nope. I had to go and blurt out the worst possible thing imaginable. The minute those insanely stupid words came out of my mouth, I knew that they’d hurt her feelings. I could see it in the way her eyes widened. But mostly I could see it in the resigned set of her shoulders, in how swiftly she shut me out.  Now she’s ignoring me. Earlier, I passed her in the school hallway, and she quickly turned her head. Wouldn’t even look at me. It’s not how I wanted things to go down with us.

Kissing her was a mistake, yes, but not because I didn’t want to. Hell, I’ve wanted to for longer than I care to admit.  But Cal’s like a brother to me. And Emmy is his
sister
. He’s incredibly protective of her, and I know he won’t like it if he finds out what happened between us.

Cal launches a pitch in my direction. It’s a curveball low and outside
.
I go to block the ball like I have done a hundred times, but it skips past me. I pop up quickly and scoop it off the ground.

“Dude, what’s up with you today?” Cal asks, jogging over to me.

I blow out a breath, wishing I could tell him. Rarely do I keep anything from Cal. He knows everything about me. More than anyone else. It’s not like we’re chicks and share every single thought, but we always share the big stuff. And kissing Emmy sure as hell qualified as “big stuff.”

“Nothin’,” I say. My gaze flickers over to Josh out on the field and red hot anger sparks. It’s only one fast glance, but Cal catches it. He’s like that. Never misses a beat.

His eyebrows raise. “Is this about Saturday night?”

My heart stops. Did Emmy tell him? Hope emerges. If he knows and he’s not pissed maybe this won’t be a huge disaster. Hell, maybe there’s a chance that Emmy and I can actually be together. I allow myself to picture it, and it’s scary how much my heart wants it. I’m not a relationship guy. I like to date, but not commit. I’ve gotten an earful about it from many chicks over the years. There are lots of reasons for my aversion to commitment. Some of them have to do with my dad and all of the family drama I’ve dealt with. But mostly it’s because baseball comes first. It always has. And girls don’t always get that.

But Emmy does. She’s lived in this world – my world – her whole life. And she’s cool with it. More than cool with it. She likes it. Even though she doesn’t play herself, she gets it. And I know she would play if she could. In fact, she tried when she was younger. Several years in a row she played rec softball. Honestly, she wasn’t half-bad. But then she got pelted with the ball at the end of her last season, and that was the end of that. Every time the ball came near her after that she flinched. Couldn’t get past it. I’ve seen that happen to guys before too. Luckily I’ve never been scared of the ball. I’ve been beaned more times than I can count, but when a ball comes at me I stand my ground. Hell, I challenge the chump to hit me. It’s why I’m a good catcher. Cal has often joked that our bodies are made of steel. He’s not scared of taking a hit either.

“I know Emmy and Josh got in a fight. Is that the real reason you took her home?” Cal pins me with a questioning look.

Looking down, I nod. Cold wind whisks over me. Pulling my catcher’s mask further over my forehead, I glance up at the sky. The clouds are still threatening rain, but have yet to deliver.

“Why didn’t you tell me that, man?”

I shrug. “She asked me not to.”

“Since when do you take orders from my little sister?”

“I don’t. I just figured it was none of my business, you know?”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have brought her home,” he says, and I feel exposed. My excuses are pretty flimsy. I need to step up my game if I want to keep up this ruse. My stomach twists.
Man, I hate this
. “And anything having to do with Emmy is your business because it’s my business. I thought we were in this together, man.”

“She’s not
my
sister.” I bristle.

“Like hell she’s not,” he snaps. “You’re part of our family, bro. You know that.”

I do know that. Ever since Mom and I moved back to town the Fishers have been there for us. Even when this whole town treated my mom like a pariah, the Fishers defended her, invited her to dinners, and helped her fix up the house and shop. Mostly because Cal’s mom, Maise, and my mom have been best friends since childhood. And, truthfully, I’ve always loved feeling like part of their family. If I can’t get a handle on this thing with Emmy I’ll risk losing that. All I’ve ever wanted was a family – a place to be accepted. There’s no way I can let what I have with the Fishers go.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Yeah, I know.” Agitated, I rub the back of my neck with my free hand.

Emmy’s lips.

Emmy’s hands.

Emmy’s face.

It’s all I can think about, but I have to stop. If not, I’ll ruin everything.

Cal eyes me funny. “What’s going on, man? You’ve been keyed up ever since Saturday night. Did something happen between you and Emmy?”

“No,” I burst out. His head cocks to the side.
Dude, I need to calm down.
I yank off the catcher’s mask and run a hand over my head. Air escapes through my lips. “I just don’t think Emmy needs anymore brothers. She’s made it pretty clear that one is enough for her.”

Cal chuckles. “Yeah, that’s probably true. And she has been carrying a pretty big chip on her shoulder lately. But she’ll thank us for having her back one day, bro. You’ll see.”

I don’t buy it, but I nod anyway as I place the catcher’s mask back on.

“So you’re back with the old ball and chain, huh?” Chase’s voice carries on the breeze.

My head snaps up in his direction. He’s talking with Josh.

“We were never broken up, bro,” Josh says.

“That’s not how it looked at the party,” Chase says with a wink.

It feels like someone is sitting on my chest, and I fight to catch my breath.

“Screw you,” Josh retorts, but a small smile plays on his lips. I know what that look is about, and it makes me want to shove my fist in his face.

I ball my hands at my sides. “She’s back with that asshole?”

“News to me too, man,” Cal shakes his head.

“Why? Why would she want to stay with him?” My heart pounds in my chest, red hot anger burning me up. Emmy’s sad eyes and vulnerable expression fill my mind. She deserves someone so much better than him.

“You know how stubborn Emmy is,” Cal reminds me, but I barely hear him past the blood rushing to my head.

“We’ve got to put a stop to this. It’s gone on long enough.”

“Whoa.” Cal puts his arm up to steady me. “I don’t want my sister dating that jerk either, but we can’t do anything about it, man.”

“Why not?” I step past Cal. “I can do somethin’ about it right now.”

“Okay.” Cal’s tone is wary. “I have no idea what’s going on with you today.”

I close my eyes, trying to steady my heart. “Sorry. I just hate that guy so much.”

When I open my eyes, Cal’s eyes are filled with understanding “Ah, I get it. This has to do with your mom.”

Not at all.
It has everything to do with the fact that I want to be with his sister, but I can’t admit that. So I bob my head up and down.

“Look, man, you’ve gotta get past that. I know it’s tough, but we have to play ball with that guy.” Cal moves in closer. “But I’ll tell you what. If he hurts my sister at all, I give you full permission to beat his ass.”

I want to smile at that, but the thought of him hurting Emmy causes me to see red. Besides, if he hurts Emmy again, I won’t need Cal’s permission to unleash on him. And no one will be able to hold me back.

“Gladly,” I say, spotting Josh across the field. When his head cranes in my direction, I narrow my eyes. He responds by tipping his head, a smug smile painted on his face. I don’t break my gaze even though my insides are churning.

“I know I can always count on you.” Cal grins.

I force a smile, but inside I feel sick.
Would he say that if he knew the truth?

Most people tell their best friend when they have their first kiss. Maybe their mom or their sibling. I told Christian. It’s not like I sought him out to tell him. In fact, I hadn’t planned to tell him at all. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell anyone about my kiss with Miles. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you want to relive. It was the kind of kiss you want to forget ever happened. And that was the plan.

Miles’ mom gave us a ride home from the eighth grade dance. The minute she dropped me off I raced inside my house, hoping to outrun Miles’ triumphant grin. I knew he was hoping for another kiss, but that wasn’t happening. The house was quiet when I stepped inside, and I was a little surprised. I had assumed Mom would be waiting up, hoping for some juicy tidbit, some sliver of romance she could add into her latest novel. I wasn’t sure if she really used our experiences as material for her books, but I imagined she did. Mostly because she was so desperate to talk to us about it. Most parents discouraged romantic endeavors, but my mom pushed us into them.

Grateful for the reprieve, I tip-toed toward my room, praying I wouldn’t wake anyone. And that’s when I saw him. Christian was sitting on the couch in the family room playing a video game. He had the sound on mute, so that’s why I didn’t hear it at first. Now I caught the faint clicking of the controller.

“Hey,” he whispered over his shoulder as he continued playing.

“Hey,” I answered softly. “Where is Cal?”

“In bed.”

“Couldn’t hang, huh?” I joked.

“Nope. He’s a party pooper,” Christian bantered back.

But we both knew the truth. Between school and baseball, Cal had been running himself ragged lately. Of course so had Christian.

“I’m surprised you’re up.” I walked into the family room so I could raise the volume of my voice a little.

“Nah, it’s still early.”

It wasn’t that early, but for Christian it probably was. He’d always been somewhat of a night owl.

“So, how was the dance?” Christian paused the game and set down the controller.

It made me feel special that he’d stop the game for me. Silly, I know, but for some reason it felt significant.

“It was okay.” After the words were out of my mouth, I knew they were a mistake. It was the first dance I’d attended. And I’d made such a big deal to the boys about going. The day before I went on and on about how I was older now. In fact, when Cal made jokes about Miles, I defended him, stating that I was mature enough to choose the right boy to go out with. I wasn’t even sure I liked Miles. But he happened to be the only boy who asked me to the dance. Not that I would ever admit that to my brother.

“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant it was a lot of fun.” My lips wobbled a little when I smiled.

“How much fun?” Christian raised his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like my brother.”

Christian chuckled. “Okay, I’ll back off.”

“Thanks.”
That was easy.
“I guess I’m glad I ran into you tonight instead of Cal. I thought for sure I was gonna get the third degree.”

“Nah.” Christian waved away my words and reached for the controller. My heart pinched a little. Clearly I’d bored him already. Light from the TV flickered over his face, painting his tanned skin in bluish hues. For a moment, I admired his chiseled features and strong jaw. I watched his fingers as they danced over the controller. Then I stared at his rock hard abs that clung to his tight t-shirt, and the muscles that protruded out of his upper arms. A lot of my friends were jealous that Christian spent so much time at my house. And I knew why. Christian was hot. I’d have to be an idiot not to notice that. Of course my friends also drooled all over my brother too, but I didn’t get that at all. “I told Cal there was nothing to worry about.”

His words hit me like a sucker punch. Why would he assume nothing would happen? Was I so repulsive that he thought no guy would ever make a move on me?

“For your information, Miles kissed me tonight.” I stood up, puffing out my chest. “Yeah, that’s right. I had my first kiss. And it was a damn good one,” I put the emphasis on the word damn is if cussing would prove my maturity. “How’s that for nothing to worry about?” I spun around on my heels, preparing to stalk out of the room in a dramatic fashion.

“Miles kissed you!” Christian spoke so loudly, I stiffened.

Whirling around, I shook my head desperately. “Shut up.”

“Sorry.” His eyes shifted back and forth.

“Cal will kill me if he finds out.” I regretted my decision to tell Christian already.

“Fine, I won’t tell him.” Christian’s eyes grew serious. “But tell Miles I’ll be watching out for him. He better treat you right.”

My heart flipped in my chest, my whole body warming. Smiling, I walked back to my room feeling light as air. It was like I was walking on puffy white clouds, my feet never hitting the floor. I’d like to say that I fell asleep dreaming of Miles and my first kiss. But it was Christian’s words that I heard as I drifted off. And it was his face that filled my dreams.

****

I wake from a fitful night’s sleep. Christian invaded my dreams last night too, and I blame him for all of my tossing and turning. I should be over the moon that Josh and I are still together. Yesterday he was so sweet. Possibly sweeter than he’s ever been. He walked me to all of my classes, even held my backpack for me. And when I was cold at the end of the day he offered me his jacket. When he draped it over my shoulders I saw the jealous looks of the girls we passed in the halls. And I knew I should feel lucky, but instead I felt conflicted, torn, and kind of sick.

It’s all Christian’s fault.

Why did he have to go and kiss me like that, effectively stirring up all of my old feelings? Feelings I had worked really hard at burying. Feelings that never should have resurfaced. Especially not now.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I toss off my covers and swing my legs off my bed.  The pads of my bare feet hit the soft carpet, and I shuffle out of my room. Yawning, I step into the hallway and walk right into my brother’s chest.

“Watch where you’re going,” he booms.

I wince, reaching up to touch my temple. “You don’t have to yell.”

“Mornin’ to you too, Grump.” He nudges me in the arm.

I stick out my tongue at him. Immature, I know, but I’m not feeling grown up today.

“You kiss Josh with that stinky mouth?” Cal curls his nose in disgust.

Clamping my mouth shut, I can’t figure out which one is more embarrassing. My bad breath or Cal talking about me kissing Josh. And what made him say that anyway?

When I throw him a confused look, he nods. “Yeah, that’s right. I know you two are still together.”

“Yeah. So?” I cross my arms over my chest.

He shakes his head. “I just don’t get why you still want to be with him. Neither does Chris.”

“Christian knows?”

Cal nods. “We overheard Josh braggin’ about it at practice. Chris was actually pretty upset.”

My heart leaps. “He was? Why?”

“C’mon, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Josh is not Chris’s favorite guy in the world.”

And with that explanation, my heart plummets. Christian’s dislike of Josh has nothing to do with me. I should have known. “Move out of the way. I need to take a shower.” Shoving Cal aside, I make my way toward the bathroom.

“Speaking of Chris,” Cal says. “Go easy on the guy.”

I whirl around, perplexed. “What?”

“He thinks you’re upset with him about Saturday night, but he was only trying to help.”

When he was rescuing me from Josh or when he stuck his tongue down my throat?
“Fine. Can I get ready now or do you have any more nagging to do?”

Cal whistles. “Dude, is it that time of the month or something?”

“Shut up.” I swat at him.

“Can you two keep it down?” Mom stumbles out of her room, hair disheveled, her eyes heavy-lidded. She wears black pajama pants and one of Dad’s t-shirts. It’s about two sizes too big and swallows her whole. Mom is tiny. She’s only five feet tall, and doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her body. With Dad’s giant shirt hanging off her and no makeup on her face, she appears childlike. “It’s too early in the morning for your bickering.”

Mom has never been a morning person. Before Cal and I drove, she could barely stay awake long enough to take us to school. And she never got dressed. Just hopped in the car in her PJ’s, white-blond hair sticking up everywhere, indentations from the pillow painted on her cheek. Rarely do I see her in the morning now. In fact, sometimes when we get home from school she’s still wearing her pajamas while she sits at her computer, writing furiously.

There’s no way I would stay in my pajamas all day. Then again, I’m nothing like Mom. I enjoy order and schedules. Mom detests them. She lives in a state of chaos and is perfectly content with it. It makes my skin crawl. Even as a little girl I’d follow Mom around straightening and cleaning up. She used to tease me about it, but has since stopped. I like to think she sees the value in it now, but most likely she’s tired of fighting me to be someone I’m not.

When I was younger, Mom tried and failed to bring out my creative side. She put me in art and creative writing classes. She attempted to teach me how to draw pictures and make up stories. But I would end up painting pages of symmetrical lines or writing out to-do lists. Finally, Mom gave up. I’m not sure she embraces who I am, but at least she gives me the freedom to be that person. However, she’s made it clear that she doesn’t understand me. That’s okay, though, because I don’t understand her either.

But I understand her well enough to know not to push her when she’s tired. “Sorry,” I mumble toward Mom while throwing Cal an exasperated expression. Then I slip inside the bathroom. After clicking the door closed, I groan. Keeping my feelings in check is going to be even more difficult than I anticipated. Every time Cal mentioned Christian this morning a million feelings kicked up inside of me like a pile of leaves on a windy day. I can still feel them spinning around, flapping against my ribs. I mistakenly thought that getting back together with Josh would make getting over Christian easier, but it seems to have the opposite effect. And I have the sinking suspicion it’s only going to get worse rather than better.