Rounding Third (10 page)

L
iam wipes
the blood from his lip using the back of his hand. “Save it. I know who he is.”

“What?”

“I saw the two of you outside White Hall.”

I glance to the bedroom door and back to Liam. He’s waiting for an answer. I’ve never told anyone about Crosby. Liam believes that he’s my first serious relationship, and I never disputed any different.

“It’s complicated.” I swallow the lump blocking my throat.

“Doesn’t seem complicated. You show him more affection than me.” Liam walks over to his chest of drawers. Pulling out a new shirt, he quickly changes. “Fuck, Ella, now the guy goes fight club in here, what the hell do I tell my brothers?”

“What does it matter? What do they care? You were the one with the slut.”

A dry laugh escapes his throat. “You know how much our future depends on strings. I didn’t pledge at Pi Kappa for their parties. I did it for connections. Those families have connections that will help my future.” His outstretched arm points to the door.

From what I’ve gathered, Liam comes from a farm county, similar to me. His parents have no money, and recently, a superstore has built a center on the outskirts of his town, only pushing their small family grocery store out. He’s here on scholarship, and he has already been applying for loans for med school. Pi Kappa is the richest fraternity on campus. Legacies are children of surgeons, judges, and international businessmen. They even have one on the Supreme Court.

“Now, this beast of an ex comes in and beats me up.” He takes his bloodstained T-shirt and dabs the corner of his mouth.

“He was protecting me because again, you were cheating on me.”

“Great. Now, you’re going to stick up for him.” He sits on the bed, grabbing his water bottle and holding it up to his lip.

“Should I stick up for you?” I pull out his desk chair and sit down.

“None of them meant anything, but tonight I was mad,” he murmurs. “I saw the two of you in the kitchen earlier. You were laughing, and you instinctually touched his arm more than once.”

“He’s a friend,” I lie. My feelings for Crosby are far from bordering the friendship line.

“Do you know the last time you touched me like that? Hell, do you know the last time you smiled liked that?”

I release a breath and stand to pace the floor.

“Never. You’ve never been like that with me.”

I stop moving and stare over at him.

“I have.”

“No. No, you haven’t.”

I move toward the window, sliding the curtain to the side, and look out. Brax, Oliver, Saucey, and Jen are all sitting on the sidewalk across the street, but Crosby is standing, staring right up at me. Our eyes meet and lock. My heart flips.

“Crosby is…history.”

“Your history.”

“My past.” If he were my past, why am I still drawn to him right now? The fact is, I don’t want to be in this room with Liam. I want to be with Crosby, in his arms, as he promises me our future again.

“Your past isn’t history until you deal with it. From what I’ve noticed, you haven’t. The way you look at him…”

“Oh, please.” I drop the curtain and take a seat in his desk chair. “Don’t push the blame on me.” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him.

“It doesn’t matter, Ella. I mean, this was going to end when we went to medical school anyway. Probably better now.” He looks over and must notice my utter surprise from his words. “Don’t act surprised.”

I never put much thought into if we’d be short or long-term. I was going with the flow with Liam. Maybe that’s the problem. I swear, I planned on marrying Crosby from the age of twelve. My notebooks with
Ella Lynch
scribbled on them are proof of that.

“Well, I guess I never thought about our future.” I shrug.

He huffs. “Exactly. Listen, Ella, I’m not sure of your relationship with that guy because you’ve never opened up about your past. When we’ve discussed high school, you’ve never volunteered information, and I’ve never pried, but to everyone in that room tonight, it’s evident that you love him.”

“No, but—”

He places his hand up in the air. “Don’t deny it. We both know it, and if you deny the fact, then you are belittling me.”

My shoulders falter.

“Not any more than you’ve belittled me.”

Do I love Liam? No.

Do I want him in my future? No.

But he’s the safe bet.

His eyes are pinned on his future. I never worried about having any rumbles in our life. We’d have lived in the suburbs. We’d have had scheduled dinners and gone on a vacation every year.

My life with Liam would be predictable.

“I’m sorry, El. I shouldn’t have cheated on you. Look, now you can be the Beast’s princess.”

“He is the better choice. I have one question though.” I stand up and move toward the door. I leave my one hand on the doorknob and the other one posed up in the air.

His face turns up. It’s red, streaked with blood, and starting to swell.

“Do I need to get tested?” I ask.

He huffs.

“According to your standards tonight, I’m afraid you haven’t been careful.”

“I’ve always worn something.”

I knew he cheated before asking the question, but there’s a sense of sadness that washes through me with his confirmation of the acts. How was I so blind to not notice?

“Again El, they meant nothing.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Neither did I.”

I walk out of his room and down the stairs where rumors must have already started because people are huddled in small groups whispering the gossip.

The cool night of September rushes a breeze over my hot-blooded body, and quickly, my tears unleash from my eyes. Embarrassment for what my friends, especially Crosby witnessed tonight.

Jen stands, brushing her ass off, about to come to console me.

I walk across the street, and Crosby stands on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for me. God, I want to run into those open arms and have him promise me that I’m worth more than the way Liam treated me, but instead, I take my two hands and splay them on his chest, pushing him back.

“How could you?”

Crosby fumbles to gain his footing and I run to Jen, welcoming her comfort. She’s not as warm and loving as Crosby, but she’ll do.

“What?” he asks, throwing his arms up in the air.

“You purposely made me see it. What did you want? Me to come running back to you? Well, Crosby Lynch”—I leave Jen’s body and start jabbing him with my finger—“you just lost my trust.”

“Ella”—Brax comes to my side, trying to stop me from the outburst—“he was helping you.”

“Stay out of it, Brax.” I place my hand up in the air, and he steps back.

“Whoa, it isn’t Crosby’s fault,” Oliver says next.

“Don’t even try it, Ollie. This is Keaton temper. Let her get it out, and then she’ll crash,” Brax hollers over.

Oliver seems to be appeased with the answer.

“How am I the asshole in this situation?” Crosby asks.

I narrow my eyes. “You knew he was cheating, didn’t you?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare dead center into his dreamy caramel eyes.

He sucks in his bottom lip, dragging his teeth over it. “Yeah.” His fingers thread through his hair, and he pulls lightly on the back of his neck. His little uncomfortable tell-tale signs aren’t getting him off the hook tonight.

“I knew it. That whole,
Let’s go find your boyfriend
, was just a bit. Smooth, Cros, really smooth.”

I flip around, and Jen’s there to swing her arm over my shoulders. We start walking away.

“I’ll apologize,” he chokes out. “Ella!” he screams out into the midnight air when I don’t answer.

Jen stops us, and I turn around.

“If he makes you happy, I’ll apologize.” Crosby digs his hands into his pockets and sheepishly looks over to me. “Is he what you want?”

Our eyes lock again, and there’s something in his gaze. It’s genuine honesty, which only shows how much he does love me. To forgo me for Liam shows how selfless he is when it comes to me.

“Well?” He cocks that eyebrow, and that sweet guy gets replaced with his cocky, self-assured side because we both know I don’t want Liam.

“Don’t worry about it, Crosby.”

I purposely don’t answer the question, and he doesn’t push the subject.

“Saucey, you mind walking the girls home?” he asks.

Saucey jogs up to the other side of Jen.

We walk for five minutes in complete silence, except for the few drunken students who pass us by on the way to their apartments.

“He really likes you.” Saucey’s head peers past Jen.

I stare at him, and he quickly slides back.

“I think he was making sure you were aware that Liam was slime,” Jen says.

“Are you taking his side?” I ask.

Her hand grips my shoulder. “I always have your side,” she confirms.

I’m sure, if I looked up, I’d see she and Saucey were sharing a look. A look that I overreacted and maybe I did, but tonight I want to duck under my blankets and hide from life.

We enter the apartment, and Saucey doesn’t seem to know what to do, if he should go or stay. I sulk on the couch, ready to drown my pity of a crappy love life in a slew of Lifetime movies. Seeing others happily ever afters should help me. Jen doesn’t know anything about my past with Crosby, and I’m not in the mood to fill in the holes now.

“I’d like to be alone,” I lie.

There isn’t anything they can do.

“Are you sure? I can run out and get some ice cream or cookies.” Jen sits on the edge of the couch.

Saucey is already halfway to her bedroom. I’m surprised he knows the way. Their whole relationship is something I need to question her about later.

“Yeah, go.” I flick on the TV, shooting her an I’m-fine look with my smile.

She stays put, contemplating, but Saucey widens his eyes toward her at the doorframe of her bedroom.

“Okay. I’ll be right in there if you need me.”

“You can bet I won’t be interrupting you two.” I arch my eyebrows, silently asking,
What the hell is going on with you guys?

She pats my leg. “If you need me, knock.”

“I won’t.”

She stands up and ventures toward Saucey, and the two of them disappear through her bedroom door.

I drown my sorrows in a Lifetime movie about a call girl who falls in love with one of her clients.

My heart aches for Kedsey, to have her arms around my shoulders, agreeing with me that Crosby is a dick. I rub my chest wishing I could soothe the pain that continues to rest there from her empty spot in my life.

* * *

T
he next afternoon
, I have a meeting with Phil Trickle, the sports physician for all of Ridgemont’s teams. Lucky for me, I get to accompany him to see the baseball players for their physicals today. I’m being sarcastic, of course.

“Ella, how are you?” he asks, studying his paperwork on the makeshift table set up for us outside the bathroom.

“I’m good, thank you.” I sit down next to him, shrugging off my light jacket that I wore with the cooling weather.

Dr. Trickle is an attractive man for his age. Maybe mid-forties, and if his charming smile isn’t appealing, the gold band adorning his left hand is, too. He constantly brags about how beautiful his wife is and how smart his kids are. He’s kind, and he has always been willing to help me with any questions I might have. Last year, there was a charity dinner for the girls’ softball team. His wife attended and matched him on the sweetness level.

“So, Coach Lipton tells me you know some of these guys?”

Man, news travels fast.

“I do, but I promise—”

“I just meant, if you’d rather not be in the room with me when I do their test, it’s understandable.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, seeing Brax, Ollie, and Saucey turning and coughing isn’t really something I want to witness. Crosby, on the other hand…

“That’d be great,” I say.

“Great. Then, how about you do the paperwork?” he asks, handing me a stack of papers.

“Sounds good.”

“You have to check their cup before and after they come out. Make sure everything highlighted is filled out and signed. What am I saying?” He smiles. “You know the drill.”

I helped him out with the football team back in August since I stayed on campus to work this summer. If I could handle those guys, I can definitely handle the baseball team.

A loud chaos of laughter rumbles on the other side of the doors, and soon, six of the baseball players walk in.

“We’re doing them in shifts,” he whispers. Then, he stands up to greet the guys.

Each one takes a seat in the chairs in front of us. The pent up breath lodged in my throat escapes, assured Crosby isn’t one of them.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Trickle, and we’re going to conduct the physicals and drug tests this morning.” He sits on the edge of the table, placing his hands on either side of his hips. “This is Ella Keaton, and she’ll be assisting me.”

“She can assist me,” one of them says.

The players in the room laugh.

“I wouldn’t let Crosby hear you,” another one says.

Dr. Trickle glances back to me.

“Screw him,” the other guy sneers.