Pitcher Read online

  Before I realize what I’m doing, I agree. “I’ll talk to my grandfather.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I ignore the fluttering feeling when he calls me his girl. Instead, I smack the ball from his grip and dribble up the driveway before he can catch me.

  This friendship is either going to be a huge disaster or one of the best mistakes I’ve ever made.

  Turns out, it’s both.

  Four years later…

  Wary glances are cast my way as I push past the guests without an excuse me. These nosey motherfuckers should be grateful I checked my attitude at the door. My purpose here is not to kiss ass or show the good people of Madison what a respectable young man I can be today.

  Hines and Grace were family.

  I came here to pay my respects, and to get my girl. “Did you find her?” With no greeting, my brother gives me a worried look as we pass each other through connecting hallways.

  I swipe a hand through my hair—not having a hat on feels strange. “No.”

  I force out a breath, my eyes scanning the mass of people for any sight of her.

  “You don’t think she…” Thad trails off, afraid to finish his question.

  “She wouldn’t do anything stupid.” The confidence in my voice is fake. I don’t know what is going through Anniston’s head today. The only family she had is dead.

  Her mother.

  Her father.

  And now both of her grandparents.

  Two days before she walks the stage as salutatorian for our High School, Anniston McCallister will smile at two empty seats in the crowd.

  She’s all alone in this world.

  My heart pounds in my chest as panic settles in.

  “Keep looking,” I bark at Thad, pushing past him. I don’t give a fuck if we’re at a wake or not. Ans needs us, and if I have to upend this entire funeral home to get to her, I will. Consequences be damned.

  “Check the caskets if you have to,” I add, totally serious, before blazing through the crowded hallway on the hunt for my girl.

  I shouldn’t have let her drive herself. Anniston was insistent she would be fine and there was no sense in me going out of my way to come get her. She promised to wait for me in the parking lot, but when Thad and I arrived, she was nowhere to be found. The funeral home director said he spoke with her soon after she arrived before excusing herself.

  She hasn’t been seen since.

  Two women ease out of the bathroom with frowns, catching my attention. “Is she in there?” I ask the younger one who looks back at the closing door. I don’t need to clarify who she is; they know. Anniston McCallister is the only granddaughter of Hines and Grace McCallister. In a small town, everyone knows about her tragic entrance into this world. And now everyone knows how a tragic car accident left her the sole heir of their plantation.

  “Yeah,” the gray-haired woman breathes out. “She’s not speaking to anyone.”

  I don’t give her time to finish or thank her. I shove past them into the ladies’ bathroom. Ms. Tate, a teacher from the public school that my father finally allowed me to attend, is standing at the stall door trying to coax Ans from the stall. “Sweetheart,” she coos, “can you open the door?” When she spots me, she slides to the side, making room.

  I rattle the handle. “McCallister, open the door.”

  I hear a muffled cry like she’s been holding it in and hearing my voice popped the seal.

  “Please, sweetheart, open the door.” Ms. Tate’s voice is soothing, but it’s not what my girl responds to.

  With a hand to her shoulder and a reassuring smile, I thank her for trying. She looks confused at my dismissal but takes the hint and leaves. When we’re alone, I open the stall beside the one Ans has barricaded herself in and step up on the toilet to peer over the stall. On the bathroom floor, curled up in the corner and hugging her knees, sits my girl—the only person in this world that I can’t live without. The ache in my chest feels like I’ve been hit by a pitch, a stinging sensation only an ice bath will soothe.

  “Open the door, Ans, or I’ll climb over.”

  She never looks up, but her head jerks in a firm no, making the soft curls bounce along her black dress.

  I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Have it your way,” I warn, already hoisting my body weight on the divider. Both legs sweep over the side of the wall gracefully, and I linger on the edge a moment before I drop in front of Anniston. “Good thing you’re small enough to wedge in beside the toilet—yuck, by the way—but at least I didn’t land on you.”

  My backhanded skinny compliment goes unnoticed, just like my plan to talk to her as usual flushes down the proverbial toilet. Anniston’s soft cries are swallowed up by her dress, and my stomach clenches with the fear my girl won’t be the same after this.

  “They’re gone,” she mumbles, never looking up. “All these people keep telling me to call if I need anything.” She hiccups, finally lifting her head up to meet my gaze. Blue eyes, swollen and streaked with harsh red lines, blink back at me. “But what I need, nobody can help me with.” I squat down and reach for her when she continues. “I have no one anymore.”

  I snag her arm and pull her along the floor and wrap her in a bruising hug. “That’s not true,” I promise with something clogging my throat.

  She cries into my shirt.

  “You have me, Ans. You’ll always have me.”

  I swear it. She’ll never be alone. Her cries become harsher, and I hear the door to the bathroom open and close quietly.

  “Do you hear me, Anniston?” I push her back and grab her quivering chin and force her to look at me. “You have me. You will always have me. Nothing will ever separate us. Do you understand?” Her lip trembles, but she nods. “Now, you’re going to get up, dry your face, and we’re going to leave.”

  She tries to argue, but I shush her with my finger. “This is not about appearances. We can come back later for you to say your goodbyes. You’re not a parade float. You don’t owe these people a smile or a sweet story. You got me?” She nods, already looking stronger. “We’re going to your house and packing your shit.”

  Her eyes go wide. “What are you saying?”

  I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m saying we’re going to find an apartment between our colleges. You’re going to live with me.”

  “But—”

  I cut off any excuses about me staying on campus to room with the baseball team by pulling her to her feet. Fuck the baseball team and the school. If they want me to win them a championship, they’ll be flexible.

  “I won’t leave you,” I promise with a stroke of my fingertip. Her lips turn down, and she fights back another round of tears.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She sniffles, the glimmer of hope outweighing the sadness.

  What she doesn’t know is that, even if her grandparents were still alive, I would make the same promise. This girl is mine. I will never let her go.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  “Who says I can’t keep my promise?” I taunt, trying to lighten the mood.

  She shrugs, vulnerable and insecure. “We’re friends, Theo. You don’t have to feel guilty. You’re destined for a life bigger than Madison. I won’t be the one to stand in the way of your dreams.”

  If she wasn’t so delicate at the moment, I would shake her. Full-on shake the shit out of her. Is she crazy? Does she not see the hold she has on me? Yeah, we’re friends, but something more has been brewing under the surface all these years. Something neither one of us is brave enough to acknowledge.

  “Don’t argue with me, McCallister. You’re moving in with me. Now, come on. The only time I stay this long in the women’s bathroom is for head.”

  I lift a brow, teasing, and she pushes at my shoulder.

  “You’re disgusting.” Her grin says she doesn’t mean her words, though.

  Pulling her close, I wrap her tight in my arms until she’s strong enough to lea
ve.

  Two days later, donned in black and gold gowns, Anniston’s name is called to walk across the stage. I see her rise, holding her head up high like she can take on the world alone.

  But she doesn’t need to because she has me.

  And grudgingly, Thad.

  I jump from my seat, ignoring the scolding look from the assistant principal, and leap off the stage, rushing into the crowd of parents. I find Hines’s and Grace’s seats before my brother reaches me, panting from rushing off stage too.

  We fist bump, standing in the chairs, blocking the view of the parents behind us. We don’t give a fuck though.

  “Anniston McCallister. Congratulations, my dear,” the principal praises.

  Thad lets out a whistle that deafens me, and I whoop and holler, catching my girl’s attention. Nothing will ever compare to the smile she flashes when she sees us standing in her family’s seat. The pride stretched across her face is unparalleled when she shakes the principal’s hand and holds her diploma up to me and Thad.

  For the first time in a week, her eyes shine bright with happiness, and I know there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep it there.

  Back to our seats on the stage, and a billion years later, graduation finally ends. Thad and I took our diplomas, waved to our parents, and then played on our phones through everyone’s speeches. Yes, even Anniston’s.

  I’d heard it every day for the past two months. I could have given it for her. She wasn’t mad. At one point, she even smiled at me before we threw our caps in the air. I could have blown off all of it, but it was important to Anniston. She worked hard through school, whereas I worked hard at baseball.

  I understand the feeling of victory.

  Today is Anniston’s bittersweet victory.

  She’s done what she set out to do. Except, the people she did it for aren’t here to witness her success. As her frown wavered from one handshake to another, all I could think about is how much we all need to get shitfaced tonight.

  “Who wants to get blackout drunk?” I ask, pulling Anniston through the crowd toward my car.

  “Me,” announces Thad.

  “Ans?” I prompt. She nods but then says, “Let’s play a game too.”

  Motherfucker.

  Thad and I both groan.

  Anniston loves her games. Not that I don’t enjoy a healthy dose of competition, but Anniston’s games typically leave me rock hard.

  “Nothing stupid,” I compromise.

  She crosses her heart with her free hand. “I promise, nothing stupid.”

  After the ceremony, we blew off invites to multiple graduation parties. Anniston had her heart set on a game, and well, I would have blown the principal if it would have made her happy.

  “Truth or Dare?”

  Hence the reason Thad and I are playing this bullshit—and very stupid—game on her living room floor.

  “Don’t you want to play something else?” Thad whines, taking a swig of the beer that Fred from the dilapidated gas station down the road slipped us.

  “Come on! It’s our last night as high schoolers. Live a little,” she encourages.

  We are living a little. Our livers are turning to mud as we speak. Anniston’s grandfather left the liquor cabinet stocked… waste not, want not and all that.

  Thad grumbles but ultimately goes with “Truth.”

  Bad move, Brother.

  Anniston nearly squeaks with excitement.

  “Is it true that Ashley Pollock had an asthma attack in the middle of giving you a blow job?”

  I almost spit out my beer.

  “I remember that shit!” I add to Thad’s torment.

  My stomach cramps remembering my brother coming home pale and quiet. I thought the fucker had been roofied.

  “It wasn’t an asthma attack,” he argues, taking a healthy gulp of his beer. “She had an allergic reaction to my bodywash.”

  Anniston doubles over, heaving and snorting like a tiny pig. I’m grinning seeing her smile. I chance a look at Thad who’s looking at her with the same relieved expression I am.

  What the fuck?

  My smile wanes as I watch him pull her close and tickle her, claiming she is being mean for bringing up that horrific memory.

  Jealousy mixes with the alcohol in my stomach, and I refrain from snatching her from his arms. Everything about Thad holding Anniston pisses me off. Maybe it’s because we are identical twins. Staring at him holding my best friend of years is like looking in the mirror. I can see the image, but I can’t reach out and touch it. It’s a reflection of everything I’ve craved from her since I hit puberty.

  I found her first.

  She’s mine. Not Thad’s.

  So I do what I do best.

  I act like an asshole.

  “You showed her though.” I hold my fist out for a bump he doesn’t return. He knows what’s about to come out of my mouth. “Her friend sure lapped up that cheap bodywash without a problem the following weekend.”

  Anniston sobers and pulls back to look at Thad.

  “No, you didn’t?”

  Yes, he fucking did.

  Thad drops his head and sighs. “It was a rough year. I was going through a few things.”

  Yeah, like being in love with my girl. It’s no secret between us. I knew the minute Thad saw her, he wanted her. He tried playing the sweet brother, but what he didn’t know is Anniston enjoyed the company of sin, aka me.

  Before his embarrassing blow job story, he pined after Anniston, always texting her, always asking her to do shit with him.

  I had to step in.

  So Thad and I made a deal—neither of us could have her. We would be her friends. Her protectors.

  Until now.

  Until I found her on the floor in the bathroom.

  “Poor Ashley.” Anniston sighs. “I’m sure she was embarrassed too.”

  She wasn’t. Two weeks later, after finding out about Thad and her friend, we discovered Ashley wasn’t allergic to my bodywash. Bitterness is always a good fuck.

  “It was a terrible thing to do,” Thad explains. “I was a dick.”

  And horny.

  And in love with a girl he couldn’t have.

  Love sucks like that.

  Anniston grows silent and chugs the rest of her beer. “I think I’ll go to bed. We need to get on the road early tomorrow.”

  To our new apartment.

  Her gaze finds mine underneath a wayward lock of hair. “Stay with me?”

  And that’s why I’m a cheating son of a bitch. After her grandparents died, I knew our brotherly agreement was done.

  Anniston is mine. Even if I don’t deserve her.

  I nod. “Go on. Thad and I will clean up.”

  She places a soft kiss to Thad’s cheek before she gets to her feet and heads toward her bedroom.

  I know the moment her door closes, Thad and I are about to have words.

  He doesn’t disappoint.

  “You asshole.”

  I flash him an annoyed look. We all know I’m an asshole. This is not a new concept.

  “Why can’t I live with y’all?” he continues, undeterred.

  Because he’ll be in my way and I need to focus on my baseball career and Anniston.

  “Your school is too far from the apartment we found,” I lie.

  Thad glares, snatching up our plates and leftover pizza from the floor. “It’s not any farther than Anniston will have to drive.”

  Too bad.

  “We only have two bedrooms.”

  We had no need for three.

  “We could find a three-bedroom,” he argues.

  We could. We could also dress in pink tutus and sword fight, but we won’t.

  “It’s too late. I already signed the lease.” I shrug.

  Thad’s face turns red, the pizza box clenched in his hands.

  “We had a deal, Theo.”

  I unfold from my position on the floor. “Circumstances changed. Don’t be selfish. Anniston needs one of
us with her. My school was closer.”

  Total bullshit and he knows it.

  “I know what you’re doing,” he growls.

  And I don’t care.

  Wrenching the pizza box from his hands, I sneer. “Don’t get in my way, Brother.”

  Thad and I have never had a great relationship. We’ve always fought for individuality and attention. Whereas I branded myself quickly, he’s struggled to figure out where exactly he fits in. Don’t get me wrong, I love the bastard, but I’m tired of fucking sharing all aspects of my life with him.

  I blame it on our mother.

  Twins are for the elite. We were ideal for her to play dress up and parade around her friends. It was only when we weren’t a replica of each other did we feel insecure. Someone had to capture the spotlight. Someone had to win. We couldn’t always be equal. We couldn’t always share our toys.

  We couldn’t be identical forever.

  And we most certainly couldn’t share my girl.

  I flash my brother a look of regret. “She’s always been mine.”

  “I think that’s everything.”

  Cautiously, I raise my head from the trunk where I haven’t been able to look away from the red pair of panties with tiny baseballs along the edges. Thad isn’t here to see us off, and I understand. Last night I basically admitted that I don’t care who I have to go through to have Anniston at my side, even if that person is my brother.

  I stuff the pair of panties back in her bag. Anniston packed everything from her prom dresses to the crumbs under her bed.

  She packed three times what I did. It’s excessive and warrants a downsize. All I did was unzip one of her bags, intending on leaving some unnecessary shit here, but I saw the panties and all thoughts of downsizing scattered… along with my brain cells. Sure, I’ve seen some of Anniston’s panties, but what I haven’t seen is baseball ones.

  These are lacy and girly. Visions of them sitting low on her hips have me sporting major wood right now. I can’t fucking help it. My name literally belongs on the ass of those glorious underwear.

  “Theo, yoo-hoo. Earth to Theo…”

  Anniston’s prompting forces my focus back to her face. Right. I need to answer her. Clearing my throat, I plaster on a smirk and pop back, “Are you sure you didn’t forget the lint from the dryer? I think we have a few centimeters left in the car if you want to give the house one more sweep.”