Pitcher Read online

  I thought I was doing her a favor.

  Thad disagreed.

  “You need to shit or get off the pot,” he had said to me as I watched the ripped pieces of paper circle the bowl Anniston had just cleaned that morning.

  “I don’t know what you mean. Is that some new millennial term I don’t know about?”

  Thad looked at me accusingly before he said the words that would forever haunt me. “You’re leaving. You’re not ready to settle down. Don’t string her along and ask her to wait for you while you plow through half the country living it up in the minor leagues. Let her go, Theo. For once in your life, think about someone other than yourself. Let her go.”

  It was hard not to throat punch him. He had a point. I was leaving, and she was staying here. Without me.

  But he had a point. I wasn’t ready to settle down, and it wasn’t fair to drag Anniston along for the ride until I got my shit together.

  So after a few sleepless nights, I decided Thad was right. I was being selfish with her. I expected her to wait for me, to be there for me as I chased my dreams. I needed to let her go and let her chase hers. Even without me.

  It isn’t something I want to do.

  It isn’t even something I’m good at doing.

  I try though, and I think that should count for something.

  Anniston’s hand nudges me, reminding me I haven’t answered her question. Taking her hand and interlacing our fingers, I decide to be honest for once.

  “I’m not scared, but I’m worried about being so far away from you. What if you run out of toilet paper and don’t have me to yell for?”

  My joke lightens the heaviness on my chest until she rolls over, climbing on top of me in a straddle. Dust falls from her tangled hair and joins the red smudge on her cheek. She looks like a wild mess, and it’s sexy as fuck.

  “What are you going to do when you need someone to hold your hand when you have to get a flu shot every year? You think one of the players will let you cry on their shoulder?”

  My eyes go squinty, and I try not to encourage her by laughing. “I did not cry.”

  She laughs. “Okay, you whimpered. Same difference.”

  Remember how I said I was an opportunist? Yeah, this is exhibit A.

  I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms, and flip her onto her back. I pin her arms above her head and inch down so I’m in her face and her eyes are sparkling in the security light.

  “McCallister,” I say on a breath, “we both know you are higher maintenance than I am.”

  Total lie, but I can’t very well admit that, now can I?

  Her chest vibrates with a hearty laughter that reaches down into my soul and stays there, pulling up a chair and making itself comfortable.

  “Whatever you say, Von Bremen. But…” She hesitates and sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth before closing her eyes so I can’t see them get watery.

  “But I will miss coaching you. God knows you need it.”

  At her last comment, she grins, and I fight the urge to beg her once more to come with me to Washington. Instead, I tickle her until we’re both too tired to talk anymore.

  Ans: I NEED YOU! EMERGENCY!

  I look at the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes are left in the lecture. My fingers tap my phone screen. If I open the text and read it, she’ll see and text me about three hundred more times. Professor Jenkins will inevitably need to see me after class about my lack of focus.

  She can wait thirty minutes.

  Ans: PLEASE, TEDDY!!!!!

  Goddammit.

  Theo: What’s wrong?

  Ans: All the girls are gone…

  Ans: They totally wouldn’t help me anyway.

  Theo: Just tell me!

  Ans: You were right.

  It takes me a minute to analyze what she means. I was right? What did I say recently?

  Ans: My pants are ruined!

  Oh. Oh.

  Motherfucker.

  Theo: I’m not doing this again. You’re fine. I’m sure you can make it home.

  I put down my phone and try to focus on what Professor Jenkins is talking about. So far it sounds like a whole lot of shit I will never use.

  Ans: It looks like a fucking crime scene, Theo! I can’t make it home!

  Ans: I neeeeeeeed you!

  Sighing, I run my hands through my hair.

  “Ugh.” I nudge Brody’s elbow. “I gotta get going. Can you take notes for me?”

  He nods slowly, whispering, “You all right?”

  I make a face like he just asked me if I grew a vagina over the Christmas holidays.

  “I’m fine. Anniston needs me.”

  His grin is slow and stupid before he mouths, “Pussy whipped.”

  I wish. Her pussy is one thing I don’t own.

  With a slide of my hand, I knock his notebook off the ledge, sending his papers scattering. He scrambles to retrieve them, and I use the distraction to grab my shit and slip out.

  As soon as I’m in the car, I call her. She answers immediately.

  “I told ya, you were being bitchy this morning,” I say as a way of greeting. She makes a noise in her throat that’s half a laugh and half a scoff.

  “Are we talking Super Plus then?” I continue, starting the car and backing out of my spot.

  Her laugh brings a smile to my face.

  “You’re an ass.”

  “An ass you apparently need.” I say “need” all whiny like she does when she’s trying to talk me into something I don’t want to do… like leaving class to buy tampons.

  “What’s my reward for saving the day?”

  She knows I would have helped her anyway, but I like to make her come off something too.

  She hums on the other end of the phone, her voice soft and quiet. “What do you want?”

  Anything.

  “Pancakes and Netflix.”

  She laughs. “You want to slum it, Von Bremen?”

  Yep. That’s exactly what I want to do today. If she’s going to drag me out of class, then I’m damn sure not coming back for my afternoon class or practice. They can all just get over it.

  “That’s exactly what I want, McCallister. Do we have a deal?”

  It’s as if I can feel her smile when she says, “Deal.”

  The girl working the register has blown me a few times.

  Maybe more.

  Her face seems familiar, but her name escapes me.

  “Will this be all?” she says sweetly, her voice dripping with a sexy rasp that gets me every fucking time.

  Except today.

  I have bigger excitement today than what’s-her-name’s wide jaw.

  “Yep,” I clip out, fishing a twenty out of my wallet and handing it over.

  If she is wondering why I’m buying tampons, she doesn’t ask. Most women who deal with me don’t. I think they all know about mine and Anniston’s relationship. Whatever it may be.

  She hands me the change and slides the bag toward me. The name tag displays her name as Nan. Huh. I didn’t peg her for a Nan.

  I smile, avoiding her hand still clutching the bag. “Thanks. See ya around.”

  Instead of being subtle, she just goes for it. “Call me sometime. I’ve missed you.”

  Yeah… probably not going to happen.

  I’ve significantly decreased my fuck sessions here recently.

  Why? Well, if I’m going to be forced to cuddle, then I’d rather do it with the pretty little blonde that sleeps with her door cracked so I can watch her get off while she watches silly rom-com movies.

  I make a noncommittal sound I hope she takes for a no and head out.

  I make one more stop at the house before I pull up to the school and park by the gym’s entrance where Anniston awaits.

  Grabbing the bags, I strut into the elaborate gym that produces no pro athletes from its walls and find the girls’ locker room, shouting, “Cover up, ladies! Guy coming in!”

  After a moment, no one screams
and I push through.

  I hear him before I see him.

  My asshole hero.

  Grinning, I step out of the shower room, securing the towel around me and pad out into the area where he’s standing like he owns the room with his gym bag over his shoulder.

  “Good evening, ma’am. I was dispatched to clean up a crime scene. Can you escort me to the area?”

  This motherfucker wants me to marry him one day.

  His stupid grin has the dimple in his cheek dipping low as if it wants me to lick it.

  Not today, little dimple. Not yet.

  Moving toward the man who ditched class to come to my rescue, I wrap my damp body around him and squeeze.

  “Thank you, Teddy.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says like he’s annoyed, but he squeezes me back, so I know he’s not that upset about leaving school or going to the drug store.

  It was poor planning on my part. Usually I keep spare tampons in my bag, but I changed bags last night and I left it out. I also had one more damn day before I was supposed to start! I hate when my period is early.

  “Here,” he says, pulling back and sliding his gym bag over his shoulder. “I figured you needed clothes too.”

  I didn’t, but I’m not going to tell him that.

  Instead, I smile and kiss that fucking dimple. “You’re the sweetest boy ever.”

  He’s not a boy. He’s all man. But when he looks shy and awkward, it makes me think of that little boy who would give me his jacket when I forgot mine.

  “Let’s not repeat that statement, huh?” He grins. “I have a reputation to protect.”

  I nod, fighting the urge to drop my towel and put his hands on me.

  I might even be willing to beg him.

  But I won’t. Not today.

  Taking the bag from his hands, I give him one last look and say, “Let me change, and then we can go.”

  “I’ll wait in the car,” he agrees.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “No one else is here.”

  To work on my physical therapy and workouts for the mild cerebral palsy, Coach lets me use her lunch hour and closes the gym so she and I can work uninterrupted. After I broke my foot several months ago while working out, she insisted on helping me with strength training. It worked. I’ve never felt stronger or more in control of my body. Now, I love working out and have managed to pull Theo into my yoga routines in the morning. At first he hated it, but after I told him he needed to support my butt when we did a particular pose, he got on board quickly.

  Theo nods and takes a seat on the bench in the middle of the lockers.

  “All right, I’ll wait here.”

  I take the bag back to the bathrooms to handle the “crime scene,” and locate the tampons and a receipt with a phone number written on the back. I crumble the receipt. Sorry, Nan. Theo will not be calling you anytime soon.

  With a three-pointer Michael Jordan would be proud of, I ring the trash can with Nan’s crumpled love note. Sorry, not sorry.

  When I’m done in the bathroom, I pull out the clothes Theo thoughtfully brought me. For a moment, with my hands buried in his bag, all I can think is: I’m going to be devastated.

  Devastated.

  The kind you can never recover from.

  I have two more weeks with him.

  It won’t be enough.

  It will never be enough.

  Clutched in my hand is a pair of Theo’s sweatpants and a Von Bremen T-shirt he wore in high school when he was much smaller. The man brought me his clothes to change into. Soft, comfy clothes. Clothes with his name on the back.

  Why? Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why can’t I love the Bos of the world? Or even the Thads? Anyone other than a man who has a FastPass to every pussy on campus. A man who wants to travel the world and plow through every fangirl this side of the hemisphere.

  Why him?

  Because, a little voice whispers in my head, it’s fate.

  Is it fate?

  Or is it bad luck?

  Or karma?

  Not that I go around acting shitty, but I haven’t always been the nicest person. I make mistakes, but I try to atone for them. Hines and Grace raised me that way. And maybe that’s why I’m not going with Theo to Washington.

  Baseball is our thing, yes, but it’s not my life.

  When Hines and Grace died, I made a promise I would do something with my life, something that would make them proud. I stand by my promises. And no matter how much I want to stay with Theo, I need to do this.

  Madison is my home.

  I don’t hate it like he does.

  I don’t wish to travel and see the world. I just want to make a difference. And Madison is a wonderful town to start with.

  Shaking off the sadness of losing my best friend, I hurry and change into Theo’s clothes, so I don’t keep him waiting.

  When I’m done, I find him exactly as I left him, head bowed and playing on his phone. His gaze is slow and lazy as he starts at my feet and ends with the messy bun on my head.

  His throat works as he tries for a smirk and fails.

  “You look like…”

  I make a show and give him a little twirl, knowing I look like a drowned cat in his clothes.

  “Mine.” I stop midtwirl, but he’s quick to amend his statement. “I mean my fangirl.”

  It feels like I’ve been shot.

  Really? He thinks I look like one of those girls who pine over him in his tight baseball pants? I don’t think so. I feel my face go squinty.

  Fuck his fangirls.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask, trying not to get all bitchy.

  He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Yeah. You want to ride with me?”

  Fuck, no, I don’t. Not now. I need some alone time to calm my hormonal ass down.

  “Nah. I don’t want to leave my car. I’ll meet you at home.”

  I take a deep breath and smile at my roommate. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  And making me feel treasured, only to take it away and make me feel like no one.

  He nods, turning away and heading out the door, leaving me standing with my heart in my hands and his clothes on my back.

  I’ve calmed down and put my crushed heart back where it belongs.

  In my hollow chest.

  “Do you want bacon?” I call out to a shirtless Theo who is lounging on the sofa, scrolling through the movie options.

  “We live in the south,” he says with a horrified face. “We always have bacon.”

  I figured, but you never know. Most days we go healthy. When we don’t, we always run it off.

  “You don’t have to be a smart-ass,” I return with a frown.

  Okay, so I’m still a little sensitive. Let’s blame it on my period.

  “Hurry up, McCallister, so I can hug your emotional ass.”

  His smile is what causes the flutters to tickle my insides.

  But rather than let him know how excited I am for him to “hug my emotional ass,” I flip him off.

  He chuckles, unaffected, and goes back to the TV.

  Finally, the food is ready. I load up one plate for us to share and shoo him over so I can sit beside him.

  “Mmm…,” he groans longingly. “I don’t know if I’m going to miss you or these pancakes.”

  He just has to keep reminding me of our expiration date.

  A day when years’ worth of friendship will be reduced to keeping in touch on social media.

  I don’t feel hungry anymore.

  Theo, unbeknownst to my change in mood, proceeds to devour most of the food. I just hand it over so he can shovel it in without worrying about spilling syrup on me.

  “You don’t want any?” he asks with a mouthful of pancakes.

  I shake my head. “Did you find anything for us to watch?”

  He eyes me curiously and sets the plate down on the coffee table.

  I watch him watching me, both of us quiet and dissecting.

 
; Finally, he sighs long and pained before pulling me down on top of him, allowing me to burrow into the crook of his arm. My breath fans across his nipple, and I see chills break out along his chest.

  “Are you cold?”

  His scolding stare says all it needs to.

  Someone else in this house is sensitive.

  Ignoring my grin, he snatches the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and covers up his chest, almost smothering me in the process.

  I chuckle, perking up tremendously.

  But then he turns on a recorded baseball game of our favorite team, and I decide not to be sad that we won’t be able to do this much longer and, instead, enjoy today.

  I wake with a start.

  Giggling is coming from the living room.

  I’m not a psycho.

  I’m not.

  I’m jealous.

  I know it’s irrational. Trust me, I’ve been in this situation time and time again.

  It never gets any easier.

  Never.

  Climbing out of the bed, I tell my rational self to fucking chill. Just because Theo spent the afternoon with me, holding me in his arms and dragging those long fingers down my spine does not mean he can’t get a quickie in our living room.

  I mean, I’ve seen it before.

  Many, many times.

  So why am I shucking off my pants, leaving myself in his T-shirt and underwear, as I head out into the open area?

  Because I’m a closet asshole.

  “Don’t mind me.” I wave off, covering one side of my face in a show of giving them privacy. “I just need to use the bathroom.”

  It could be true.

  “Oh God, I forgot you had a roommate,” the girl of the night adds.

  I drop my hand so I can glare at her when I catch Theo’s gaze in the lamp light. His cheek twitches as he peels himself off the bottled blonde. He scratches the side of said cheek with his middle finger, and I almost smile.