“You have the opportunity to nail a ton of pussy.”
“There’s only one I’m concerned with.”
“Eyes ahead,” he murmurs and steps into the house.
Again, my brother is my biggest confidant, and he’s probably equally as terrified as I am about me coming into contact with Ella again.
“Well, well, you must be our new third base.” A guy with a long dark beard and track pants hanging off his hips enters the living room.
If I had to guess, the redhead is his.
“Don’t mind the beard. It’ll be gone starting hell week.” He holds his hand out to me. “Oliver, first base.”
“Crosby. Nice to meet you.”
My brother clears his throat next to me, and Oliver’s eyes glance over.
“This is my brother, Spencer. He’s an incoming freshman.”
Oliver’s outstretched arm moves from me to him. “Hey. You hang around here, and you’ll have a killer freshman year.” He winks. “The rest of the guys are out. You’re at the top of the stairs, second on the right. You share a bathroom with Brax.”
“Thanks, man.” I walk toward the staircase.
“Hey, if you need anything, ask.” His genuine smile peeks through his chaotic facial hair.
“Thanks.” The old wooden steps creak under my feet.
“Shit, when was this house built?” Spencer asks the same question I was thinking as he walks behind me.
It’s either old, or it’s been beaten to shit between the wild parties. Parties equal fun. I could use some fun.
“Let’s get my stuff in my room, and then I’ll drop you off at the dorm.”
“I’m going to walk,” he says.
I whip around at the top of the stairs. He knows no one here, much less the way to his dorm.
“Why would you walk?”
He’s been acting odd ever since he found out I was accompanying him to Ridgemont. But, no matter how much prying I do, he keeps his mouth shut. I guess maybe I should have considered that he wanted a life away from me, one where he wasn’t the brother of Crosby Lynch. So, I’ve let the needed conversation fall to the sideline.
He shrugs. “I didn’t want to disturb you. This is a big step. I thought Brax would be here, and I wanted to be by your side when you faced him.”
“Is this the first day of kindergarten, and you’re my mom?” I throw my duffel on the queen-size mattress in the corner. “Fuck, Spence.” I shake my head because him taking on the big-brother role is my fault. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine.” A new knot forms in my stomach with the thought that I’m ruining what should be the time of his life. “Go. You don’t even have to tell people we’re related.”
The desk chair squeaks along the floor when he pulls it out to sit down. “Are you kidding me? I’ll get pussy by mentioning that you’re my older brother.” He smiles, but there’s something off and not genuine about it. “I know it’s hard.”
I sit down on the bed, praying the previous occupant was celibate and I’m not sitting on any dried up stains. I know I’m grasping for straws because he was a ballplayer after all. “It would have been easier if another college had taken me, but I had no choice. If baseball is where I want to go, along with getting a degree, I need to put the issues here behind me. I’m sorry my past is always messing with your life.”
“I’m where I want to be.” There’s disbelief in his eyes. He’s not buying my I’m-healed speech, but it’s the first day of college for him, and we’re not going to dwell on my shit. Again.
“Come on. Let’s get you to your dorm.” I leave my bag on the bed. I’ll unpack after Spencer is settled.
“Okay.” He stands and inspects the room I’ll be calling home for at least the next year—two, if I’m lucky. “It’s not that bad.”
The patched up spackled walls tell me Mike or his predecessors had a temper, but it’s four walls and a bed. Enough for now.
“I’ll barely be here anyway. Hold up, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick,” I say.
Spencer heads down the hall, and I duck into the bathroom where I find another door is open into what I suspect is Brax’s room. I know I’m right when I spot a 2005 World Series poster with the Chicago White Sox. I laugh, remembering how much he liked them. Brax thought he would be the next A.J. Pierzynski.