Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,48
the first year at Millcreek, I didn’t want any happiness in my life. I drank a lot, barely attended class, and ditched practices. One morning, I woke up in my own vomit. I figured, either I live my life or kill myself because I wasn’t doing much living.”
She thrusts herself into my arms, hanging on like a koala. “Oh my God, Crosby. We were so stupid to separate. What were we thinking?”
“We were young, and, hey”—I draw back, giving her a reason to unleash my shirt from her fingers—“you’re the reason I straightened out my life. I just never thought it’d be so hard to see you again.”
Darkness clouds her eyes. “Do you still see what you told me that night?”
I rack my brain because I only remember breaking my heart that night.
“You only heard the screams, saw the blood—”
I place my finger over her lips. “No. I meant, memories of us, all together, just make that guilt from what was taken away from us hit me hard.”
“What about now?”
My hands mold to her hips, scooting her closer to me. The smell of her perfume permeates the air around us.
“I want to move on. With you,” I say.
I inch forward, and her fingers dig deeper into my shoulders, keeping me at a distance. She says nothing, but her clear blue eyes are swimming with apprehension. Maybe she’s the one not ready yet.
She leans in, kissing me on my cheek. “Thank you for trusting me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“It’s easy when it comes to you,” I say.
A slow grin lifts her lips.
“Will you spend the night? I’m not ready yet, but I want to feel you next to me tonight.” She stands, leaving my lap empty, and she offers me her hand.
“I’ve waited years to cuddle with you.” I wink, accepting her hand.
Chapter Twelve
Ella
It’s been one whole week since Crosby trusted me enough to share the details of the night of the accident. He held me to his body the entire the night, but his hand never ventured further than my stomach.
We’ve planned two dates that got postponed due to practices and my study sessions. He’s agreed to go slow with me. If only my body was on board with my mind.
Crosby: Sunday night. Me and you. Dinner and fun.
I stare down at Crosby’s text as the train whizzes by cornfields and farms. The scenery from where I grew up reminding me of my conversation with Crosby. Our paths apart were similar.
My year of therapy didn’t cure me. I could leave photos of Kedsey and Noah up on my dresser. I could even talk about them again.
Then, Crosby Lynch returned to my life after two years, and all that grief and guilt has rushed back like a tsunami to a remote island. I’m deserted in the ocean, tumbling in the waves, grasping for anything to hold. If that isn’t bad enough, my sister’s roommate has posted pictures of herself at the baseball game. Instagram shows her kissing Crosby’s cheek, and then someone else has his hands on her hips. It hurts, but if I’ve learned anything from when I dated Crosby in high school, it is that I can trust him. If he’s pursuing me, then he’s not interested in anyone else. That is something I never question.
If the people in this town saw him this past week, after he relented and shared with me the terror that continues to haunt him, they’d be surprised on how far he’s come. He’s flirtatious in his texts and those eyes that held the most wicked of thunderstorms, now resemble parting clouds with a stream of sun shining through. My stomach flutters from the possibility we’ll get over this hurdle.
Me: Fun?
Crosby: With a stick and ball.
Me: And a hole?
Crosby: Check mark for you, genius.
Me: Where exactly do we have this fun with a stick, ball and hole?
Crosby: Why, where else? Adventureland Miniature Golf.
My hand falls to my chest and I giggle. The woman in the next row with a sleeping baby shoots me a death glare.
Crosby: U have a very dirty mind.
Crosby: UR ready to take advantage of me.
Crosby: We promised to take things slow. Remember?
Me: Oh, we’ll take all the time u need.
Crosby: Not too long.
Crosby: Right?
Me: Idk, time will tell.
Crosby: Shit, gotta go.
Crosby: Coach is screaming.
Me: Go, ttyl.
The train stops at Beltline, and looking out of the window, I catch sight of my mom talking alongside a few other women who work at the bakery nearby.
She’s adorable in her jean capris