Play On - Michelle Smith Page 0,75

clears his throat. Marisa’s lips disappear, and I turn, ready to lay into whoever’s interrupting my reunion, dang it.

But it’s her dad. And her momma. And my momma. Two of the three are smiling. One’s doing the exact opposite, and his daughter’s still sitting in my lap.

I grin. “Hey, Dr. Marlowe.”

He flashes the most effective “you’re so screwed” smirk I’ve ever seen. “Hey, Austin.”

Please don’t kill me.

Momma just shakes her head, still smiling. “I invited the Marlowes to our house for an early dinner.”

Okay.

She lifts her eyebrows. “So,” she drawls, “you might want to get out of the grass.”

“Getting my daughter off your lap would be a good start, too,” Dr. Marlowe adds.

Dear God, he’s going to kill me.

Marisa chokes back a laugh, but stands. I should probably look away from her dad. Actually, I really should, but I’m pretty sure he’s hypnotizing me with that stare.

Marisa grabs my hand and yanks me to my feet. “I’ll ride with Austin,” she says, tugging me toward the lot. “See you there!”

At least one of us has some sense. I stumble after her, waving to our parents.

The parking lot’s nearly empty as we head to my truck. She swings our hands between us, not letting go for a second. I really, really like having her back already.

I open her door for her. “Tell me more about Maryland. Or was it all Orioles games and flowers?”

“Mostly Orioles games and flowers.” She leans back against the truck, her lips twisting into a tiny smirk. “But there was a pretty interesting grocery store visit.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She nods. “I ran into a couple of my old softball buddies.”

Oh. That sucks. I lean against the truck, too, just to be next to her. “I’m guessing they said somethin’?”

Instead of faltering, her smirk grows into a grin. “They cornered me in the ice cream aisle. First of all, major foul for blocking my ice cream. That was their biggest mistake. But then they thought they were being cute by saying, ‘Welcome home, runaway.’ Who even says that?”

My eyebrows scrunch together. Their trash talk is about as bad as Bastard Pitcher’s from today. “Really? That was their best line?”

I toss my keys, which she swipes mid-air. “Right?” she says. “I just said, ‘Bless your hearts,’ grabbed my ice cream, and walked away. I wanted to dump the ice cream on their heads, but, you know, maturity and all that.”

I snort. “You do know ‘bless your heart’ is basically Southern girl code for ‘screw you,’ right?”

“Um, yeah. Which is exactly why I said it.” She tosses the keys back to me. “Hanging out with Hannah and Bri at your games has its perks.”

This girl would make Hannah proud. Heck, I’m proud. I move aside, giving her room to climb up. But instead of closing the door, all I can do is stare, unable to rip my gaze from her. For a while, I was terrified she would never even talk to me again. But now she’s here, and she’s smiling at me, and she’s looking at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, which I kind of have. But I’m okay with that.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I tell her.

Her smile widens. “So am I.”

chapter twenty-four

I’ve never been much of a whiner. At least, I don’t think I have, but if I have to hear one more thing about acids and bases, my brain will explode. I don’t care if I have a test tomorrow, and I don’t care if Marisa’s voice is my absolute favorite sound in the world. One more word, and I’m talking brain guts splattered all over her room.

She’s sitting on the foot of her bed, her legs crisscrossed with my Chemistry book in her lap. She pretty much deserves sainthood for all the help she’s given me, but good God, I know this stuff now. I swear. Just make it stop.

I flop back against her pillows and groan.

She clears her throat pointedly. “Strong acids completely transfer their protons to water—”

I roll over and bury my face in one of the pillows. Huh. This smells really good, actually. All citrusy, just like her shampoo.

“—and weak acids only partially dissociate—”

I groan louder.

The book slams closed. “You know, I get the feeling you’re not listening to me,” she says. She kicks me in the ass. Literally. “This test is tomorrow. No time for sleeping breaks.”

I roll onto my back. “I know everything there is to know about acids and bases,” I tell her, propping up on my elbows. She glares.