Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,100
asks.
“You take it right.”
“I know you said you’d share, but I think you deserve your own.” He pulls out a sharable size bag of Skittles from his pocket and hands it over to me.
My arms wrap around his head, and my head dips under his hat to kiss him again.
He slows the kiss, and his lips maneuver to my ear. “Tonight, I want to see you in only the sweatshirt.”
“Done,” I whisper back. “I’ll sprinkle myself with Skittles, too.”
“Perfect.”
“Lynch, get your ass down here!” Coach Lipton screams.
We break apart.
“Miss Keaton,” Coach acknowledges me.
“Hi, Coach.” I wave my hand.
“I’d better go. Meet me at the usual spot.” Crosby briefly kisses me and jumps down from the railing.
“Always.”
Minutes later, the Beltline Stadium is quiet except the crackling of the announcer’s microphone.
“Now, first up to bat, is Beltline’s very own, Crosby Lynch,” he says and the crowd claps.
For the rest of the night, I am blessed to watch my favorite ballplayer play on his favorite field with his favorite fans—the town of Beltline.
Join Michelle’s newsletter to be the first to know when Braxton Brentwood’s story, Stealing Home, will be released.
eepurl/O0v4n
Turn the page for a sneak peek to another one of Michelle’s books, Love Surfaced, a brother’s best friend story.
Love Surfaced Sneak Peek
“Piper.” He hesitates before joining me down on the cement stoop. I question why he even searched me out, although it’s been his M.O. lately. Popping up wherever I am. He places his arm across my shoulders and pulls me into him, which only brings a ripple of warmth to the pit of my stomach. “Come here.” My head burrows in his strong chest and his hand soothingly roams up and down my back. I sink into him, the tension in my shoulders of placing fifth in my swim meet slowly releases with the comfort of his arms.
Refusing to let him make my mind race with his confusing affection, I sit up. Swiping the tears from my eyes, I honestly confess, “Tanner, it was my last shot.” He begins to shake his head, but I interrupt him, “No, I have to realize it, my dream of swimming in the Olympics is over.” I rise to my feet, and the heaviness in my chest sinks back into place now that I’m out of his embrace.
He follows me over to the oak tree, coming up behind me, and my pulse races into overdrive when his hot breathe tickles my neck. My body’s response only reminds me how bad I want him. Why does he keep leading me on? He continues to only toe the line between friendship and more, but never actually steps over it. Each time his hand brushes mine, or his eyes search me out, my heart stops beating for a moment, hoping this is it—until he crushes the fluttering butterflies and steps away. I close my eyes from the view of Michigan University’s football stadium because I need to calm my insides. “Why are you here?” He should be with my twin brother, preparing for their own meet. “You should be in warm-ups.” His hands land on my shoulders and he leans down, causing a tingling to spread across my body at our connection.
“I saw you leaving the pool house,” his voice cracks and I hear his deep intake of breath.
“That’s not what I’m asking, Tanner.” When I turn around, I almost collapse when I’m face to face with this gorgeous guy. Absolutely, one hundred percent, the perfect male. My perfect male. His brown hair is tucked away in his MU hat flipped backwards, his lips and cheeks are rosy from the early spring chill in the air. With only a sweatshirt and track pants on, he’s the epitome of a college student. His good looks remind me of the unbearable yearning that pulls me toward him.
His eyes are so transparent, I can see the torment of his inner turmoil from our situation, meaning nothing has changed for him. He’s as conflicted as ever because I’m his best friend’s sister.
“I don’t know.” His voice is soft, caressed with the sweetness he’s been with me the last few months. My stomach drops at his words. I want to grab his face with my hands and beg him to admit that the small seed of attraction has grown over the years and we can’t dodge around it any longer. But, I stand there, with my hands to my sides, silently pinning for the day he acknowledges our desire.
“Then that’s a problem.” My heart