“Hey now, Coach will bench you for a fight. Plus, I just came up with a killer plan.”
“Did you know he cheats on her?”
Brax’s face turns beet red, and that happy-go-lucky smile falters. “What?”
I slowly nod my head. “Yep. Saw him outside her apartment with a blonde.”
“Jen?”
I wave him off. “Nah. Some other chick.”
His hand runs down his face. “Tell me you told her.”
I shake my head.
He groans and leans against my desk. “Cros, you’ve gotta tell her.”
I juggle the ball in my hands, my coping mechanism calming my anger.
“I don’t want her to hate me. Let’s remember, when you didn’t talk to Noah when he told you he saw Liz with that fucker from Clement.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was blinded.”
“So is she.”
“It’s a sure win for you if you tell her. Fuck, I could kill the preppy asshole.”
Seeing how protective Brax is over Ella makes me wonder how close they’ve become during the years I’ve been gone.
“I don’t want her to think I’m telling her to make her end it.”
“Then, let’s make sure she finds out herself.”
“You want me to let her walk into that buzzsaw?” My body stiffens. I’ve hurt this girl so much already.
“It’s for her own good. Save her from the dick. We both know she’s better off without him. He’s a cardboard cutout. Shit, give me the ball because I’m going to break his nose for you and her. Now, get ready. We’re out in thirty minutes.” He saunters through the bathroom door, shutting it behind him, and turns on the shower.
A half hour later, I’m walking next to Oliver on the way to Kappa. Brax is in front of us with Tyler, who I recently found out is referred to as Saucey, each with beers in their hands.
When I was in the shower, Brax’s advice made sense, but now, this seems like a terrible idea. Then again, she hasn’t run back into my arms yet, like I hoped she would. After she kissed Noah when we were fifteen, I asked out Gianna. She was at my locker during the next break between classes, flirting her way into a date on Friday night.
I guess we’ll see if jealousy is still Ella’s kryptonite.
We follow the line of people to the door.
Those big red Greek letters nailed to the front of the house makes me wish I had a carton of eggs. How did Ella end up with a frat guy? If anyone, I assumed I’d have had competition with an athlete—no one near my caliber, but definitely a guy who would appreciate her qualities of looking like a knockout in a dress and sexy in cutoff shorts and a tank top.
Immediately, a slew of girls bombard us when we enter. Oliver cozies up to the first redhead he finds while Saucey’s eyes search.
Brax claps me on the back. “This, my ladies, is Crosby Lynch, third base.” He winks over and disappears into the crowd.
A round of oohs and aahs float around our little circle while each girl nudges to get closest to me. I smile down to them, uncomfortable with this whole act.
“Who wants a drink?” I ask.
They all giggle with resounding yeses.
One brunette grabs my hand, leading me into the kitchen, while her ass swings back and forth, slow and steady, like a pendulum. She checks back every three steps to make sure I’m looking.
The kitchen is overflowing with people. Guys are circled around a girl sprawled out on the counter, doing tequila shots off of her. A ring of people is waiting next to the keg to fill their red Solo cups with beer. A group of guys, jazzed up in their conversation, hold tumblers with liquor bottles lined in front of them.
“What do you want?” The brunette squeezes a girl out of the way to rub along my shoulder.
“I’ll get it.” Another girl hands me a beer.
Fuck if I’m going to drink it. I might be a guy, but I get my own drinks. I hold it in my hand, flashing her a smile as a thank-you.
Each girl asks me questions about baseball, pretending like they give a shit about my position. All they care about is how fast they can get me upstairs or in a bathroom for bragging rights on who screwed the new third baseman. I’ve been here and done this in my dark days at junior college.
I’m about to cut this whole stupid idea of Brax’s short when Ella enters through the doorway. She’s with Jen, and her