Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,43
Jen. Jen this is Spencer, Crosby’s brother.”
She stands up and wiggles between us, wedging her butt until we ultimately slide apart.
“He’s also my sister’s boyfriend,” I add.
She stands back up to her feet and goes to the spot she left. “Damn, you have that same sexy appeal as your brother. Those seductive eyes and broad shoulders. Add the hands that I can imagine—”
“Okay, let’s leave it at that.” I hold my hand up to her face, and surprisingly, she stops.
The boys huddle in front of the dugout, and after they do their chant, everyone starts cheering as they disperse to their designated field positions.
Watching Crosby a few steps in front of third, squatting, his whole attention on the batter, brings back that schoolgirl crush. I remember how he’d wink my way with every good play, as though it were meant for me.
My attention isn’t on the game but rather on Crosby. The way his muscles flex and how his arm extends as he jets the ball to first base, getting their first out of the game. My breathing halts in my throat as I wait for him to look up in the stands and give me his classic wink, but he only squats back down and focuses on the next batter. My stomach drops as I realize that this isn’t high school anymore. We aren’t the same couple we were, and we’ll never be that again.
The Tigers get three outs, and no runs have been scored when it’s their turn at bat.
Crosby steps up first.
“They’re batting him first?” I whisper, my disbelief pouring out.
“Yeah, can you believe it? Their first game, and he’s leading off,” Spencer chimes in next to me.
“I honestly can’t.”
The Tigers have a good handful of top-notch players who will most likely get called up to farm teams or the minors once they finish school. Even Mike, the third baseman from last year, left before graduating because the Cardinals had given him an offer. I can’t help but wonder what Crosby dreams of. If this is a good year for him, he could very well go into the system.
As I contemplate our future—if there is one—Ariel walks over with her blonde roommate, Brooke. I only met her on move-in day, and truthfully, she seemed like a boy-crazed, who-cares-about-my-studies kind of girl. Someone I’m not too keen on my sister hanging around with.
Ariel gives Spence a short kiss and looks over at me. “Hey, sis. How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing great and about to bat. You should sit down and watch the game,” I dictate.
Her lips straighten before she sits down next to Spencer. Brooke is talking loudly on her phone, cracking her gum at the end of every sentence.
“Brooke, mind going somewhere else?” Spencer asks, pointing to the ball field.
She gives him a look of disgust before rising from her seat and walking up a few rows.
Crosby digs his cleats into the ground, getting into his comfortable stance.
Why are his movements sexy enough that I’m crossing my legs?
The pitch comes in fast and straight, and he swings and misses.
“Strike!” the umpire yells.
Crosby steps out of the box while my heart races.
Brax, being the great friend he is, steps out to cheer him on.
Crosby situates himself again, and my breathing locks in my throat as the pitcher releases the ball. He swings and misses again. My heart sinks.
“Fuck,” Spencer says.
I pat him on his leg. “He’s got this.” Standing up, I clap my hands. “Go, Crosby! You got this!”
As he situates himself again, his eyes find me in the stands. I smile as wide as I can and try to telepathically zone my confidence to him. He nods, a cocky smirk raising the side of his lips.
Brax checks behind his back, finding me, and then focuses his attention back on Crosby. “Let’s go, Lynch. This one has your name all over it!” Brax claps.
Once Crosby’s ready, his bat poised right by his shoulder, my breathing rate intensifies. The fastball comes in, and I close my eyes until the crash of the wooden bat hitting the ball rings through my eardrums.
The fans in the stands cheer in an uproar, and I watch as he runs to second base, claiming a double.
I bite my bottom lip to taper down the ecstatic smile that wants to sneak out.
Oliver comes up, and on the first pitch, he hits a home run, sending Crosby home. He crosses home plate, and he takes his two fingers and kisses them before raising them to the sky.