Free Rounding Third by Michelle Lynn Page A

Gretchen flashes her winning smile to Crosby. “Nice to meet you.” She tilts her head and gives him a soft smile.
    “Yeah, you too,” Crosby says.
    From the controls on his side, he rolls up the window before they’ve truly stepped away.
    “I’d better go up,” I say.
    “What’s up with the Barbie twins? Are they your friends?”
    “Kind of but not really. They’re my neighbors. Jen hangs out with them more than I do.”
    My hand moves to the handle of the truck, but Crosby grabs my other hand, stopping me.
    “Not yet,” he asks in the nicest plea.
    I relax back in my seat.
    “Staying in this truck is not the right decision.” I look into my apartment where Jen slithers by the window in only her bra and underwear. She runs by it fast, as though she doesn’t want to be seen.
    “Since when do we make the right decisions?” He picks up his head and looks over at me. “We still on for coffee tomorrow?”
    “Yeah. We can talk about the newspaper article. Spencer okay with it?” My hand hovers over the handle, enabling me to make a fast exit.
    “Yeah. If I were him, I’d be ashamed to share the same name as me.”
    There’s that unconfident Crosby sneaking back in from two years ago. The one who thought he was worthless and didn’t deserve a baseball scholarship to a top university. He believed that after what he’d done, he should forever live in a state of hell.
    “Don’t say that.” My hand squeezes his.
    If I had my own genie, I’d use all three wishes on Crosby. One of them would be to break apart his pain into little pieces and vacuum them up into space.
    “Regardless, he’s good, so I’d rather have my input on the story than have them saying whatever they want.” He slides his hand out of my hold and puts the truck in gear. “Anyway, I’d better get going.”
    “Oh, okay.” I fumble to search for my purse and open the door. “I’ll meet you tomorrow morning?” I ask once I’m outside the door.
    “Yeah.” His eyes don’t meet mine.
    “Okay, see you then.”
    “Yeah.”
    I step back, and Crosby barely waits for me to shut the door before he starts backing up. As I watch his truck drive down the street, my throat constricts, and tears prick my eyes.
    “Bye,” I whisper right before two arms wrap around my waist.
    I don’t have to turn around to see who it is. Liam’s overuse of musky cologne signals his presence.
    “What’s up, baby?” he whispers into my neck, pecking my skin with his lips.
    There was a time when his lips on me would rush a path of goose bumps.
    “Nothing. Where did you come from?”
    I turn around and look around the parking lot, not seeing his car.
    “I walked from the lab.”
    “Walked? It’s, like, a mile.”
    “I needed the air. Who was in the truck?” he asks.
    My skin crawls from what I’m about to do.
    “No one. Only a ride back from my job with the sports physician.”
    “No one I need to worry about?”
    I swallow the lump in my throat.
    “Come on.” I put on my best act from high school drama club and he buys it. Not that he has reason not to.
    “Nice. Glad my girl didn’t have to walk.” He leads me toward my apartment, securely holding my hand in his. There’s no surge of electricity in our linked hands.
    “I’m used to walking miles, but you…” I glance down at his loafer shoes. “Your feet must be killing you in those.”
    He looks down, like he doesn’t remember what he’s wearing. “I’d go through all the blisters and pain again for you.”
    When he yanks me to him, I tumble into his chest.
    “What a knight,” I comment. I open up my apartment door that was unlocked. “Jen!” I scream over her blaring music.
    She stumbles in, buttoning up her shirt. It’s about to pop a button at the breast level.
    “What?” She disregards Liam, like usual.
    “You left the door unlocked. You have to be more careful.” I flick the lock behind us.
    She shoots me a lazy salute. “Ten-four, Mom.”
    “Hey, Jen,” Liam