Chapter Six

Aaron

 

My thighs burned. Sweat poured down my back. Heat seemed to rise from the ground and someone was cutting grass. This was my favorite thing in the entire world. The smell. The air. The motions. It calmed me when the world seemed to spin faster.

“Get your head out of your ass. Take more. Move faster. Let’s go!” Coach barked at me. I didn’t have time to react before I heard the spin of the ball coming at me. I didn’t think. I reacted.

I dove to the right, trapping the ball in my glove and whipping it to first from my knees. He nodded in approval and I ate it up. A nod was enough from him—it was practically a standing ovation.

“Nice one,” Jeff yelled from behind home plate, adorned in his catching gear. “Keep that shit up next game, eh?”

“Ten dollars I will,” I shouted back, the guys around me laughing. They all knew Jeff and I were friends, but they also knew we gave each other shit any chance we got. “Let’s amp it up. For every pass ball you get, you have to call me Captain.”

“Fuck that.”

“Gentlemen! Unless you want to run the rest of practice, focus,” Coach hollered, bringing us back to the present. Jeff and I shared a look, though. The bet was on. We took hundreds of grounders and ran through plays I had dreamed about since I was six. Sweat poured out of us as the Midwestern sun and humidity did its damage. By the time we’d finished practice, I’d passed exhaustion hours ago.

“I’m so fucking thankful we got the weekend free. I needed those three days.” Jeff put his hand on my shoulder and patted me in his motherly way. He took the team captain role to heart and, although I would never tell him, I admired the hell out of him. His upbeat attitude kept our team together. “You did good, Hilly.”

“Thanks. I felt fucking good.” I chugged a water and saw Tanner walking up to us. “How’s your arm doing, Tan?”

“No pinching. No pain. I’m all good, baby!” His grin took up his entire face and he looked way too damn chipper after the killer of a practice we’d just had. “I’m ready to party and start my junior year with a bang.”

“Yeah? What you thinking?” Jeff looked on, a smile forming. “It’s been a while since we went to one. That okay, Hilly?”

I knew he was asking because he cared. I shrugged. “Ain’t no thang.”

“Hell, yeah.” Jeff and Tanner fist-bumped and hollered over to Zade. He was getting his arm stretched by our trainer, Nicole. I saw Callie walk by a couple of times, but she had her hands full every time. If anyone would’ve pinned down Zade, it was Callie. “Z!”

He looked up and shook his head, pointing to Nicole. We all laughed. She was a little, strong woman with short hair. She loved her family more than anything in the world and we were terrified of her. If she said no eating potatoes and one of us did, she would know. And when a player lied to her… I cringed. She would make him pay majorly for it. I heard a rumor one time that a freshman snuck soda into the dugout. She laughed while she made him run five minutes on the highest speed. She was wicked.

“You sure you’re okay with us going to a party?” Jeff asked, a little while later after we’d all showered. “I know we talked about not throwing them. But I’m itching for a drink and bad decisions.”

“Bro, don’t worry about it. My head is in a different place now. I’m good with it.” I hit his back this time. “I appreciate it, though, you asking me.”

“Any word from Coach about your scholarship?”

I clutched the water bottle tighter. “He confirmed I won’t be losing it yet. We aren’t in season. I’m twenty-one. The one picture, you know which one, can’t prove it’s me. If I have a slap on the wrist, I’ll be suspended for a third of the season.”

His eyebrows came together tight, as if he was in pain, and I felt a sense of loyalty that couldn’t be faked. “God. I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“I’ve accepted what it is.” I lied. I still slept like shit and thought about saying fuck it every second. “I’ll hang with Greta tonight. You guys go out.”

“Okay, well, catch ya later, man.” He took off and I laughed. His attempt at finding a girlfriend had blown up and it was funny as hell. He didn’t realize a guy had to be monogamous and truthful during the process. I shook my head. What a dumbass.

“How’s Greta doing? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Tanner snuck up behind me as I took off walking. He was always such a quiet guy, despite his size.

“She’s the same.” I turned to him with an eyebrow raised. Greta, Tanner and I had been inseparable freshman year and now it seemed it was just Greta and me. Tanner was a brother from another mother, but he’d distanced himself and I had no idea why or how to ask about it. My drama made everything worse, and a tinge of regret filled me.

“I meant, how is she doing with everything?”

I nodded, understanding his words. The fake arrangement. The third day of being in a fake relationship with Greta, our spunky third musketeer. “I haven’t seen her since Saturday, actually. I’m stopping by the bar tonight. I think she’s handling it well.”

He didn’t reply, instead twisting his mouth into a grimace. Then his expression changed and a smug smile appeared. “You used to fuck with the Kappas, right? Should I head to their summer bash or Thetas?”

“Tough call.” I thought about the last two years, how I’d acted and how I’d used my baseball status to hook up. God, I suck. “Kappas were clingy but easy on the eyes. Real easy. Thetas know how to drink, man. What kind of night are you wanting?” Our normal banter came back like nothing had changed. I went with it. I had enough shit going on in my mind that I couldn’t afford to worry about friendships.

“Like I need to say it? No promises, no relationships. I have all this energy and I want to release it.” He clapped his hands with a whistle and his gaze followed the girls who walked by us. “Damn. They were… Damn.”

“Must be getting close to move-in day.” I, too, had an energy I couldn’t explain even though my body had nothing left to give. It was a different type of energy. The kind I used to get the year before that caused me to party my ass off and sleep with anyone. I needed to get some control. I barely grasped it now.

“Hell, yeah it is. New girls, new meat. I can’t wait to explore the options. Man, I’m realizing that I didn’t take enough advantage of my baseball status the past two years, like you.”

“Pretty sure we have. Multiple times. Remember those girls who flashed us for no reason? That was great.” I closed my eyes, picturing it. “They were fucking hot.”

“Didn’t you sleep with two of them that night?” He laughed when I nodded. “Damn, you’re a dog, Aaron.” Yeah, I used to be.

Tanner and I played videogames for a good three hours before they began prepping to head to the party. I chose to run some errands but thought about Greta. I called her, even though I knew she hated phone calls.

“This better be good, pookie,” she answered, her annoyance clear as day.

“Hey to you, too, Pita.” I smiled, picturing her flipping me off. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to run to the store with me. I’m running to get some food and shit. I know you don’t have a car.” I stayed in Park, waiting to see what direction I needed to head.

“Damn it. I hate it when you’re nice and I’m the asshole.” She covered the phone and said something to whoever she was with. “Sure. I could use some things.”

“Where you at? Home?”

“I’ll text you the address. Bye.”

I waited for a text to pop up and seconds later it did. Odd. I had never been to that area of town before and couldn’t wait to bombard her with questions. If she was somewhere dangerous again, I swore I’d lose it. My fingers hurt, I pressed so hard on the wheel. I’ll kill her. I mean it, too.

I followed the directions to an old music shop and nodded in understanding. She was here for the guitar parts and what not. I knew she had been wanting one for a while and I felt bad I hadn’t thought to get her one.

I texted her to come out, but I saw her through the window. She stood, confident as hell, her blonde locks hanging in loose curls down her back. I always thought hers was beautiful. I loved hair on women, the longer and curlier the better. It was a weakness of mine and about the only thing that differentiated girls for me. I was seconds away from honking when I saw a tall figure approach her. She smiled up at him and he bent in for a hug. His hands went around her to stay right above her ass.

Two things flew through my mind. The first was who the fuck is this guy? The second, why do I want to punch his face? My grip tightened on the wheel and I took a deep breath, envisioning how good it would feel to sock him. This made zero fucking sense. I didn’t have time to react before she burst through the door with a wide smile. My eyes stayed on the guy, though.

“Hey, Hilly.” Her voice was a little breathless and her cheeks a little red. “Thanks for inviting me along. You know I always put off groceries until the last minute.”

“Sure.” I had no fucking reason to be mad at her. It was a hug. A fucking hug. I cleared my throat, forcing the irritation out of it. “What were you up to?”

“Ah, yes. The reasonable question. Let’s see…remember me saying a mutual friend owned a music shop?” She pulled her legs up so her arms were around them. She could fit about anywhere with her tiny build and I guess I’d never noticed before how small she was.

“Sure.” I racked my brain, not sure what she was talking about, when it hit me. “Wait. Yes. I recall that conversation. You found a nice guitar?”

“Yes.” She bit back a laugh and I looked over at her quickly. “I can come get it in two days. My fingers are dying to play. Did I tell you I played again Saturday?”

“Yeah?” I kept my eyes on the road, but glanced at her at the lights. Whenever she talked about music, her voice rose and got all giddy. It was cute. She gabbed and gabbed about playing and how Clyde wanted her to perform every week and he would pay her. I nodded, enjoying her company more than she knew.

“So, you’ll come?”

“Remind me what I’m agreeing to again.” My muscles clenched at how obvious my daydreaming had been. She knew me, though. She just hit my shoulder and scoffed. “Gabs, you talk a lot. I got lost.”

“You can be such a fuckstick.” She crossed her arms and chose to look out of the window rather than at my face.

“Regardless of what you invited me to, I’ll be there,” I admitted. It didn’t matter what it was.

“Okay.” She paused, dragging her finger over her sandals in such an innocent way. “Maybe you’re not a complete fuckstick.”

I laughed at that, hard enough to hit the steering wheel. “Your use of colorful vocabulary is entertaining. But you insult me a lot.”

“It’s good for your ego.” She shrugged. “But I’m going to play once a week at the bar, not sure if it’s a weekend or weeknight. I’m starting in two weeks and they are going to promote it on social media and everything.”

We came to another light and I shifted to look at her. She nibbled her lip, pulling on the ends of her nails. Nervous. “G, that’s impressive.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled and cracked her neck a couple of times. “What if I suck?”

“What if you don’t?” I put my hand on her thigh, its creamy color contrasting with my tan hand. I squeezed for five seconds then gently released it. “My fake girlfriend and real best friend kicks ass. I’ll be at every show.”

“Damn it, Aaron. Sometimes you suck and sometimes you say the sweetest things.” She sniffed.

“I’m not sweet.”

She bit her cheek and let out a small laugh. “I know that. You’re quite barbaric, most of the time. Childish other times. Annoying. Whore-y. I can keep going.”

“Settle down.” I pulled into the parking lot and waited for her to get out before continuing. “I’m awesome. Don’t forget that.”

She scrunched her nose and let out an exasperated sigh. “And sure, you’re awesome and all that jazz.”

I held the door for her entering the store. “I’ll grab a cart.”

“Cool. But fake or real, relationships are not your thing.” She shoved my arm. “I would compare it to you asking me how to swing a bat.”

“Am I that awful?” I stuck my lip out and pouted. “You’re hurtful.”

“Your ego can handle it, champ.” She smacked my ass and walked ahead of the cart. “You’re allergic to relationships. Plain and simple.”

“I might be slightly allergic to them. I hear there are good allergy medicines, though. Should we take a detour to the medicine aisle?” I pointed in the direction and felt mollified when she laughed.

“Good one.” She threw in some cereal boxes and girlie shit I had no business to figure out. I watched her take stuff, grabbing things from my own list when we walked by them. “You’re lucky we are such good friends, actually. I get asked about ten times a day about you, dude. I don’t know how you handle the attention.”

I paused, my hand inches away from snatching a jar of protein powder. She leaned on the cart with an apprehensive look on her face. My core tightened. Is she already regretting this? Am I the biggest asshole on the planet?

“I am lucky. Please know I think about it every day. I’m not sleeping,” I admitted, avoiding her stare. I vowed to do anything for her. Anything.

“Hmm.” She eyed me for a second and a small smile broke out. “Do you know what helps me sleep?”

“Porn?” I tried, a sliver of our old banter sneaking out. It was easy to be myself with her. “Nah, never mind. You don’t look the type.”

“Jesus.” She widened her eyes at me, aggressively telling me something without words. It didn’t work and she caved. “Try wearing socks to bed.”

“Uh, what?” There was no way she said that. No fucking way. “Socks won’t help.”

“Trust me. My mom always made me grab a huge pair of fuzzy socks when I couldn’t sleep. I remember these obnoxious blue polka dot ones that looked ridiculous. I wore them and bam, I slept like a little bitch.”

“Do you still wear these monstrosities?” I fought a smile. Young Greta, all legs and arms and wearing those socks, was a fun picture. “Please say you just wear socks to bed.”

“Aaron Hill. Do I detect flirting?” With a hand on her hip, she stopped the cart.

“Maybe.” I winked at her, and she barreled at me. Her hands went around my waist and she about knocked the wind out of me. “G, what the hell?”

“I’ve missed the shit out of your stupid flirting and perverted jokes. I missed them so much.”

I wrapped my arms around her small body and enjoyed her sweet scent. I had always loved women. All types. Curvy. Athletic. Willowy. What I’d never had before was complete trust and admiration for them—until Greta. I ran my hand down her back, pulling the ends of her long blonde hair. An uncomfortable pit formed and, like I had done countless times before, I needed to ruin the moment. I was a self-sabotager. “Are you PMSing? You’ve hugged me quite a lot the past week.”

She broke the hug, pushing me away. “And you’re back to being a fuckstick.”