Page 3 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

“This is good,” he says, pointing up to compliment the sound.

“I know.” I shrug.

A soft laugh slips from his lips, private, just for me. I relish it for a second before my gaze expands to take in the crowd around him that seems to have doubled. All females. Well, almost all. One guy is sitting on the sofa arm. He’s a little bulkier than Alex, with dirty blond hair, a mustache, and stubble. Clearly a teammate—he’s dressed head to toe in Tiff baseball wear.

“Hey,” I say, reaching across Alex’s chest to introduce myself. The guy’s eyes peel away from the girl sitting behind me and meet mine. His smile is nice. “I’m Nikki.”

“Nice to meet you, Nikki. I’m Brayden. You . . . with Alex?” Brayden’s finger swirls at the space between me and my friend.

“Ha! No, she’s like my sister,” Alex answers quickly.

I laugh along with him, maybe a little harder just to lay it on thick. Alex and me? Nah, that would be crazy! Right? My insides tighten the way they do on terrifying roller coasters at the state fair.

“Sorry, I just thought?—”

“Wait, so you two . . . you’re not together?” the girl next to me asks, scooting in close and leaning over my lap, the tips of her long brown hair tickling the tops of my bare thighs.

“No, we are not together,” I say matter-of-factly. I flick her hair away and she sits back again, huffing out a short laugh.

“Why is that funny?” Alex’s tone isn’t as irritated as mine. Probably because he doesn’t find this irritating. Hurtful. Hopeless.

“You guys . . . I don’t know, look like a couple,” the girl says.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Like, you guys have a vibe or whatever,” Brayden adds. My gaze darts to him, and I can feel my mouth contort with confusion. I’m sure my expression looks like disgust, but it’s far from that. It’s more like panic that other people see the way I look at Alex and have construed it into a vibe. I’m a step away from being the sad former bestie with an unrequited crush.

“Pssshh, vibe.” I glance at Alex, expecting the same amused expression I’m forcing on my face, but instead, he almost seems intrigued by the idea.

“Our moms are best friends. We basically grew up together,” Alex explains, his eyes dancing over me with what feels like a sense of fondness. Maybe I simply want that to be the case. Years of play dates, slumber parties, field trips, getting grounded together, sneaking out while grounded. Our stories are intertwined. One.

“You never fooled around? Like, parents weren’t home so you made out or anything like that?” the girl asks.

“Ha, no! Make out,” I say, following it up with a snort-laugh like I’m eleven and embarrassed by kissing talk. My skin is hot, though, so I may be a little embarrassed. Mostly, I feel like everyone can see right through me all of a sudden.

“You should kiss now. I mean, to know for sure. Don’t you think?” The girl, our instigator, sits up and tucks a leg under her body to prop herself up higher and collect more attention. My hands are pouring sweat. I rub them down my skirt then onto my bare thighs, letting my skin stick to itself.

“I don’t think we need to test that,” Alex laughs off.

“Yeah, I mean . . .” I look around without focusing on a single face staring back at me. I can’t seem to find the off switch for my nervous laugh.

“It’s college. Kissing isn’t a big deal. I do it all the time,” she says, promptly standing and walking over to Alex. Within a breath, she’s on her knees and tugging the collar of this black T-shirt into her. I catch my friend’s eyes as his gaze hits mine with a brief, panicked wideness about a half second before they close and the girl’s lips are on his. Her hands snake up his jaw, the sharp tips of her ice blue nails scratching his skin as their heads shift and mouths open. The rage borne of my jealousy boils to a flash point, and my worst instincts take over.

“I mean, yeah. I can do that! Anyone can do that,” I say, prompting her to pull away with a smirk just after her teeth pull at his bottom lip before parting.

Shit. I’m not sure I can kiss like that.

“Go on then. Assuming you’re game for this?” She quirks a brow to Alex, who seems unable to form words. The stupid open-mouthed smile on his face and bashful laugh that bubbles from his chest is all we’re going to get.

“I’m Alicia, by the way,” she says, taking his hand and stepping to the side, presumably to give me her coveted position. On my knees in front of Alex.

“Alex,” my friend manages to utter to his kissing buddy, his damn flirtatious dimples making an appearance. He looks drunk already. Half a beer in. Stupid male libido.

I place my hands on his knees as I kneel in front of him, drawing his attention to me. He licks his bottom lip, his smile shifting into a timid one. This is not how my first kiss with Alex was supposed to go. And though I only just met Alicia, I hate her for putting me in this spot. Mostly, I hate that I’m letting her. That I want to kiss Alex so much that I’m willing to use this ridiculous pretense simply to have the chance. That I’m watering down my feelings and possibly ruining any hope for a future us.

Or maybe . . . maybe he’ll feel something, too.

I lick my lips as I adjust my balance on my knees and scoot in closer. Alex breathes out a short laugh, his lips puckering the way they do when he’s holding in serious laughter. The sense that he finds this funny sits heavy in my chest.

“Well?” Alex tilts his head. His eyes lock on mine, pupils dilating as he relaxes and parts his lips. The smirk is still there, playing at the right side, inching upward to make the dimple.

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