Page 23 of Pitcher

With one last smirk in Theo’s direction, I tuck my phone away and turn to the table, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the evening. Let him have a blast with Monica or Martha, or whatever he wants to call her.

“Is it my turn again?” I ask the guys. Thad nods, taking a sip of his own beer, since apparently the drunken baseball players won’t be able to score.

Good. I take the ball, eyeing the last cup on the right side and take a deep breath.

You got this, Anniston. Let it all go.Let the fact you got up at 5:00 a.m. this morning to run with Theo before you massaged his shoulder until your hand cramped so bad you had to ice it.

Let go of the fact you made him a protein shake and stayed up late watching game footage until you fell asleep, taking notes of his competitors’ weaknesses just so he would be ready for tonight’s game.

Let go that he will probably make you bum a ride so he can go back to Monica’s and get a victory blowie on her pink bedspread.

Let it go that he doesn’t want to celebrate his win with you.

With one last breath, I release the ball and it bounces with grace and lands dead center into the last cup.

Thad whoops the loudest, but it’s Bo that shocks me the most by lifting me in his arms and swinging me around.

“You are a beast!” he praises, his laughter overshadowing the groans of the baseball team.

I find myself laughing as he twirls me around and around until a sharp sting to my leg stops us both.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

Bo places me on my feet and squats down to look at my leg where he banged it on the edge of the ping pong table.

“It’s okay.” I wave him off. “I’ll be fine.”

His eyes narrow, and his hand hesitates at my leg as if he’s contemplating touching me.

“You’re bleeding.”

I look down and, sure enough, I am.

“It’s just a scratch,” I argue. “I’ll clean it up in the bathroom.”

Bo, being the chivalrous southerner, isn’t having it. “Come on, my friend lives here. I’m sure he has bandages somewhere.”

Before I can argue, I’m being pulled up the stairs and into some dude’s room. It’s clean-ish. His clothes are scattered around the floor like makeshift rugs to cover the million stains on the carpet, but the bed is made and that surprises me the most.

“Stay here. I’ll check the bathroom for a first aid kit.”

Bo flashes me a genuine smile before he taps the doorframe and darts off to save the day. You have to give it to him, even if he is a terrible beer pong player; he’s a really sweet guy. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to discount him as a potential boyfriend. I mean, what if Theo and I never become more than friends? What if Bo turns into the next millionaire, and I end up having to go on a reality show to find a man?

“I promise not to move,” I tell him, making myself comfortable on a stranger’s bed.

Bo nods, and it’s the flicker in his gaze that has me swallowing past a sudden knot in my throat.

Don’t complicate things for me, Bo. I’m not sure I can handle it.I’ve lived my entire teen years knowing exactly who I want. I can’t afford to crush those fantasies yet. I might not survive it.

While I wait for Bo to return, I chance the risk of catching an incurable disease and lie back on what I hope is a clean quilt.

“I’m not helping you raise another man’s baby, just so you know.”

The sound of his voice has me shooting upright.

Casually leaning against the frame of the door is the man who let me pee in his Yeti cup when I refused to squat in the woods when we camped for the first and last time. There were snakes, okay? I’m not that outdoorsy.

Fighting back a grin, I counter, “Who says we won’t live happily ever after?”

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