Page 2 of Wild Pitch
Instead, I’m single because all I do is work, yet the money’s not enough to afford even a condo so I’m forced to live with roommates. At this pace, I should just marry my student loans because they seem to be the only constant in my life.
“Hope, is that you?”
I know that voice. I drop my duffel bag on the living room floor and pick up the pace toward the French doors. Bare feet pitter patter on the terracotta tiles until Amy McFadden, my college roommate and bestie, appears in all her bikini glory. Squealing, she launches herself at me as she usually does.
We both giggle and stumble, but my quads don’t lie. I hold us steady until she pulls away and gives me a once over. “Va va boom, mamacita. You look hot.”
“Pfff.” My face heats up. There’s nothing hot about a ratty baseball T-shirt, old shorts and Crocs that have seen better days, my go-to outfit for a comfortable three-hour-plus drive. Rather than explain all that, I divert the attention back to her. “No,youlook hot.”
“I do, don’t I?” Her smile morphs into a lip bite and a furtive glance at Kelly. “Did you tell her the news?”
Behind me, the hostess says, “No, I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Ah.” Somehow Amy seems disappointed.
“What news?” I cock an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant too.” Her stomach looks as flat as ever, but maybe she’s just found out. It’d be funny if my two closest girl friends from college are pregnant at the same time. And by funny I mean weird. I can’t picture the same for me right now.
“Ha, no. It’s less exciting, I guess.”
“I sure hope that’s the case.” Kelly clears her throat. “Anyway, I think the cheeseburgers are ready, anyone want one?”
Amy runs a hand through her caramel brown hair, enhanced by expensive highlights. I know that tidbit because she’s been dying it at the same upscale salon in Miami Beach since college. And for some reason, she’s now avoiding my gaze.
“Why are you two acting weird all of a sudden?” I ask.
“Mojito as usual?” Kelly volleys back at me instead, fully knowing I’m a rum girlie.
I tuck my tongue against my cheek and fold my arms, because clearly I’m becoming my dad and these two are acting like my brother and I when we were hiding something.
Kelly drops the hostess act, maybe even the happy act, because her pretty face twists into an expression of unfiltered annoyance. “Just tell her, Amy. It’s better that she finds out now from you than from everybody else.”
When Amy starts biting her lip, I know whatever this is about can’t be good. I don’t change the Dad pose because it’s already making them crack, but meanwhile I run through every possible scenario in my mind. Is Amy moving out of state? Or is she sick? Did her crush on my brother come back? No, that one can’t be. He’s been happily married for years now.
“What?” I all but bark when I can’t take the silence or my theorizing anymore. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Boy, this must be big because Amy takes a shuddering breath and hugs herself before even opening her mouth. “The thing is?—”
“Hey.”
We all freeze at the new voice.
It sounds just like it did all those years ago, like a surfer boy who is cool and in no hurry to show it off. Worse still, nothing else has changed. That’s the same mop of blond curls on his head, the toothpaste commercial smile, the same brown eyes that glint under the sunlight, and the tanned body that tells me he still plays water sports year-round.
Dawson.
“Hi,” I respond curtly.
And then I zero in on the one thing that has changed. His arm snakes around Amy’s waist, pulling her against him to rest his hand low at her hip. Possessive. The same way he used to holdmefor years.
No one needs to say anything else. I get it now. And however I react will dictate the course of this weekend—maybe beyond.
I take a moment to process this, even if it feels like every pair of eyes is fixed on me. My mouth tastes odd, and I wish I could wash that down with the mojito I wasn’t quick enough to accept.
The bitterness rankles deep into my soul, not just because Amy has broken some kind of girl code that I can’t formulate coherently right now. But also Dawson’s gesture is a blatant attack on the delicate balance we struck for two years.Heis the one shitting on the group dynamic, but if I make that clear by showing any displeasure, he’ll blamemefor the awkwardness that is already ensuing in my silence.
This is why I’m glad that he dumped my ass—yeah, even though I was the dumpee. It made it feel very final and that distance from him allowed me to start seeing his true colors.He’s a master manipulator and now it seems like Amy is his new victim. I feel sorry for her just as much as I’m pissed at her.
Knowing there’s only one course of action, I turn to an annoyed Kelly and hook my arm with hers again. “Let’s go make that mojito.”
