Extra Innings

by Michelle Lynn

  “You’re leaving?” Ethan asks.

  I want to be a bitch and ask what gave him that idea.

  I bite my tongue because he’s the one doing me a favor by tutoring me.

  “I have to pick up my brother and his girlfriend from a party. Thanks for your help though.”

  Ethan might be the only person I know who owns his own skeleton. He said it was a gift from his parents.

  “I’ll go with you,” he offers, placing his pointer on the kitchen counter.

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  “How old is your brother?” he asks.

  “He’ll be eighteen next month.”

  He raises his black eyebrows at me. “Should we go over some rules of physics?”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Why?”

  “Let’s say your brother is unconscious. How do you suppose you’ll lift him? Let’s figure out your muscle strength to your brother’s dead weight.”

  “Fine,” I say, not in the mood for a lecture.

  Ethan grabs his coat off the kitchen chair and follows me out the door.

  “I’ll drive,” he comments from behind me, on the way to his apartment parking lot.

  “No, no, I can drive.”

  He lightly grips my elbow and guides me toward his car. Surprise, it’s a Lexus SUV. Should I have expected less?

  I look over at Edith, all by her lonesome under a parking lamp.

  “You can come back after and get it. We’ll study more, so you can pass the makeup exam.”

  “I didn’t fail the test,” I remind him so that he will stop treating me like I can’t add two plus two.

  “You know what I mean.” He opens the door to his car for me and then circles around the front to his own door. “Where is he?” he asks.

  “Athlete row. Baseball house.”

  Ethan nods, and I catch a small roll of his eyes.

  “So, your brother is with Braxton Brentwood?” he asks.

  I’m not sure if he’s curious or if he’s wondering what the deal is with Brax and me.

  “I hope, for Braxton Brentwood’s sake, he isn’t with my brother. If he had a hand in my brother being drunk, he’ll have two black eyes.”

  Ethan looks over at me with eyes of fear.

  I’ve sacrificed everything for my brother, and it’s not for him to become a typical ballplayer who gets drunk and screws random girls every night.

  “Remind me not to mess with you,” he says with a flirtatious smile playing on his lips.

  I smile and face forward, not wanting to encourage the gleam in his eyes.

  We pull up to the baseball house five or so minutes later, and the music is booming. There aren’t many people outside with it being winter, but a few are huddled together, smoking.

  Ethan parks along the curb, and I get out before he does.

  Solo cups litter the sidewalk, and my small legs stretch, climbing the stairs two at a time.

  “Hold on. You shouldn’t just barge in there,” Ethan says to me.

  He’s on crack.

  “Did you think I was going to knock and politely ask to speak to my brother?”

  My hand is poised on the doorknob, and Ethan shrugs his shoulders.

  This is why we’ll never be anything more than competitors. Could you imagine if I was actually in trouble? He’d fling his hair back and then ask the man to remove the gun from my temple.

  I circle the doorknob in my hand and push the door open. Ethan follows me as I weave between people, searching for my brother or Olivia.

  When I reach the kitchen after shoulder-nudging through the crowd I see a familiar face, but it’s not my brother’s.

  “I know you,” a tall guy says with a casual smile.

  The girl attached to his side grins just as easy of a smile.

  “Hey, Chris.” I wave my hand in a small greeting.

  “Hi, I’m Ethan.” I faintly hear him behind me, introducing himself.

  “Chris?” the girl says.

  With the way she poses it like a question, I’m guessing his name isn’t Chris.

  “Hey, Ethan. Are you with her?” the guy who I think is Chris asks.

  “Yeah,” Ethan confirms.

  I release a huff.

  My eyes scan the room, but I don’t see Cade or Olivia anywhere.

  “Really?” the Chris guy asks, like it’s unbelievable I have a date.

  Screw him.

  “Crosby, fill me in,” the girl at his side says.

  Crosby—that’s right.

  “This is the girl I told you about, the one at Victor Hall the other day.”

  Ethan’s hand lands on my back.

  “Brax’s girl?” she asks innocently enough.

  My blood boils, and I whip around. “I’m no one’s girl and definitely not Braxton Brentwood’s.”

  The girl holds her hands up in the air, like we’re in the forest and I’m the black bear that just approached her camp. Except there’s no fright in her eyes, just pure amusement.

  “Okay. I’m Ella.” She waves.

  I grace her with a small tight-lipped smile.

  “Where is he?” I pose my question to the guy I now know as Crosby.

  “Brax?” he asks, bringing his beer to his lips.

  “Actually, my brother, but I’m hoping, wherever I find Brax, I’ll find my brother.”

  “So, I just want to make sure I have all my facts right. Brax follows you around the halls of Victor Hall and lamely hands you a glove, which by the way, I’m still questioning whether it’s even yours. Then, you show up here tonight”—he eyes Ethan—“with a date, looking for your brother?”

  I nod.

  He looks down to who I’m assuming is his girlfriend, and that easy smile crosses his lips once more. “This is going to end badly.”

  Ella nods and looks to me. She bites her lower lip for a second. “Last I saw, he was heading upstairs, but—”

  “Thanks.”

  I plow back through the half-naked girls dancing and grinding their asses into guys’ crotches. When I reach the stairs, I double-time it upstairs and open his door.

  I expected to find Cade and Olivia.

  I feared I’d find Brax with a girl.

  I prepared for everything but Brax in a towel with his phone to his ear.

  My phone rings in my back pocket, and I move to pluck it out, hoping Olivia is calling to tell me they’re safe at home.

  “Hey.” Brax lowers the phone from his ear.

  I see my screen is flashing his name. Well, it says, Do Not Answer, since that’s what I named his phone number.

  Brax’s eyes move from me to something behind me.

  Ethan.

  The curve of his lips turns down. “Looking for Cade?” he asks.

  I nod, willing my eyes not to follow the path my brain is instructing. Do not look at that eight-pack of abs dripping with pellets of water.

  “I am.” I swallow the extra saliva forming in my mouth before it can dribble out.

  “He’s in Saucey’s room.” He nods his head. “Ethan, right?” His eyes shift from me to Ethan.

  “Yeah,” Ethan answers.

  I’m not sure if he can feel the tension in this room, but I’m suffocating.

  “Do me a solid. Escort your girl to the second door on your left.” He places his phone on his dresser and opens the drawer.

  “Sure,” Ethan says behind me.

  But my eyes refuse to leave Brax even though he’s disregarding me.

  “Ainsley,” Ethan whispers, his hand touching my arm.

  I blink, and Brax’s focus is still in his dresser drawer. Turning around, I nod and leave the room that suddenly got a whip of a chill through it.

  Ethan follows again as I navigate the upstairs hallway. I was here once in the summer, but it was brief. Well, enough time for Brax to screw me on the counter of his bathroom. Seems like a distant memory now.

  I open the door to the second room on the left, and Olivia peers up to me from the other
side of the bed.

  “I’m so sorry, Ainsley,” she gushes, rushing to slide across a passed out Cade.

  I nod a few times, getting a view of my brother, who is practically unconscious. “How did this happen?” I ask.

  The door opens a second later, and we all turn to find Brax now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Did you invite him here?” I pin Brax with my questioning.

  He laughs, tucking his hands into his pockets, and then straightens out, becoming serious when he notices I’m expecting an answer. “Hey, Ethan, tell your girl to calm down.”

  The fact that he keeps telling Ethan how to handle me is making my blood boil, and I’m fairly sure he’s doing it on purpose.

  “Stop it, Brax,” I warn.

  Ethan’s eyes volley between us.

  “What am I doing?” Brax shrugs.

  “Don’t tell someone else to handle me.”

  “Oh, you want me to handle you? I never turn down an opportunity.” He smiles, and if I trusted myself to get closer, I’d smack it off his face.

  Instead, my fists clench at my sides. “You are so frustrating.” I seethe.

  Olivia comes to my side, and I remember why I’m here to begin with.

  “Olivia, why are you guys here?” I turn all my attention to her and away from Brax. If I concentrate really hard on Olivia’s perfect teeth while she’s talking, I won’t feel his looming presence in the room.

  “Cade and some of the players wanted to come.” Her shoulders lift slightly.

  “How did they even know about the party, much less get in?”

  Her eyes zoom to Brax, and I follow her vision.

  He shakes his head and holds up his hands. One thing is true. In our short summer fling, there’s a serious Brax and a fun-loving Brax. Even with his sly comments a few seconds ago, I know he had nothing to do with my brother coming to this party.

  “Well, what’s done is done. Ethan, can you help me get him to the car?”

  Ethan moves, but Brax snickers behind us.

  Regardless, Ethan tries to get Cade up.

  “Let him sleep it off. Saucedo is gone for the weekend,” Brax mentions.

  “No, we’ll be fine,” I say.

  Ethan moves Cade’s arm, and it falls back down to his side.

  “Okay,” Brax says, staying planted by the door, finding amusement in the fact we can’t move Cade.

  “Olivia, can you help me get his one arm?” I ask.

  “Probably not going to work,” Brax offers his unsolicited advice.

  “Well, you could help,” I say.

  He steps forward. Olivia gives up on helping, and Ethan is trying his damnedest to get Cade to assist us.

  “Okay, get out of the way.” Brax motions with his hands to Ethan and me.

  Cade falls back to the bed. I really should have limited his milk supply over the last few years.

  “But, Ainsley…” Brax comes chest-to-chest with me, peering down.

  I gulp down my anxiety of having him so near.

  “If I put him in your car, I’ll have to follow you home to get him into bed. I’m happy to assist you though.” He stares down at me, calmly waiting for my answer.

  “We can get him, Ainsley,” Ethan says.

  But we both know we’d need Brax and maybe even that Crosby guy to help.

  “He can stay, but I need to get Olivia home. Will you watch him for me until I get back?” I hate asking Brax for a favor.

  “I already told my dad that I’m sleeping at Heidi’s,” Olivia says.

  “You lied to your dad?” My shoulders deflate of anything hopeful.

  “They are expecting me home tomorrow, around lunch.”

  “Olivia,” I sigh, my head falling back, “I should take you home.”

  “Come on, Ainsley, haven’t you ever lived on the edge a little?” Brax coaxes.

  I wish I had his life. His carefree life.

  “I’ll stay in the room with him and make sure he doesn’t get sick.” Olivia touches my shoulder.

  “It’s bad enough that you lied. I can’t leave you alone in the house.” I throw my head back again, trying to gain some knowledge that will help me with this situation.

  Isn’t this why mothers have eighteen years, compared to my four, to figure out how to be a parent?

  “Take my bed,” Brax offers.

  I tilt my head.

  He laughs. “I’ll take the couch. I just draw the line on you screwing your boyfriend in my bed, so he has to go.”

  My eyes waver to Ethan.

  “Fine. Olivia, you are to stay in this room. If anyone bothers you, you come into Brax’s room and tell me, okay?”

  Olivia’s head bobs up and down.

  “As soon as Cade is coherent again, we’re leaving, so let me know when he wakes up.”

  Again, her head bobs up and down.

  “Ethan, I’ll walk you out.” I beeline to the door.

  Ethan hesitates. “I don’t much like this scenario.”

  Is he delusional? I’m not his girl, and he’s not my boyfriend. I’ve been nice, not saying that directly to Brax but that’s more because it’s none of his business.

  “Oh, shit,” Brax says. “Tip one”—he clasps his hand on Ethan’s shoulder—“Ainsley Winslow listens to no one.” He raises his eyebrows and then walks out the door but stops right before it shuts. “Olivia?”

  She looks up at him.

  “If someone bothers you, come find me, and I’ll handle them.”

  The door shuts with a finality I wasn’t prepared for.

  10

  Brax

  My ass is planted on the couch as I watch Ainsley walk out the front door with Ethan. I could go over to the window and watch them on the porch. Stalk her to see if she kisses him. But she’s not with him. I’m positive. She clammed up when I referenced her being with him. Not to mention, they never even touched. The hassling is working awesomely; I can tell from the rise it pulls out of her.

  “So, I met Ainsley,” Ella says, sitting next to me.

  Although I’m ninety-five percent sure Ainsley isn’t screwing Doogie Howser, my eyes are fixated on the door. “Don’t get all sappy.”

  She giggles, tucking her legs under her body.

  Ella is Crosby’s girlfriend, but she’s also a close childhood friend of mine. All three of us grew up in the small town of Beltline. So, she always has a pass to razz me.

  “Cros told me how you chased her down the hall.” She nudges me with her shoulder.

  “I didn’t chase.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” She leans close. “Tell me, was it her glove?”

  I narrow my eyes, turning in her direction. “What?”

  “Crosby and I have a bet. Was it her glove?”

  I shrug and catch Ainsley walking through the front door. She briefly searches the room and then heads to the staircase. Without thinking of a good plan, I pull Ella up from the couch and drag her across the floor to the staircase.

  She’s already three steps ahead when I call out her name, “Ainsley.”

  She turns to us, her eyes softening slightly.

  “This is Ella.” I thrust her forward in front of me.

  “I met her already,” Ella bites out, but I place my hands on her shoulders.

  “Hi again.” Ainsley raises her hand in greeting.

  “Come have a drink with her,” I suggest.

  Ainsley shakes her head, securing her backpack on her shoulders. “Oh, I should study,” she says.

  “It’s Saturday night.” Ella finally joins the get-Ainsley-to-stay-downstairs party.

  “I know, but my Anatomy class is having a makeup test.”

  “Oh, I understand.” Ella moves to circle around, but I stop her, turning her back around by her shoulders. “But it’s Saturday. You’re a college student. You need to blow off some steam.” Ella changes gears back to what benefits me quickly.

  Ainsley glances to me, to Ella, to the crowd, and back to Ella. �
�I could have one drink. Let me drop this off in Brax’s room.” She disappears upstairs.

  Ella turns to me. “Thanks for making me seem pushy.”

  “Hey now, you owe me.” I swing my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close.

  “I owe you nothing!” she screams, trying to get out of my hold.

  “What? Who got you back with Crosby?”

  “Not you.” She punches me in the stomach, and I release her.

  “Hands off my girl.” Crosby meets us at the bottom of the stairs and yanks Ella by her arm until she falls into his chest.

  Her eyes dreamily stare up at him.

  “Do I need to kick his ass?”

  She pats his chest, her eyes never leaving his. “Nah, he’s in love with someone else.”

  They both stare over at me with cheesy smiles on their faces.

  “Fuck off,” I say, leaving them at the stairs.

  I know Ella, and she’ll make sure Ainsley is happy for the night. Not to mention, this will give Ainsley time away from me, while keeping her within my reach.

  It’s been a whole hour, and Ainsley hasn’t gone back up to my room. She’s been parked on the couch with Ella, the two of them chatting away. Crosby’s been supplying their drinks, so I haven’t had to worry about anyone sneaking anything. I caught a few guys lingering around her, but Crosby was quick to pull them aside, and then they’d quickly disappear.

  Now, it’s time to make my move, so I push myself off the wall, but I’m stopped by a manicured pink-nailed hand planted on my chest.

  To make matters worse, Ainsley’s eyes focus on me at the exact moment. Her smile dips, and Ella follows her vision, her own lips faltering. Ella’s head slowly shakes, and she pats Ainsley’s arm.

  “You left me pretty abruptly the other day,” Crystal says.

  “I gotta go, Crystal.”

  I move to the side, but she steps in front of me.

  “Why won’t you give us a chance? We’d be good together,” she coos, her nails scraping along my biceps and down my forearms.

  “I think we’re better as friends.”

  “Give me one night, and I promise we’d be better friends with benefits.”

  I’ve never contemplated Crystal long enough to decide if she wants me for a night to claim she fucked me or if she’d turn pyscho and want me for more.