by Teagan Kade
Leon looks over. “Good.”
Whether or not he means it is a different story.
“And you?” I ask. “Your side business?”
He claps his hands together. “I shut up shop, got a job at the Quagmire.”
I laugh. “You think working in a bar is the best course of action?”
“It’s a job, isn’t it?”
I can’t argue with that. “I suppose so.”
The sun’s blinding when I step out of the stadium into the open. It’s so bright, I almost miss Taylor standing there.
“It’s been a while,” she says, pushing off the wall in her cheerleader get-up and casually strolling over.
She places her hand on my chest. I brush it off.
Bailey yelps at her from below.
Taylor looks at me in disgust. “What the fuck, Asher?”
I’m tired of this. “What can I say, Taylor? I’m sorry. I’m with someone else. Get the fuck over it.”
“Sorry?” she barks. “We’ve been together two years and all I get is sorry?”
“We had fun, sure, but we were never really a proper couple, Taylor. Surely you know that.”
“What I know is that you’re seeing that Willow bitch.” She sniffs at me. “I can smell her all over you.”
I start to walk off. “I don’t have time for this.”
She jumps in front of me and attempts to push me back. “You will fucking explain, explain exactly what she has that I don’t?”
Got a notepad? It was all for show with Taylor, for sex—pretty mediocre sex at that. A wet mattress has more life.
“I’ve got to go.”
She slaps me in the face.
It’s so pitiful I laugh.
It doesn’t help.
She’s irate. “You think that’s funny?”
“A little bit, yeah. Now, can I go?”
She sidesteps to block my path again. “We’re not done.”
She’s not going to let it go.
I put my bag down. “Okay, Taylor. You want an explanation? Here goes.” I point between us. “What you and I had, it was nothing. I looked good on your arm and you looked good on mine. It was all about appearances, but Willow? She couldn’t care less about that shit. She’s got more integrity and genuine warmth in her pinkie than you’ve got in your entire body. She’s considerate, she’s kind and,” I hesitate. “She’s a hell of a lot better in bed. For the first time in my life I’m in love and I'm not going to let anything—anything, you hear?—jeopardize that.”
I pick up my bag and take hold of Bailey’s leash, attempting to walk, but I’m shoved again, Taylor using both hands now. “Fuck you.”
“I’m leaving.”
I step around her and keep walking.
This time she stays put, continuing to shout at my back.
“We’re not done!” she yells.
Bailey barks back.
“Yes, we are,” I call ahead.
“You’re going to regret this,” she shouts.
But I’m past threats. I’m past vapid airheads like Taylor in my life. I have Willow.
And Willow’s all I need.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WILLOW
A week from exams and Asher and I are studying—and playing—hard. Things have settled down somewhat. At least, no one’s accosting me in the showers any more.
Bellies full from our fill of cannelloni at the restaurant downstairs, we clear the top of the stairs to find a middle-aged man standing by Asher’s door.
“Can I help you?” asks Asher.
“Mr. Slade, is it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Lindsey Stewart, the landlord of this complex.”
Asher exchanges a glance with me. “Did I miss a rent payment?”
The landlord shakes his head. “No. Your mother is quite punctual when it comes to your rent, but I have had it come to my attention you may be harboring an animal here on complex property. I’m sure it was made very clear when you moved in that under no circumstances are pets, animals of any kind, allowed.”
He’s talking like we’re safe-housing a terrorist. Bailey barely makes a sound, and I’ve met Asher’s neighbors. They don’t seem like the kind to report him in. Mr. Barry next door even comes around to feed her when Asher’s in class.
“There is a canine on property, is there not, Mr. Slade?” continues the landlord.
Asher doesn’t deny it. “There is.”
The landlord smiles at me before returning his attention back to Asher. “You have twenty-four hours to remove the offending animal, or you can remove yourself.”
I expect Asher to blow up, but he remains surprisingly calm. “Yes, sir, but can I ask who the complaint came from?”
The landlord smiles at me again. “Let’s just say a concerned citizen. She was most helpful. Good day.”
The landlord leaves.
Asher waits until we’re inside, Bailey nipping at his ankles, before letting his frustration out, slamming the wall with an open hand. “What the hell?”
“Who do you think it was?”
He scoops Bailey up, stroking the soft spot between her ears. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? Taylor’s saw me with her at training. She’s the only person I can think of who’d do something like this just to fuck with me.”
“You really think so? That’s taking it a bit far, isn’t it?”
Asher places Bailey down and leans against the edge of the breakfast bar. “She’s got a serious issue with us, that’s for sure. If I were a betting man, I’d say this is only the start.”
I come forward and play with the bottom of his shirt, lifting it until I see the faint trail of hair that leads to the wonderland below. “Taylor aside, what are you going to do about Bailey? I can’t have her in the dorms. Amy would have a heart attack, for one.”
“She’s not a dog person?” Asher jokes.
“You obviously missed the giant Grumpy Cat poster on her side of the room.”
Asher looks down at my playful fingers, smirking. “I can’t say I was paying much attention to her side of the room.”
“Could you take her to a vet,” I suggest. “Plead her case?”
Asher shakes his head. “You know what would happen. She’d remain unclaimed only to be put down. I can’t do that.”
“You’ve grown attached.”
“I have.”
“So?”
He breathes out. “I have no idea, but I’m going to think of something.”
*
Amy’s out when I get back to the dorm—surprise, surprise. I only just make curfew, squeezing through the door with a disapproving look from the Adele lookalike at the front desk.
I take the opportunity to call Mom.
She answers yawning. “Willow? Is everything okay?”
“Fine, Mom. Just thought I’d give you a call.”
Another yawn. “That’s nice. How’s the study going?”
I nod to myself, stretching out on bed. I’m trying to conjure up thoughts of study, but all I’m getting is Asher—naked, hard. “It’s going well. They have a great library here.”
Library—I blush at thought of what’s taken place there, and it has nothing to do with books. The Joy Of Sex, maybe.
“Have you been eating?”
“Yes, Mom. I can take care of myself, you know.”
“A mother can worry, can’t she? After all, you’re on the other side of the country, alone.”
Thanks for rubbing it in. “I’m not alone, Mom.”
She perks up at this. “You’ve made friends?”
That’s one way to put it. “Of sorts. Maybe friend, singular.”
I was never good at hiding stuff from Mom. She feels me out in an instant. “Are you seeing someone, Willow?” Excitement now. “Is it a boy?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want me to answer ‘yes’ to that, Mom. I thought you only cared about my grades?”
“You’re allowed to have a
little fun, Willow. I know that’s not what your father would have said, but I understand what’s it like. You’ve changed, but you don’t need to be…”
“Boring?”
“Yes. You know, in my own time at college I was quite the wild child myself. This one night, I was with some of the boys from a frat house—”
“I don’t think I want to hear this story, Mom.”
“No? I suppose it’s best left it up to the imagination, but what I am saying is let your hair down a little. Have some fun.”
“Mom.”
“So, who is he? Tell your mother.”
The most incredible guy on the planet. “No one.”
“You do realize you’re going to need to be a little more detailed with answers when you’re a doctor.”
“He’s not a patient, Mom.”
“So there is a boy.”
I decide to toss her a morsel. “He’s on the baseball team.”
“Is he now? Big arms, tall?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re being safe?”
“Mom!”
“I’m dating myself, you know.”
“Are you?” I reply, thankful to turn the conversation back to Mom.
“I found this lovely gentleman on that app all you kids are crazy about, Kinder or whatever it is.”
“Tinder,” I correct, trying to mind-bleach out the horrid imagery running through my head.
“And you’re telling me to be safe.”
“Maturity comes with experience, Willow, not age.”
“Ew.”
“What? I can’t have a sex life?”
“Enough, please.”
“He’s a pilot. He wants to make me a member of the Mile High Club. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
“Mom!” I exclaim again. “I get it.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Baseball player,” she muses, returning to me. “Is that all you’re going to give your poor, starved-for-information mother? Do I get a name?”
“Asher,” I relent.
She mulls it over, repeating, “Asher. Asher. Sounds like the head of a motorcycle gang.”
I laugh. “Not quite, but if he ever gives up baseball I’ll let him know he’s got a long life ahead of him as a career criminal.”
I hear Amy at the door. God knows how she got into the building this late. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”
She gets in one more “Stay safe.”
“You too, Mom.”
I hang up.
Amy stumbles in. “Do you know how small the window in the bathroom downstairs is? You’d think most people would want to break out of this place, not in, but there you go.”
“Why didn’t you just stay out?”
She collapses onto her bed. “Unlike some, I don’t have a boyfriend with his own bachelor pad.”
I lay down staring up at the ceiling. “I suppose it does have its perks.”
“Just let me know when you’re ready to give him up,” Amy yawns. “I’d ride that flagpole day and night.”
Never, I think with a secret smile. He’s mine.
All mine.
*
Rain threatens training the following day, but while the clouds hang heavy and blotted grey, nothing happens.
Asher’s in great form. He smashes ball after ball, each of them streaking across the sky.
I watch him talking with Coach Harris afterwards, Bailey yipping and yapping away tied to the fence.
Finally, the two wrap up. Coach untying Bailey and walking her away, smiling, talking to his newfound recruit.
I meet Asher by the water table. “I see the coach has a new friend. You don’t think it’s a little bit ironic that the coach of the Hellcats is smitten over a tiny dog?”
Asher hooks a finger into the front of my pants and pulls me into him. “He’s not the only one who likes things in small packages.”
I push him away laughing.
He steps over to the water table and drops a cup over his head, shaking it out before putting his cap back on. “I told Coach about our predicament and he happily agreed to take Bailey on. He wasn’t sold at first, but when I told him Taylor might have been involved, it was a done deal. I don’t think he’s a big fan of the cheerleading squad.”
“Bailey will be okay at his place?” I question.
Asher nods. “Sure will. The Coach and his wife used to have a Maltese apparently, and he lives off campus, has a decent backyard for her to play in, parks all around. She’ll be fine, more than fine.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m so happy that sorted itself out.”
“Me too, but I don’t think Taylor’s going to give up that easily, so be on guard.”
I spot Leon eyeballing us from the pitcher’s mound. “I see Leon’s back.”
“And just as well. We need him.”
“But what about what he did to you, to us?”
Asher lifts the brim of his cap. “I know, and it would have been easy to let him burn, but it wouldn’t be right, would it?”
“He’s a dealer, isn’t he? I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Was.”
“Asher…”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, Willow, even a lost soul like Leon.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Perhaps, but you’ve got to realize this is more than a team to me. It’s a family. You don’t leave family behind, no matter how much they’ve fucked up. You do what you can to protect them.”
It’s not my place to judge. I can see where he’s coming from. I’ve never really had that kind of bond with anyone, a friendship that would demand such sacrifice. “Will he be okay?”
Asher grins. “Let’s hope so. He’s a killer pitcher. He’s really got a shot.”
“As do you. Remember that.”
He drags me toward him, kissing me on the forehead with all the delicacy of a breeze brushing a flower. “I will.” He holds me at arm’s length. “Coach offered for us to come around for a BBQ tonight. What do you say?”
I smile back. “I’m vegetarian, remember?”
*
I was expecting the whole team to be at Coach Harris’s place, but it turns out he only invited Asher and I.
Like Asher said, the coach’s place is a dog’s paradise. He even has a cute little dog house in the corner under a big, sprawling oak.
I take a sip of lemonade watching Asher play with Bailey. For a second I picture a child there as well, an inky-haired toddler running and laughing behind them. I have no doubt we’d make cute kids.
“You’re smitten with him, aren’t you?” asks Coach, flipping sausages on the grill beside me.
“I am,” I smile.
“He acts like a bad ass, you know, but our slugger over there’s a marshmallow inside. Most of these tough guys are.”
“He doesn’t seem like much of a marshmallow when he plays ball.
Coach laughs. “You’re right, but baseball’s a different kettle of fish. It’s a warzone out there. It spits sissy boys right on out. There’s no room for ‘soft’ anything in baseball.”
“You talk about it like it’s sacred, a lot like my dad actually.”
He looks at me, the sausages sizzling. “It is, young lady.” He returns to tending the grill. “I almost made the Major League myself, you know.”
“What happened?”
He takes a breath. “A girl.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh,’ which is why I was reluctant about you two at first, but I think if anything you’ve been the best kind of medicine for our boy there. He’s more focused than ever. He’s ready. The question is, are you?”
I can’t summon a reply. Am I? If Asher is snapped by up a Major League team, what happens to me? Do I follow him, give up my own dreams and aspirations? I don’t know. It’s far too heavy for barbeque fodder.
“You’ll treat him right, won’t you?”
I nod. “O
f course.”
I swear the coach is about to cry. I don’t ask him about children. Asher already told me the story.
Coach Harris had a son. Like Asher, he was captain of the Hellcats, but he died—dropped dead from an aneurysm a day before he was to graduate.
Asher’s the coach’s big hope for a championship four-peat. I’m going to make sure he comes through.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ASHER
Having a photographic memory is all well and good, but even superhumans need to hit the books once in a while, especially considering this final exam is a solid fifty percent of overall grading. The library, typically a lonesome place, is fast filling with students eager to cram before ‘E week’ where their futures will largely be determined by a single paper.
“I love the way your brow furrows like that when you’re studying hard,” I tell Willow. “It furrows the same way when you’re co—”
“Shhh.” She looks across the table at me. “Not here.”
“That’s not what you said last time…”
She tilts her head sideways. “Are you going to study or sit there all day firing sexual innuendo at me?”
“You love it.”
“A little, maybe, but right now the only place my head needs to be is deep inside this book.”
I nod in understanding and pick up my own, pretending I’m glancing down at the page when really I’m studying the gentle sweep of her neckline. “Proceed.”
When I look at Willow these days I’m definitely not seeing the quiet, studious type any more. I’m seeing a wild, sexually adventurous animal that just last night was gripping my sheets so hard they damn near tore in two. That’s what sex with Willow is like—beautiful chaos.
But it’s more than the sex. I see the way she is with the kids at the home, the dedication she shows to her studies. She’s got her priorities straight, which is more than I could have said for myself before we met. Playing in the Major League has always been the dream, but now it’s a ‘plus one’ dream, because god knows I can’t see a life without her any more.
The door to the study room swings wide.
It’s Taylor.
Not fucking again.
She stands between us, leaning against the edge of the table. She’s carrying notes in her hand. “Studying hard?”
I shake my head. “Yeah, we are, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and fuck off to your keg party or gang bang or whatever it is you’re into these days?”