Play Hard (Make the Play #2)

by Amber Garza

  But more than anything, it’s made me wonder if Dusty was right when he said that I’m not worthy of true love.

  ****

  All doubts about wearing Cal’s jacket fly out the window when I spot him at school. He’s at his locker when I enter the hallway. When he glances up, his eyes meet mine, and the look on his face makes it worth it. His lips curl upward, his eyes lighting up. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone appear so happy to see me, and my heart soars. Man, this guy makes me feel things I’ve never experienced. And as much as it scares me, it excites me more. His gaze traveling down my body, he slams his locker shut and takes large strides to reach me. I giggle when his arms come around my middle, and he tugs me into him.

  “Man, you look so hot in my jacket.”

  My face warms. When my gaze shifts around the hallway, all eyes are focused on us. My pulse quickens.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Cal says, his eyes following my gaze. “Look at me.”

  Dusty would say things like that, but they didn’t come out playful. It’s weird how the exact same words can mean entirely different things depending on the inflection and the intent behind it.

  “You knew everyone would be staring if I wore this, didn’t you?” I lift one brow.

  An apology flashes in his eyes. “Are you okay with that?”

  “That depends,” I say.

  “On what?” His fingertips skate over my middle, and a shudder ripples through me.

  I take a deep breath. So far I haven’t shared much about my past with Cal. And I know Aunt Molly’s right. I need to spill everything, but I’m not ready yet. However, I do need him to know some things. It’s the only way I can protect myself. The only way I can ensure Cal will understand me. “Dusty treated me like property. It’s why I was so reluctant to wear this. I don’t want to be anyone’s property, Cal. Not even yours.”

  He extracts one of his arms from around my waist and gently brushes his fingertips over my cheek. “You’re no one’s property, Taylor. Not mine. Not…” he swallows hard. “Dusty’s.” Darkness flashes in his eyes, and I can see the disgust on his face at the mention of my ex-boyfriend’s name. “I respect you, and I won’t treat you like property. I’m sorry if that’s how I made you feel by asking you to wear this.” Lowering his hand, he touches the collar of the jacket. “Honestly, I wanted you to wear it because I want everyone to know how I feel about you. I want them to know how crazy I am about you.” His face grows serious. “I saw how those girls treated you last night, like you were invisible. And when I talked to Dusty I heard the dismissive way he spoke about you. You’re not invisible, and you’re definitely deserving of a guy who treats you like you’re special. That’s why I wanted you to wear this.” He yanks gently on the collar. “I do want people to know that you belong to me, but not in a possessive way. In a protective way. Meaning, I’ll do anything and everything I can to protect you, keep you safe.”

  His words puncture my heart. They’re the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard spoken in real life. I blink furiously and swallow down the emotion rising in my throat. Sniffing, I say, “I can definitely tell you were raised by a romance author.”

  Surprise registers on his face. “Who told you about my mom?”

  “My uncle.”

  Nodding, he says, “It’s true that my mom writes romance, but I’ve never read her books. And what I just said to you wasn’t rehearsed. It’s how I feel. It’s the truth.”

  “I know.” I smile. “That’s what made it so beautiful.”

  “You can take the jacket off if you want,” he says, and I love that he offers that even though I know he likes me in it.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have worn it if I didn’t want to. You’re not the only one who wants to make a statement with it.”

  “Is that right?” His lips edge upward.

  “Yep.” Lifting on my tip-toes, I gently plant a kiss on his cheek. “I want everyone to know how crazy I am about you too.”

  He holds me tighter. “You’re crazy about me?”

  I nod as the bell rings through the air.

  “Seriously? I have to leave you now? After what you just admitted I want to keep you in my arms all day.”

  I chuckle. “I think my teachers would frown upon that.”

  “And here I thought you were the rebellious one.”

  It’s a joke, but it stings a little. Mostly because that’s how I’ve always been known. As the rebel. The bad girl. The tough one. And from the moment I met Cal, it’s clear that he’s one of the good guys. The rule follower. The gentleman.

  There’s no way this can last, and I know it will end when he finds out everything. That’s why I can’t keep my promise to Aunt Molly. I can’t tell Cal today. At some point I will. But first I want to hold onto him for a little longer.

  CAL

  “You and voodoo chick, huh?” Ashley intercepts me before lunch.

  “Don’t call her that,” I snap.

  She chuckles. “Looks like the rumors are true. She’s definitely cast a spell on you.”

  “Yeah, I guess she did. But trust me, she didn’t have to use magic.” I grin, the image of Taylor filling my mind. “She is magic.”

  Ashley grimaces. “God, you sound like a character in one of your mom’s books.”

  That’s the second time I’ve been accused of that today. Am I turning into a sap or what? “Shouldn’t you be bothering Josh?”

  With a disgusted laugh, she shakes her head. “It’s so weird. Here I thought you and Christian were so cool, but you’ve both fallen for losers.”

  Man, if she weren’t a chick, I’d deck her. In one statement she disrespected two of my favorite people. “Watch it,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “What’s going on?” Josh walks up.

  Behind him, I spot Taylor. She’s standing right inside the doorway of the cafeteria, her gaze sweeping the room. My heart pinches. I’ve only seen her in here once. Is she here for me? I was planning to meet her in the quad, but I’d love it if she sat inside with me and my friends.

  “Nothing.” I wave away Josh’s question. “Just Ashley being Ashley. And she’s all yours. I’m outta here.” Shoving past them, I hurry in Taylor’s direction.

  As I approach, she lifts her head, a small smile surfacing on those dark, heart-shaped lips of hers. My insides flutter with every step.

  “Hey,” I greet her. “Wasn’t expecting you in here.”

  “It’s cold outside,” she said.

  “Even in my jacket?”

  Nodding, she grins.

  “So you didn’t come in here for me then?”

  “For a big baseball superstar, your ego sure needs a lot of stroking,” she teases. At least I hope she’s teasing. However, she’s not entirely wrong.

  Deciding not to press the issue anymore, I snatch up her hand. Her palms are clammy. I squeeze my fingers around hers.

  “Nervous?” I ask.

  “Just not sure I’ll fit in with your group.”

  “You will.”

  She pauses, a skeptical expression filling her face. “How can you be sure?”

  “Because you fit in with me.” She doesn’t seem convinced, but she follows me. Her guarded expression and cold damp hands remind me of what she’s been through. She’s only shared tidbits, but she doesn’t even need to speak about her past. It’s written all over her face. It’s evident in her mannerisms, in her hot and cold behavior, in her expressions.

  “Hey, Taylor.” Emmy waves us over when we near the table.

  “Hi,” Taylor mumbles.

  “I’m Christian.” Chris stands, thrusting out his hand.

  “Taylor.” She shakes the hand he’s offered.

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard all about you.” He throws me a wink.

  Taylor appears flustered at first, but recovers quickly. We sit on the bench across from Chris and Emmy, and Taylor busies herself with taking out her lunch bag.

  “Taylor, you wanna
ride home with me after school?” Emmy asks between bites of her sandwich, and my head snaps up in surprise.

  “You guys are hanging out today?” I ask, wondering why neither of them told me.

  “Math tutoring,” Taylor explains, a tiny cringe flashing.

  Smiling, I snake an arm over her shoulder. “Ah, that’s right. Fun stuff.”

  “It is fun,” Emmy insists.

  “Good luck with Miss Numbers over here,” I tease.

  Taylor chuckles. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Be careful.” Emmy waggles her index finger in front of my face. “Or I just might peruse our photo albums with Taylor.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I fire back.

  “Watch me.”

  “Okay, babe.” Chris clamps a hand down on Emmy’s thigh, and she visibly calms. He throws Taylor a conspiratorial look. “Get used to this with the two of them. I’ve had years of it.”

  I should be pissed at Chris for talking about me like that, but when I see the smile on Taylor’s face, all anger leaves me. Instead, I’m grateful to Chris for making her feel like part of the group. Catching his eye, I throw him an appreciative nod. He grins back.

  Hayes slips onto the bench beside me. “Hey, man.” His eyes widen when he notices Taylor next to me in my jacket. “Oh, hey voodoo chi--”

  I cut him off with a swift shake of my head and narrowed eyes.

  “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Sorry. I mean, hey, Taylor. I’m Hayes.”

  If she heard his initial greeting, she downplays it. “Hi, Hayes,” she responds politely.

  “So, the other day when we were talking, you were into her?” He whispers to me.

  “Yeah, I was, and I still am,” I clarify.

  “Right.” He pauses. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said, man.”

  “Just don’t let it happen again,” I say, not letting him off the hook too fast. Not because I don’t like Hayes or that I don’t believe he feels bad. Mostly because I want him to spread the word. The rude nicknames need to go.

  Appearing rattled by the exchange, Hayes fiddles inside his backpack for a minute before striking up a conversation with Palmer who sits on the other side of him.

  “So you never said if you needed a ride,” Emmy says, bringing us full circle.

  “Oh, yeah, that might work. I would just need to get ahold of Aunt Molly.” Pink spots appear on her cheeks. “But I would have to borrow a cell phone. I don’t have one.”

  Emmy reels back. “You don’t have a phone?”

  “I did before coming here. My mom kinda kept it.” Agitated, she scratches the back of her neck.

  My mind travels back to meeting Dusty. I can only imagine why her mom took her phone. “It’s okay. You can use mine.” I take it out of my pocket. When I hand it to her, our fingertips brush. As she dials her aunt, I find myself wishing I didn’t have practice after school. Taylor’s coming over to my house, and I want to be there. I marvel at how weird this is. It’s the first time I’ve ever wished I could get out of practice.

  This girl is changing me.

  Taylor

  Cal’s house is similar to Uncle Alex’s with its wraparound porch and shuttered windows. The main difference is how it’s decorated. It’s much more eclectic at Cal’s. It must be his mom’s influence. I imagine an author is pretty creative. Also, Cal’s house is devoid of all the little bible verses and quotes that are framed all over the walls at my uncle’s. Here the walls are mostly covered in family pictures and obscure paintings.

  One wall of the family room is covered in bookshelves. While Emmy retrieves a couple of bottled waters from the kitchen, I scan the shelves for Maise’s books. When I find them, my fingers skate over the spines.

  “It must be exciting to have an author for a mom,” I say when Emmy returns, thinking about my mom’s boring office job. In fact, I don’t even know what exactly she does.

  Emmy hands me one of the waters. “Yeah, it’s a blast.” It’s impossible to miss the edge of sarcasm, and I wonder what that’s about.

  Before I can ask, a door pops open to my right. I recognize Maise the minute she steps into the room from the pictures I’ve seen at my local bookstore. Sometimes they have her face plastered in the window. Honestly, I feel a little star struck.

  “Oh,” Maise glances up at me. “I didn’t know Emmy had a friend over.” Her gaze flickers down to my jacket, and her lips curl into a frown.

  My insides knot.

  “Yeah.” Emmy touches my shoulder. I flinch, but then force my shoulders to soften. She’s only trying to help. I’m going to have to stop being so jumpy every time someone touches me. So far the only person who can touch me without me leaping out my skin is Cal. “This is Taylor. She’s a friend from school.”

  “A friend of yours or Cal’s?”

  Emmy groans. It’s low, and I don’t think Maise hears it, but I do. There is some major tension going on between the two of them. Up until this moment, I wasn’t sure Emmy and I would ever connect, but now I realize there is a lot more to Emmy than what I see on the surface. It was obvious in her spunky attitude towards Cal at lunch, and now with her visible irritation with her mom. Clearly this family isn’t as perfect as I once suspected. “Both,” Emmy says, placing a hand on my back. “And we have stuff to do, so we’re going to my room.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tanya,” Maise says as we leave the room.

  “It’s…Taylor,” I correct her quietly.

  “What?” She asks.

  “Nothing,” I say quickly, wishing I hadn’t spoken at all.

  “Her name is Taylor, Mom,” Emmy says in a frustrated tone.

  “Oh, one of my character’s name was Taylor.” Maise knits her brows together. “Which book was that?”

  “I don’t know, Mom.” Emmy rolls her eyes, and whispers to me, “And I don’t care.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Maise snaps her fingers. “I remember. She was in The Millionaire who Loved me.”

  “Hmmm. Wonder what that was about,” Emmy muses.

  I fight back a giggle. I’m liking her more and more by the minute.

  Emmy tucks her free hand under my elbow and steers me out of the room. Clutching the cold water bottle to my chest, I follow her. When we reach her room, my gaze travels to the room across the hall. The door is open, and it’s obvious the room belongs to a boy. Baseball posters are tacked all over the wall. It reminds me of home – of all my skateboarding posters.

  “That’s Cal’s room,” Emmy says.

  I nod, embarrassed that she caught me staring. Turning from it, I slip inside Emmy’s room. It looks about like I thought it would. Like it belongs to a teenage girl. A little similar to my frilly room at my aunt and uncle’s, but a little more mature.

  Emmy sinks down onto the edge of the bed, and unscrews the cap of her water. I take a seat next to her opening my own water. We sip our waters in silence for a minute before Emmy stands up and makes a beeline for her backpack.

  “Ready to get started?” she asks, and I nod eagerly. Not because I’m looking forward to math tutoring, but because the awkward silence is killing me.

  Standing up myself, I head over to my backpack and pull out my math notebook and a pencil. “I really appreciate you offering to tutor me.”

  She presses the math notebook to her chest and stops moving. Studying me intently she says, “Are you really here for tutoring? Or is this about Cal?”

  Her words stun me, and I stare at her mutely for a minute. Honestly, I’m unsure how to answer. The truth is that Cal is the main reason I said yes to tutoring. But I do need help in math, and the more I’ve gotten to know Emmy, the more I like her. So I decide to be straight with her. “I think I’m here for many reasons.” I shrug. “It’s no secret I like Cal. I mean, I’m wearing his damn jacket, and I’ve never been the kind of girl who wears a guy’s baseball jacket. Hell, I’m not even the kind of girl who likes baseball.” A light chuckle escapes through my lips. Emmy smiles lightly, but she wear
s a guarded look. It’s familiar. I know all about being guarded, about protecting yourself. “But I’m flunking math, and I need to get my grade up. Besides, the other day when we talked at the baseball game I felt like maybe we could become friends.” After the words leave my mouth, I feel stupid. I’m not one to share my feelings, and yet here I am walking around like a faucet lately, spilling my feelings all over the place. What is Prairie Creek doing to me?

  The guarded look dissipates a little and a true smile emerges on Emmy’s face. “Man, that’s a relief.” She moves toward her bed and plunks down. Then she opens up her math book and sets it over her legs. I join her. “I had fun the other night at the game too. It was nice. Usually I sit by myself.”

  I hadn’t thought about it before, but I’ve never seen Emmy with another girl. She’s always with her boyfriend or Cal. Why doesn’t she have any girlfriends? “Your friends never sit with you?”

  “My friends are playing,” she responds simply.

  Curiosity doesn’t allow me to let it go. “Chris and Cal are your only friends?”

  She bites her lip. “Well, not always. I used to have a lot of friends. But then Ashley ruined all that.”

  “Ashley? The blond girl in our math class? Wears way too much perfume?”

  This elicits a tiny laugh from Emmy. “She does, doesn’t she?”

  “How did she take away your friends?”

  “It wasn’t all her fault I lost my friends, I guess. That was my doing.” Emmy sighs, her gaze dropping to her bedspread. “I used to hang out with girls like me. Girls who liked school. Girls who tutored people in math.” She smiles briefly at me, and I smile back. “You know, the ones other people in the school picked on, calling us nerds. But then Ashley and I hit it off at a baseball game. We instantly became best friends. Once I started hanging out with her, I guess I thought I was too good for my old friends.” I know exactly what she’s saying. When Dusty and I got together, I dropped a lot of my former friends too. I thought I was too cool for them. But when things went south between Dusty and me, I wished I had my friends to turn too. However, it was too late. “Anyway, it was a stupid decision because Ashley was just using me to get to Cal.”