Chapter 24
CALEB
T he total lack of sound wakes me. I’m used to shouts and yells in the morning. Whistles and gongs. Brian was not a morning person, and he made sure the rest of us shared in his misery.
Consciousness slowly trickles in with the sunlight, and it’s the absence of any obvious indication I need to wake up that makes me do so. Well that, the fact I forgot to draw the blinds when we arrived late last night, and how there’s the foreign warmth of a body pressed against me.
I open my eyes, slowly registering the unfamiliar surroundings of the Adams’s lakeside cabin. A red quilt, cream-colored walls, and matching mahogany furniture decorate the room. I came here with the guys once in high school, but memories of that trip are hazy.
I turn my attention to the girl sprawled out beside me. The sheets cover her from the waist down, but there’s still a whole lot of skin on display. She teased me about my new freckles, but there are just as many additions on her arms and shoulders.
“Len,” I whisper. “Lennon.” She groans, tossing an arm over her eyes and almost whacking my left one in the process. I smirk as I lean down and kiss her neck. “Wake up.”
“What time is it?” she mumbles from behind her elbow.
“Early. No one else is up yet.”
“Why are you?” Pragmatic even while half-asleep.
“I want to go canoeing.” Not what I planned on saying, but a thought that’s been circulating around in my head ever since I saw the small boats stacked by the garage when we arrived here late last night.
“That’s a terrible idea,” Lennon mutters. I chuckle.
“All you’ll have to do is sit there while I paddle,” I promise her. “Preferably not unexpectedly yelling.”
Lennon slides her arm off her eyes, finally giving me an unobstructed view of her face. She squints up at me, an adorable pink flush spreading across her chest once she realizes we’re both naked and her boobs are on display.
I lean down to kiss her, unable to help myself. We hardly ever wake up in bed together, and mussed hair and sleepy eyes is one of my favorite looks on Lennon Matthews.
“Come on,” I cajole when my lips leave hers. “For old times’ sake.”
Lennon lifts her head off the pillow to kiss me again. “How about we just do this?” she suggests, sliding her hand down my stomach. My body instantly reacts, blood rushing south so fast it’s painful. I catch her palm before she reaches my hardening dick, weaving our fingers together.
“Please?”
She groans but throws the covers the rest of the way off and climbs out of bed. “I can’t believe you’re turning down sex to go canoeing .”
I grin as I roll out of the now-empty bed to pull on a sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts.
“We can have sex in the canoe.”
“Hard pass,” Lennon replies as she pulls on my old Landry Baseball hoodie. With nothing underneath.
If I wasn’t so eager to get going before Colt, Jake, and Luke wake up, I’d push her right back into bed and fuck her while she’s wearing it.
In high school, I never participated in any of the silly traditions most of the other guys did. I never gave a girl my letterman jacket or asked her to decorate my locker on game days.
Because there was only one girl I wanted— this girl—and for most of high school she wanted nothing to do with me. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self there are better ways to get a girl’s attention than antagonizing her every change you get, but the logic made sense to me at the time.
We were never a real couple in high school.
For a long time, I thought we’d never been a real couple, period.
So every time I see Lennon in my favorite sweatshirt—the one she stole from me when we started officially dating—I experience a satisfying, possessive thrill.
Lennon Matthews has always been hard for me to read. Maybe because I’m twice as desperate to know what she’s thinking as I am with anyone else. The fact she wears an article of clothing with my name on it nearly every day gives me some much-needed reassurance.
I’m in deep with her.
Deeper than I ever imagined being with a girl at just twenty-one. I planned my life out a while ago, centered around baseball. High school, college, pros.
I didn’t factor in dating, much less a serious relationship. But I know, with absolute certainty, that if it ever comes down to choosing between baseball and Lennon, I’d pick her and walk away from the sport.
And that’s…kind of terrifying.
Once we’re both dressed we head down the hallway, past the shut doors to the bedrooms where Luke, Jake, and Colt are passed out. Through the massive kitchen Lennon’s eyes widen at. I carried her in fast asleep when we arrived, so this is the first she’s seeing of the cabin besides our bedroom.
Cool, damp air greets us as we step outside, tinged with the scent of pine and grass. Lennon shivers at the cooler temperature. I pull her into my side as we walk along the dirt path that leads down to the shore of the lake.
I drop my arm once we reach the canoe rack so I can pull a green one down and haul it down to where the water laps against the sandy shore.
I gesture to the front of the boat.
Lennon sighs, shakes her head, and then steps inside the canoe.
“You’re the only person I would do this for,” she tells me.
I chuckle. “Love you too.”
She pauses and glances back at me, a soft small on her face that’s totally different from her reaction the first time I said those words to her, less than a mile from where we are now. This trip feels like a do-over from the one we took as seniors, which is part of why I’m trying to recreate it.
“You good?” I ask, after she’s crawled through the canoe to the front seat.
“Uh-huh.” Lennon settles in the seat and lets her hair out of the messy bun she pulled it back in. The cool morning breeze blows some of the light brown strands off to the right.
I climb into the back seat, pick up a paddle, and shove away from the lake’s shore. The wind picks up as we move away from the sandy stretch, the trees no longer providing any measure of shelter.
Unlike the last time we were on this lake together, there’s barely any mist. I paddle along the shoreline, passing floating docks and the occasional duck.
Lennon catches my eye after the first mallard we pass, and we share a bittersweet, secret smile.
Aside from that moment, she seems lost in thought.
I know she’s stressed about the future. About our future.
Lennon Matthews and I have little in common, at least at first glance. Probably after a second look, too.
We have different families, dream, expectations, and opportunities.
Most of all, I thought that our feelings for each other would never be comparable.
Ever since we got together, I’ve been worried Lennon’s waiting to tell me it isn’t worth it.
For her to decide she wants a guy who’s around for more than just a weekend once every couple of months.
Who doesn’t spend most of the summer in Georgia and all of the spring traveling around the country to play at different colleges.
“Okay, this isn’t terrible,” Lennon finally admits, twisting around to smile at me.
“Told ya.” I smirk back as I continue to paddle along. “Just wish I’d paid attention to which direction we came from.”
“You had better be joking, Caleb, or I swear this is the last time you’re going to get me in a canoe with you.”
“That’s what you said last time,” I tease.
Lennon sticks her tongue out at me before turning back to look out at the lake. “Guess I’m a sucker for baseball players.”
I chuckle, because we both know she’s the furthest thing from a groupie.
The girls who flirt with me at Clarkson parties and hang around the bleachers after our practices know nothing about me aside from the fact I can throw a baseball pretty damn fast. Lennon knows me better than anyone else in the world.
“Good to know,” I tease her.
Lennon scoffs as she leans back on her palms. “So…are you excited to go back to Clarkson next week?”
I look away, out at the smooth surface of the water, any amusement slipping away as things turn serious between us. “Yes and no.”
I’m excited to be reunited with my teammates and friends.
I’m eager to prepare for the next season—for my final season of college ball.
I’m dreading leaving her.
“I’d be more excited if I knew you’d be there this fall.” I can’t help but add the words, even knowing it will pull the sudden tension between us tighter.
Lennon says nothing.
She might not have heard back yet, but I’m not harboring any doubts she’ll get into Clarkson. I doubt she is either. She was our class valedictorian at Landry High, which is the best school district in the state. And, as far as I know, she’s gotten nothing but A’s at Richardson Community College.
We both know the chances of her attending Clarkson this fall will be decided by her attachment to Matthews Farm and to Earl rather than the whims of the Admissions Office.
It would be a lot easier for me to resent her indecision if I didn’t get just how hard of a choice it is.
I’ve spent a lot of time at Matthews Farm since my first visit there, over four years ago. With Earl. With the horses. I know what those acres of grass signify to her.
“It’s fine, Len,” I assure her when the silence continues to stretch between us. “Whatever happens, we’ll be fine.”
Lennon likes to challenge me. It’s one of my favorite things about her. She’s not one to shirk from a problem or pretend everything is fine when it’s not. The fact that all she says in response is, “Okay,” gives me a clue of just how worried she really is.
“I mean it.”
“What is it with you and serious conversations in canoes?” Lennon asks me, spinning around fully so she’s looking at me, not the lake.
I’m relieved to see she’s smiling. The sun is rising, backlighting her hair and pulling out tints of red in it.
“We’ve had plenty of serious conversations on dry land,” I reply.
“Yeah, I guess,” she concedes.
We have a lot of serious conversations, period.