Chapter Two
Todd
“What made you suggest I come down?”
My stomach drops when Taylor asks Chase the inevitable question, and I have to turn away for fear of giving myself away.
“Yeah, I wish you could have come up for Christmas too.”
I release a breath. It’s killing me not hearing both sides of the conversation, but it sounds like Chase is playing his part.
“Can I call you later to work out the details? I’m actually at the batting cages with Todd. Yep, all right, bye.” She turns to me. “Sorry about that.”
I smirk—time to play my part. “No, you’re not.”
She returns my smile, and it melts my heart. “You’re right—I’m not. Sue me.”
“Tempting.” I hand her back her bat. “You want to keep going or head for dinner?”
“Just a little longer,” she replies, and I turn the pitching machine back on.
I can tell Chase’s call has cheered her up—her hands aren’t strangling the bat, and her swings are more fluid—and even though she doesn’t know it yet, I’m happy I could bring her that relief.
When she’s finally had enough, we pack up and get wings, which we take home and eat while watching the Pacers vs. Nets game.
By the fourth quarter, she’s curled up next to me with her head on my lap, snoring, and I’m playing with her red braid, wishing it could always be like this.
I can’t believe it’s been fourteen years since she moved in down the street from me.
One Saturday morning in April, she and Chase asked to join my friends’ pickup baseball game.
She was picked last, but then I traded for her because Steven made a big deal about having her on his team.
She got the last laugh in the end, though, hitting a two-run home run off him in the bottom of the first.
That’s when I knew she was a force of nature.
We’ve been inseparable ever since—middle school, high school, and now college—in this apartment with our laundry mixed together and her head on my lap during games.
Suddenly, my phone rings and I slip out from beneath her to take it to my room.
“Hey,” I say, answering.
“Operation Tell Taylor You Love Her has begun.”
“Chase, this isn’t an operation, and if it was, it wouldn’t be called that.”
“What about Operation Exit The Friend Zone?”
I shake my head. “I’m beginning to regret involving you.”
“How else would you get her to New Orleans, since this whole plan of yours hinges on it?”
“Fine, you’re playing a pivotal role, and I’m forever grateful.”
“Damn right I am,” he says, his tone filled with pride. “And just remember the rules—”
“No fucking at your place.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, I got it.”
“And don’t break her heart.”
“I told you . . .” I peek out to see she’s still sleeping on the couch, and my heart flips in my chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”