Page 76 of Running Home to You
“You should’ve seen them going at it upstairs,” Jill said.
Kate gritted her teeth. “We weren’t going at it.”
“I should’ve known. Hutch has had that post-sex glow for weeks now.” T.K. grinned.
“Playing way better too. Took the hitting slump right out of you,” Jill said.
“That’s the power of good sex. I do it for maintenance.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” Abby scoffed. “How much maintenance does one person require?”
“I don’t know. How much, Hutch?” T.K. asked.
“That’s it. We’re leaving.” Abby grabbed a dumbstruck Kate’s hand and stood.
“Okay, everyone cut the shit. Let’s be adults about this,” Mick said, nudging Abby back to the sofa.
“I think it’s too late for that,” Kate murmured.
Mick theatrically paced in front of them, repeatedly sighed, and didn’t speak for almost a full minute. Abby and Kate exchanged glances before she finally broke into a soliloquy.
“Listen, you two are our best friends and we want you to be happy. You’re cute together, in a weird opposites-attract way. I mean, I kind of wanted this to happen. It was obvious to everyone. Except you two. You’re a genius, Hutch, but also an idiot. And Cruz, my God, I won’t start on you.” Mick shrugged when Abby flipped her off. “Anyway, it’s great you two figured it out. I’m happy if you’re both happy. I—we—just don’t want to see you crash and burn.”
“Wow, thanks,” Abby said.
“No, I mean, we’re always going to be there for you guys. Granted, this has irrevocably altered the group dynamic.” Mick shook her head. “But it’s not just about me or our weird family. It’s about the season.”
“I know.” Kate nodded. “We were planning to keep this between us. At least until the summer. I don’t need the entire team knowing…”
“That their captain is screwing the third baseman in the middle of a run for a title?”
“We won’t be a distraction, and we won’t let it impact the team,” Abby said.
Kate squeezed Abby’s hand. “It hasn’t so far.”
Their three teammates, lined up on their chairs, goofy and warm as ever, shined with laughter that didn’t come.
Abby furrowed her brow at them. “What?”
“Nothing,” Mick said.
“This just seems right.” Jill grinned. “You two.”
Mick dabbed fake tears. “They grow up so fast.”
Before Abby could snark back, a pile on of hugs swept over her and Kate, arms and elbows flinging, pinched cheeks, ruffled hair, groans, a yelp at a knee meeting her bruise, but mostly smiles, laughter, and the closeness of kin formed in bond instead of blood.
“Be good to each other,” Mick said, one arm around each of them.
“We will,” Abby said, her eyes meeting Kate’s through the group huddle. In her gaze and grin, she felt it. Berkeley and the rest. A future, a plan, that she might reach out and grab. She smiled back. They were going to make it.
Senior Day
She thought she beat it like any other game she willed herself to win. And this matter of the heart certainly seemed worthy of victory—that victory being the absence of guilt for loving Abby entirely. It was easy to do in her arms, easy in the shield of night, and easy when they existed in their carefully crafted bubble. A place where they couldn’t be wrong.
Until life squeezed in. Until the church bells rang distantly on Sunday mornings while she slept on Abby’s chest. Until she opened her bedside drawer and skimmed her untouched Bible. Until Pastor Derek stopped her on the quad.
“Kate Hutchins!” he said with arms raised, as he approached from the opposite direction, so that she couldn’t possibly ignore him. “We’ve missed you!”
