Page 105 of Drop Three

“I’ll set you up in the office,” I call out to Penelope, bringing her bags to the room with a Murphy bed.

Thankfully, a text from Coach directs my attention elsewhere, putting unexpected plans on my agenda for the day.

Coach Leggins:Ladies. Hate to do this to you, but mandatory meeting in an hour. Meet in the clubhouse. Keyword: Mandatory

Shit. That doesn’t sound good.

Coach Leggins never bothers us in our offseason unless it’s serious. We finished all of our postseason press, so this is either a sudden meeting about expectations for the upcoming season or something happened.

I hope Taylor is okay.

I need to shower and head out.

Since it looks like Penelope will be perfectly fine without me, I’m comfortable leaving her with Navy while I take a few hours to go to the field.

Walking to where they sit at the kitchen island, I interrupt their conversation. “Since you seem to be fast friends, are you cool with me heading to the field for a couple of hours? Coach texted and called for a mandatory meeting.” I look to Penelope for confirmation.

“Is Taylor okay?” Navy cuts in.

My initial thought exactly.

“I don’t know. I hope so,” I tell her before Penelope speaks up. “I’m good here. Do whatever you need. I hope everything is okay.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I lean forward to briskly kiss Penelope on the cheek. I stop short for a moment, instinct leading me to do the same for Navy, but I don’t.

“I’ll call you on my way home. We can grab dinner.”

Penelope nods, and Navy looks my way playfully. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get lost.”

I smirk. “Thanks.”

Time to figure out what’s so important Leggins would call for a mandatory meeting this close to spring training.

I dart up the stairs to finally shower and get ready quickly. I’m in the threshold of my bedroom door when I spot something lying just outside Navy’s bedroom. Curiosity is my weakness.

I stride toward it, looking behind me to make sure no one is around.

Lipstick.

I twirl it in my hands, noting the name “Berry Dipped” as the shade.

I can picture the bold color painted perfectly across Navy’s lips.

Berry Dipped.

She owns shade after shade, yet pink is always her color of choice. This pink happens to be my favorite shade on her. I recognize it well.

Realizing I’m standing outside her bedroom door like a creep holding her coveted lipstick, I contemplate returning it to where she keeps her makeup.

Although, Navy’s room is scattered with lipstick; I remember from the last time I was in here. I’m sure she would appreciate me returning it to its proper place.

At least, that’s how I feel comfortable justifying my reason.

It likely fell out of her purse as she rushed downstairs at the sound of Penelope and me.

This is me doing something kind for my friend, who just so happens to be my roommate, and the woman I’m slightly obsessed with.

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