Page 41 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
My heart flaps wings and flies away at his words. What more could I want? All the questions and what-ifs can wait. He loves me. And I’m going to bask in this feeling for as long as I can. This time right here, right now is all that matters.
“Enough eye babies over there. Let’s make some s’mores.” Chrissy laughs and smacks my shoulder as she grabs a marshmallow.
Austin tells her to grab one more marshmallow. “The best s’mores always have two marshmallows.” He told her.
“And chocolate and graham crackers.” I add with a wink. I twist my roasting stick over the flickering flames, and watch as smoke rises into the sky. Sparks float and fall around us. Sparks just like the ones flying off of Austin and me today, and well, almost every day we’ve known each other. Every kiss today has been amazing. We just feel right.
“Ready for your grahams and chocolate?” Austin’s warm voice slides over me like molten chocolate. He holds out a graham cracker topped with two pieces of chocolate. I pull my roasting stick from the fire and center the marshmallows over the chocolate. Austin presses another graham square on top and I slide the roasting stick out of the sandwich.
After I set the roasting stick down, I turn back toward Austin. But I don’t reach out to grab the s’more from his hands. Instead I lean forward and open my mouth. I’m being so brazen. And I know Chrissy and Jaimie will tease me later for this.
I hold myself awkwardly, mouth open, heart racing. I’m so tempted to just close it and take the s’more from Austin.
Austin’s eyes meet mine, and tension crackles between us, louder than the popping of the fire. His hand moves so slowly, and the s’more finally touches my mouth. I crunch down and liquid chocolate and melted marshmallow ooze into my mouth. I don’t understand how this is romantic, but it is. Austin feeding me is romantic and I just want to giggle and eat s’mores from his hand all night.
The rest of the night flies by in a blur. We talk, and then we just sit and sing praise and worship choruses as Jesse plays his guitar. Austin set the bar high for birthday celebrations. It can’t get better than this, can it?
Chapter 18
Austin - The Present
Ishovetherestof my clothes into the washer, and slam the door closed. Dishes and laundry. The two worst parts of adulting, in my opinion. I’m sure others consider cleaning toilets to be the worst part. When it comes to laundry and dishes, I can never get the detergent amounts correct. It’s either too little or too much. After hittingstart,I plop into a kitchen chair.
I pick up my phone to access my handy little to-do list. I thumb in the passcode, the code I added as soon as I got home from that wreck of a New Years Eve party.
A notification to set up face ID pops up and I swipe it away. As much as that would make unlocking my phone easy, I don’t mind typing Raegan's name in numeric fashion to unlock my phone. And it gives me an excuse to think about her and, when I remember, to also say a little prayer for her too.
I put a little check mark next todo laundryin my list. As a responsible adult, I have to keep myself on track. Lifecan’t be spent working out and playing baseball all day long. Groceries have to be purchased, meals made, the house cleaned. Thankfully, my apartment is small. My to-do list is on the phone, but I like to do the grocery list with pen and paper. I snatch up that list and start planning my weekly menu.
My phone buzzes and jolts me from my meal planning. My general manager's name flashes on the screen.
“Hello, sir. What’s up?” It’s common to get a call from my agent, Adam, but a call from the general manager… I hope I’m not in trouble for anything. “I’ve got some news for you.” He chomps on his gum as he speaks.
“Good news? Bad news? Am I in trouble?”
My GM laughs. “No, no. Not in trouble.” His gum snaps loudly. “But I think you’ll think it’s good news.” He pauses and takes a big breath. “You’ve been traded.”
I lean back, pulling the front legs of my chair up off the floor. My brows have got to be in my hairline. Traded? Why? What does this mean for my future? I have no desire to move across the country. And I don’t really want to head north. Maybe back to Texas, but that opens up a whole different can of feelings.
“So, where have I been traded to?” I rub my hand back and forth over the bridge of my nose.
“I know you grew up in Atlanta,” He pauses. “But you always made it seem like Texas was orishome.” The sound of gum snapping takes over the phone’s speaker. Then it stops. “You’re going back home! The Fort Worth Lariats have picked you up. You’re going to their Double-A team, the Frisco Silver Spurs.”
My palms are sweaty. Knees weak, arms are– nope. My palms really are sweaty. My throat is dry, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Frisco is roughly two hours from Clear Creek. I never went to any games while living in Texas, but everyone from Clear Creek would go to Lariat or Spurs games. They’re the closest teams. And now I’ll be playing in Frisco.
I finally gulp down a breath of air. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
Am I in shock? I run my fingers over the kitchen table, a splinter snagging just under my fingernail. How will I handle living that close to Raegan? I could just go visit her. Do I call her and tell her I’m moving out there? Obviously I’ll tell Mom and Izzy. I haven’t kept in touch with them like I should have. When we do talk, we keep things simple. Raegan is never discussed, like that character in that one Disney movie about the magical house. We just don’t talk about her.
I could just refuse the transfer, right? But that might smother my chances of being called up. If the Lariats organization wants me enough to get me in a trade after the season has started, then I must be a hot commodity. I have to go. Baseball is my life, going pro is my dream. And if I have to face my past, and do hard things by moving to Texas, then so be it.
“So, how long before I need to report in?” I need to start a new to-do list. Get out of lease, find a moving company, tell Dad. And the list goes on and on.
“Your first game with them will be in four days, so you’ve got time to get things together. It’s all part of the game, boy. Being ready to go at any time. Let me get everything squared away and I’ll get Adam the contract and he’ll go over the particulars with you.”
I’m really doing this. Moving back to Texas. And now, I’ve got to figure out how to tell Dad, Mom, and maybe Coach.
The stadium buzzes with excitement. The usual enthusiasm crackles in the air, but there’s something else. Maybe it’s the thought of beinghomethat has my nerves calmer than usual, and the smell of nachos and hotdogs don’t make me nauseous like they sometimes do.
