Pitch Perfect(50)
“Right?” Alex egged, reminding her where they’d left off.
“Yes, okay. Yes.”
“Why?”
“Whatdya mean?”
“Why? Why were you going there to break up with him?”
“Because I think I’m in love with Tucker.” As soon as the words burbled out Emmy realized what she’d said. Her eyes widened with terror, and she shook her head at Alex as if she could convince him he’d misheard.
The catcher’s own eyes widened, but instead of horror, the quirk of a grin played on his lips. “I knew it.”
“No.”
“You can’t tell me I didn’t know something when I did. I knew you were nuts for him.”
“But I barely talk to him. I avoid him.”
“Spending hours privately coaching him in the bullpen is your idea of avoidance? All those early PT calls?” he said, referencing Tucker’s morning physical therapy sessions.
“Those are a requirement for someone in his condition.”
“The coaching sessions aren’t. I’ve seen plenty of dudes come back from Tommy John who don’t get nearly the same kind of attention you give Tucker.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m the one who got this job and they aren’t working for the Felons,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“I’m not arguing you’re good at your job, Emmy. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He pulled out his cellphone and typed something before slipping it back into his jacket pocket. “I don’t even know why you’re getting defensive with me. You just told me outright you love him.”
“I said might.”
“You want to quibble semantics here?”
“Your vocabulary is astonishing when you drink,” Emmy pointed out.
“My vocabulary is always astonishing,” he replied. “The difference is I talk more when I drink.”
“You talk plenty when you’re sober.”
Alex winked at her, then pulled out his phone again.
“Am I interrupting something?” Emmy asked, her annoyance evident from her tone. Cellphones were a big sore point with her. Simon had always spent half of their evenings together replying to text messages or emails, so it tended to get her riled up when people overused technology in her company. She had a phone, she loved her phone, but she knew how to use it appropriately.
Alex had apparently missed the memo.
“Nope,” he said, and pocketed it again. “I’m all ears.” The fact that Alex’s ears stuck out slightly from the side of his head made this statement all the more hilarious to Emmy, who couldn’t hide the snort of laughter before it escaped her.
Alex, clearly no stranger to being teased about his ears, gave her a dirty look. “Real cute.”
“Sorry.”
“Finish your damn story.”
“What was I talking about?”
He sipped his beer. “About being in love with my best friend.”
“Oh.”
“You were telling me why you were going to dump the cheating ex.”
“We don’t know he was cheating.”
“We do know he was cheating.”
“You said yourself, I didn’t catch him in the act.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. Please, let’s continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. It obviously matters now.”
Emmy stuck out her tongue at him. “You’re terrible at being a good girlfriend,” she scolded.
“Are you saying one of your female friends wouldn’t be all, Girl, he’s a dog, you’re better off without his sorry cheating ass.” He snapped his fingers a few times and tossed his imaginary long hair. That time Emmy didn’t bother hiding her laugh.
“Well done.”
“I’m here all week.”
“I didn’t love him anymore,” she admitted.
“Because of Tucker?”
Her cheeks flushed with warmth at the mention of Tucker’s name. A familiar swell of happiness filled her belly and spread out through her, making her extremities tingle and causing her to smile uncontrollably.
“You got it bad,” Alex informed her.
Raising the cold, wet beer bottle to her face, Emmy tried to reduce the telltale redness from her skin, but with all the alcohol she’d had there was no point. She’d be ruddy all night.
“It’s not just Tucker. I think I’d been hanging on to things too long because I was afraid of change.”
Alex hummed the first bar of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”, and Emmy punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow. Christ you pack a wallop for a girl.”
“Maybe the problem is you can’t take a hit like a man,” she snapped back, sick and tired of the phrase for a girl.