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Impossibly, the blond—Davis—grins bigger. “You gonna introduce me?”
Caleb sighs, but he’s smiling. “Lennon, this is Nick Davis, our third baseman. Davis, this is my girlfriend, Lennon.”
Davis—or Nick, I’m not sure what to call him—holds a hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, Lennon. Don’t worry, I’ve heard all the jokes before.”
“All the jokes about—oh.” I realize.
Nick chuckles, probably in response to my blush. “We were sure Winters was making you up.”
I smile, but there’s a spasm of guilt in my stomach. Selfishly, I never really considered things from Caleb’s perspective.
Aside from having to make the three-hour trip to Landry, I figured me never coming to Clarkson didn’t bother him. I’m antisocial on my best day and bored by baseball. Now, I’m realizing how unfair that was. Caleb would come to Landry to fit himself into my life—spending time with Gramps and taking care of the horses—while I’ve never made any effort to step into his.
“Hey, Torres,” Nick calls out. “Come meet Winters’s girl.”
Instead of just one guy, five amble our way.
“We’ve gotta head—” Caleb starts.
I shake my head at him. “I want to stay.”
He studies me, clearly surprised. But in a good way, I think. There’s a warmth in his eyes that turns my insides to goo before I turn to meet more of his teammates.
* * *
Eight hours later, I park beside the barn. After breakfast, Caleb took me on a walk around campus. And then I had to leave. Come back to my responsibilities here.
Touring Clarkson’s campus, I could see it. I could picture myself there. I finally understand why people say college is more than an academic step. At RCC, I go to class and come home. It’s never felt all that different from high school. But Clarkson felt like a whole other world. Itisits own world.
And that appeals to me more than I thought it would. But being back in Landry, stepping out of the truck to survey the familiar acres that make up Matthews Farm?
My feelings are all snarled up again.
I head inside the farmhouse to dump my overnight bag and grab a snack. My appetite seems to have finally returned. I swap out my sneakers for a pair of paddock boots and walk out into the field to fetch Geiger. Gallie isn’t thrilled about being left behind, racing back and forth along the fence line as soon as the gate clangs shut behind his pasture-mate.
I tack Gallie up and head in the direction of the training track. Then come to a sudden stop.
Caleb’s truck is parked next to mine.
I blink at the black vehicle, certain I’m imagining it. I’ve barely been home a half hour. Caleb would have had to leave Clarkson just after I did.
No matter how many times I blink, the truck is still there.
“Caleb?” I finally call out, feeling foolish.
No answer.
I continue toward the training track and there he is, leaning up against one of the few posts still standing. Caleb straightens and smiles when he sees me, unknotting the fear he’s here because something is wrong.
“Uh, what are you doing here?”
He drops my gaze, looking down at the dirt track. My eyes focus on the white papers he’s tapping against his thigh.
“Caleb?” I prompt.
He sighs. “I was just going to have the bank send these to you, but I decided it would be better to give them to you in person. The mail wasn’t delivered until after you’d already left, and I wasn’t sure how to tell… It doesn’t matter. Here.”
Caleb closes the few feet between us and holds the papers out to me.
