Page 59 of The Strike Zone

I stood, stretching out my thighs and glutes, while Ace jogged over from the mound and we walked to the dugout together.

I tapped my fist to his. “Nice work.”

“We’re on fire today.”

We were heading into bottom of the third against the Marlins, at Lions Stadium, and up by two runs to nothing.

Even though there was still over half the game left to play, there was an extra special buzz in the air that felt a lot like winning. It was all to do with us playing at home.

At Lions Stadium.

I’d been in every major league stadium in North America several times over, but I’d never felt anything like the electricity that ran through the fans when we stepped onto Lions field.

It made winning that extra bit sweeter, and I knew that’s where we were headed today. I could feel it deep in my bones.

Ace and I were syncing beautifully, more of the Marlins than not had been sent off without making first base. Today, the field was nothing more than a paint-by-numbers exercise, the Marlins’ defense was predictable to the point of boring. It was like they hadn’t even tried to make this difficult for us.

Yeah, we were definitely heading for a win.

Ducking my head, I stepped down into the dugout and took a seat next to the pitcher’s chair—Ace’s chair—as the rest of the guys made their way off the field.

Our current team had been playing together for a few seasons now, give or take a couple of transfers and the new rookies, but we’d spent hundreds of hours in the dugout that I could close my eyes and tell you exactly what was about to happen.

Saint Velasquez, our Puerto Rican right field, would be first in line for snacks, ripping open a packet of the sunflower seeds he loved so much while yelling out calls for the guy up at bat, no matter how many times Coach told him to stop.

Jupiter Reeves would grab a bottle of the blue Gatorade, take one sip, snatch up his bat and helmet, then make his way to the bullpen because he was always first at bat.

The rest of the guys would file in; some would find their coaches, some would grab snacks and drinks, and some would sit in silence for a minute, thinking about the next inning.

“Heads up,” yelled Tanner, and I turned just in time to find a protein bar hurtling toward me, snatching it right before it hit me in the face.

I should have kept my cage on.

“A little more notice next time.” I frowned at him as he dropped onto the bench next to me.

“Sorry.” He took a swig of the apple juice he was holding and passed it to me, leaning around to peer at Ace. “Hey, Lucky Aces, your pitching is on fire today.”

Ace finished the bottle of water he was guzzling down like he’d been in the desert for a month, and tossed it into the trash. Given he wouldn’t be at bat, he didn’t need to worry about water sloshing around his belly as he ran bases. Not like the rest of us.

A wide grin split his face as he looked back at Tanner. “It fucking is. Isn’t it?”

“Is Payton here?”

“Yeah, she’s up with the girls.” He thumbed in the general direction of the stands behind us, though really, he was aiming for the owners’ box.

Payton Lopez, Ace’s girlfriend, happened to be best friends with Penn Shepherd’s wife, and therefore whenever Payton came to games, she mostly watched up there.

She said it was because she didn’t like being surrounded by hundreds of girls all wearing Ace Watson shirts and screaming about how hot he was. But she’d also admitted it was because she didn’t like standing in line for drinks.

“Where’s Weston?” Tanner asked.

I nodded to the end of the dugout where Lux was talking to his coach, head bent down in concentration at whatever he was being told. Tanner didn’t seem to care, however, and if the umpire hadn’t burst my ear drum with his call, Tanner’s voice nearly did.

“Weston!”

“Tan, what the fuck?” I grunted, attempting to stop the ringing in my ear as Lux, along with everyone else in the dugout, including all the coaches, turned their attention to Tanner waving emphatically.

Tanner was just about to start shouting again when Lux made his way over, likely at the urging of Coach to get Tanner to stop making so much noise.

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