Page 21 of Last Fall

“How are you doing, Erik? That ankle still giving you trouble?” Juneasked.

He held out his foot and rolled it in a circle. “Goodasnew.”

“What happened?” I asked before I thought about the fact that I was intentionally inserting myself into theconversation.

His eyes skipped to mine and the faintest smile turned up the corner of his gorgeousmouth.

And yep, my heart beat a littlefaster.

“Bad slide into third base today. I was more worried about the stupid third baseman than my ankle.” He shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders bunching in a way that made my lady bits roartolife.

Downgirl.

I could easily pick out the Mantas players in the crowd. They were the built guys with the most gorgeous arms I’d ever seen in my life. But Erik was more beautiful than all of them put together. When he flexed I didn’t just admire his strength. The picture of his body moving against mine always popped into my head. It was involuntary and I seemed to have no control over the mental images whatsoever. Normally this ability made me a good writer, but in real life it made me a nervouswreck.

I cleared my throat. “Well, you and Chow have been friends since Little League.” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing all too late how revealing that little bit ofinformationwas.

I saw both Erik and June’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve been listening,” she chuckled. “Can you believe this girl had never even watched a game when shemovedhere?”

Baseball wasn’t on my dad’s list of interests and my mother didn’t care for sports at all. There weren’t many sports of any kind in my life before Eve hired me, something that was a constant state of amazement to her and Jake. Everyone in their world had something to do with baseball. No matter where I turned in this house, someone was either working in baseball or married to someonewhowas.

Erik shifted on his feet, almost as if he werenervous.

Which made menervous.

I tried to shake it off. “Yeah, well, you guys kind of make it fun,” Ishrugged.

No one bought myanswer.

“C’mon, this is the third time you’ve dropped stats on me in the last month.” June punched my arm. “Admit it...you’ve fallen in love with baseball.” She waited for my answer with the most hopeful expressionherface.

And while I really wanted to deny it just so they couldn’t suck me any further into their world, I knew there was no way I could lie. “Fine. Ilikeit.”

“No,” she chided, “Youloveit.” She slipped onto the counter, leaning forward. “Is it the hotties like this guy?” She jerked her thumb over at Erik, “Or do you have a secret competitive side we don’t knowabout?”

Oh, if she only knew. Writers were knockdown, drag-out competitive. It just wasn’t as obvious. “Neither.”

Erik stilled beside me while June frowned in confusion. “Well then whatisit?”

How did I explain that the game fascinated me? That the decades of stats and information, combined with the passion entire families felt for their teams did something strange to my insides? Made me feel apart of something greater for the first time in my life? Then it occurred to me...maybe these were the people I didn’t need to explain it to. Theyalreadyknew.

“It’s different than other sports. There’s so much history. I could get lost in the information for weeks and there’d still be a lifetime more to learn.” I snuck a glance at Erik to see if he thought I was nuts, but his face was blank as he stared at me with so much intensity it almost knocked the wind out of me. “I don’t know...most of you have spent your whole lives playing the game. It’s notpartof your life, itisyour life. I want a little bit of that, too.” A blush crept all the way up my chest until it burned my cheeks. I was the kind of person who embarrassed easily and I hated that it was always on display for everyonetosee.

It would be nice to keep some things to myself from timetotime.

June placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me to her for a hug. “You’re part of it. Period. As much asyouwant.”

I let her hug me for a few seconds before I stepped back. Hugs always made me uncomfortable. How long were you supposed to embrace? Was I supposed to pat her back? Would squeezing be too much? It was so complicated and not a dance I wasfamiliarwith.

Atall.

So while I tried really hard to understand this affectionate social convention, I honestly sucked at it. “Anyway, yeah. I’ve taken a liking to the sport and am enjoying itimmensely.”

Luckily I was saved from any further sentimentalization byRoman.

“June! I need your help!” her husband called. Roman, was standing on the other side of the porch with the enormous unicornbirthdaycake.

“Aunt duty calls!” she cooed, leaping off the counter and bounding over to herhusband.

---