Page 52 of Caught Looking

Seth batted third or fourth depending on the lineup. Today he batted fourth. I watched as he took his practice swings in the on-deck circle. He was focused, chatting with the hitting coach who was saying something from the dugout.

“But I don’t understand,” Nan sighed. Jeri was trying to teach her baseball. It was not going well. “Why is it called cleanup?”

“Because,” I answered for her, “theoretically, at least one of the first three batters will get on base. The fourth batter cleans up the bases.”

“Oh…so they pick the guy who is best at hitting the ball to do that.”

“Yeah.” Jeri grinned. “Our Sethy-poo has a real knack for it.”

Sethy-poo?“Lead-off is the first batter. Generally you want a guy who is good at always getting on base. Second batter, too. Third batter you want someone with power. And fourth, cleanup, is your power hitter. Seth isn’t the most powerful batter on the team, but because he has this knack for making big plays, they tend to bat him fourth.” My mouth went dry as he stepped around home plate, his eyes locked on me. He grinned, eyebrows bouncing, then faced the plate. I sighed.

“What do you mean by knack?” Nan asked. “Like how I always know just the right angle to pass you the ball?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Jeri said. “Seth is what’s called a clutch hitter. When the chips are down, when the game is on the line, and especially when everyone else has done their job to line up a big play, Seth always comes through.”

Seth always comes through.That was what Jeri kept trying to get me to understand. No matter what he’d done in his personal life since he had his heart broken, he’d never changed who he was on the field. Seth always came through.

That’s who he was.

That certainty settled me.

And just like he always did, Seth hit a line drive into the gap, allowing the two men who were on base to score. He slid into second base clapping, doing his signature hand gesture to the dugout while the scoring runners received jewels from Isaac to place in the team’s treasure chest. They had nicknamed Isaac the Captain and the dugout had leaned hard into the pirate theme this season. Rhett claimed he hated it but even he couldn’t hide his smile when he got to add to the treasure chest.

On his next at-bat Seth came straight to me. “Hey. How’s it going?”

I leaned into the netting, my forehead touching his as our fingers tangled with the mesh. “We’re having fun. Especially since you gave us an early lead.”

He shrugged. “I had to show off.”

I grinned like a fool. “Is this real?” I whispered. It didn’t feel possible to be this happy.

“If it’s a dream then I don’t want to wake up. Gotta go, babe.” He shot me another wink and strode to the plate, all sexy and confident. His swagger made me weak. So did his ass. And his back. And his shoulders.

The girls all made kissy noises. And this time I ignored the cell phones pointed my way. But I did let the smiles soak in. Seeing Seth be soft for me, seeing me here to support him, made these people happy. Was it weird to have my relationship documented for other people to view? Yeah. But at least it brought them joy.

The game got interesting in the ninth when Cleveland tied it up. Going into the ninth and final inning the crowd was nervous. Restless. The first two batters went down fast. Cleveland had their closer in. The pitcher threw right around one hundred miles an hour every time. It was almost impossible for even the best batters to hit, especially with the movement he put on the ball.

“Wait, so why are some strikes a K and others a backwards K?” Charley asked, her nose scrunched as she looked at the line of Ks lit up on the outfield wall.

“If you strike out swinging, meaning you missed the ball, that’s a regular K. But if you strike out without swinging, meaning you watched the pitcher throw a strike, you’re caught looking. They mark that with a backwards K,” I muttered. I was nervous. Hunter Holland really needed to get his ass on base.

“But…why?”

“These baseball types get real crunchy with their stats,” Jeri answered for me. “They like to know who swung and who got so stunned all they could do was stare at the amazing beauty of a perfect pitch.”

“It doesn’t have to be a perfect pitch…” I stopped talking when I saw the satisfied smirk on Jeri’s face.

She said all that for me. “Are you insinuating—”

“That you’ve stunned Seth Butler? Yes.”

I gulped.

“When you’re around all he can see is you, Ryan. And he’s usually so busy staring at you that he forgets about everything else. So, you know, don’t forget that the next time you let your head overthink everything.”

I wasn't overthinking. I was being careful, not that Jeri cared. It was important to make sure I was taking care of myself. Because no one else would. Approaching something as big as this, something that involved my heart, required caution.

Oh fuck.

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