Page 51 of SALT

"I can't believe I'm nervous right now. Who am I?" Stormy screeches.

"A girl that wants some post-win action!" I say as I bump her hip.

"Oh, we're not screwing."

"What? Why not… I mean, unless you're waiting for marriage or something. That's totally cool."

She laughs. "No, I'm not waiting for marriage. You're cute. I told you I don't plan on sticking around, and I think we both know Parker isn't exactly fuck buddy material."

I already liked Stormy. Now I might love her a little. She's protecting his heart, which means she cares, and who can't respect that? "Well, damn. I was hoping one of us was getting laid." I grab her arm as Parker winds up. "Okay, this one counts."

Stormy's hand covers mine, and I can feel her tense up. She's into this too. Being a fan is very different when you have a personal connection to the players on the team. His first pitch is a perfect strike, right over the plate. Most first throws with a new pitcher are. Few batters will swing at the first pitch, but this guy not swinging will prove to be his mistake. Parker may not be the closer, but he's every bit as good and doesn't throw the same pitch twice. The difference between the two usually comes down to stamina and the diversity of pitches in their arsenal. Closers usually can't last as long as starters and usually don't have as many quality pitches. He threw the first ball right to him. All he had to do was swing. The next pitch won't be the same.

"Strike two," the ump calls out, and the Bulldogs fans cheer.

"That was his curveball."

"What's a curveball?"

"Seriously?' My grip on the railing slightly loosens before I tighten back up. "Don't worry about it now. All that matters is we need one more out, and he has one pitch left to get it." Technically, he could throw fifteen balls at this guy, but I'm not going to get into that. I'm pushing all my good juju into this next pitch.

He releases the ball, and the stadium practically cheers in unison as it hits the catcher's glove, and I start jumping up and down.

"Did we win? Does that mean we won?"

"No," I laugh. "We still have the ninth inning, but we held them back with bases loaded."

"Is now a good time to pee? I've been holding it for the past two innings, not wanting to miss Parker."

"Yeah, he won't bat, but hurry up."

No sooner than Stormy walks away, Lauren is at my side. After I picked myself up off the floor this morning and got a quick shower, I texted Stormy that I would pick her up just so we didn't have to carpool with Lauren. Riding with her was the last thing I wanted to do, but after I sent the text, I followed it up with a never mind. Your odds of winning your battles are greater when you know your enemy. I've had worse enemies. One that greets you while double-fisting two beers isn't too bad.

"Hey, I saw you had one of these, so I thought I'd grab you another while I got one for myself," Lauren says, stepping to my side.

I guess this isn't one of those stadiums that cuts the beer off early. Most minor league stadiums aren't, and this is a smaller venue that doesn't have the same backing as the Bulldogs.

"Thanks, can't turn down a free beer."

My eyes study her mannerisms as she sidles up to the rail to stand next to me. She is very pretty, and on the ride here, she and Stormy talked about the road trip they took through the Smoky Mountains last fall. Apparently, they broke down on the side of the road and ended up walking for two miles until they found a cabin where they could bum the Wi-Fi. When they walked up, they discovered the renters were there for a bachelor party. It sounded like they had a blast, and as I listened, a big part of me was jealous. I didn't get to have those experiences. I'm not sure I would have ever had them with my mom, but I know I would have had them with my dad.

"Are all the games this intense?" Lauren asks before drinking her beer.

"At this level, yes, most games are close. Sometimes you run into a team that's playing just for fun, but most of the time, it's pretty competitive." She nods as she scans the field. "Do you follow baseball, or is this an Everett thing?"

My comment about Everett doesn't faze her in the least, which leads me to believe she was expecting it. "I'm not a stranger to the sport. I dated a few players back in my day, but I don't turn it on TV or go to games for the joy of it. As far as your Everett comment goes…" She glances at me and cocks a brow. "You think Everett would be easily duped by a fair-weather fan like me?"

"No," I answer surely, even though I know she already knew that. But I play along.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. Good thing that with age comes a few new tricks."

Before I can respond or give her comment any real thought, the sound of a ball clanging off a bat steals my focus as I watch Gunner hit a home run.

"No freaking way!" I say as I watch him round the bases. A home run in the ninth in a tied game is just what we needed. I know that run just pumped up the bench. There is no way the guys are going to lose now. I feel it in my soul.

"What did I miss?" Stormy says, stepping up to my right.

"Number nine just hit a home run," Lauren answers.

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