Page 65 of Mom Ball

“Uh, Tami.”

“Oh.” She slaps a palm to her head. “Are y’all like together?”

Nate and I lock eyes. There’s a lingering silence between us, and I halfway wish he’d answer one way or another.

“Gotcha.” Tami laughs. “Been there. Anyways . . . I’m about to go take a snap break.”

“Snap break?” This must be some teenager lingo I haven’t heard.

“Yeah, I have a smoke, then a nap.”

Nate lifts his chin, then cuts his eyes back to me with a half smirk.

Tami fans a hand. “Don’t worry. I pass the baby off to someone before doing that.”

I nod. “Good to know.”

“Y’all kids have fun.” She struts past us and slaps Nate on the butt.

He jumps, and I burst out laughing. He holds his butt and watches her leave with a disgusted face. “I can’t say I didn’t expect to feel violated today. But I can say I expected it to happen at the park.”

I laugh more and he joins me.

More people drive up, and I remember the tablecloths in my hand. I start to unfold one, and Nate takes it. “Let me help you.”

He flaps open the cloth, sending his scent soaring and putting his biceps on full display. I blink and focus on the other cloth still in my hand.

We cover the two serving tables in time for Morgan to come out with food. “Hope I’m not interrupting,” she says sweetly.

I give her a dirty look and she bats her eyelashes.

“I can bring out more food.” Nate climbs the steps.

I follow him inside, keeping my eyes on the door. I can’t look at Nate’s butt or Morgan. Both are equally dangerous on different levels.

Mama made small baseball-shaped candies from white chocolates. Nate grabs that tray and grins. “Remember that coffee place we found that had all the chocolate-flavored stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it still around?”

I nod. “I still go there sometimes when I’m in Tuscaloosa.”

“Huh.” He pops a chocolate in his mouth and chews, then swallows. “We should go sometime.”

“We should. Timothy’s never been.”

He looks at me. “I meant just me and you.”

My heart beats faster, and I catch my breath.

He grabs another tray and brushes past me in the doorway. I slowly pick up some plates and cups, trying to snap out of whatever trance I entered since he arrived.

Nate laughs with my friends and their kids as he helps set up the food. Then he shakes my dad’s hand and helps him push the grill out of the way.

He would fit into my life seamlessly. That is, until he has to report back to Atlanta for ball.

And that brings me back to the reason I chose this solo life for myself and Timothy.

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