Page 105 of Force Play

We’re a spectacle, and I’m sure everyone in the section is watching the chaos unfold. But I don’t notice because when Dom takes his spot, legs spread, he bends forward at the waist, stretching. Laughter bubbles out of me because that damn red thong is visible, clear as day, through his pants. After a few extra deep stretches, he looks over his shoulder and wiggles his fingers at me, blowing a giant bubble, before he pops up and joins Cruz and Hendrix in playing catch.

Willa leans across Mia to ask, “Have you ever made him wear the thong for you?”

“What do you think?” I ask, holding my hands out towards him. “Have you met this man?”

She simply holds out her hand for a high five and I give her one without a second thought because my man looks good in those baseball pants, but him in a thong, well that’s something I’ll never forget. Maybe because I laughed so hard I got the hiccups.

“I’m so nervous.” Mia’s knee bounces against mine.

“No one wants to lose the last series going into the postseason and Phoenix won’t take a loss lying down tonight,” Delilah says, sounding like a seasoned pro compared to the rest of us. Which makes sense since she’s come to almost every home game for the last four seasons.

“Plus, Phoenix has a chip on their shoulder after being so close to making the postseason and getting knocked out by their loss to the Boston Revs earlier this week,” Willa says matter-of-factly.

All of us turn to look at her.

“What? Just because I’m not sleeping with one of them doesn’t mean I don’t know the sport.” She pops a peanut in her mouth chewing. “But if any of those rookies happen to be single, I wouldn’t kick them out of bed for eating biscotti.”

“You can do better than a rookie. What about the new assistant manager?” Janet says, pointing to where Miller Murphy is standing against the dugout talking to a few of the coaches. “That man looks like he knows a thing or two about how to use his bat.”

“Can we not? I’m right here,” Marv says.

“And yet you still love me.”

“That I do.” He kisses the back of Janet’s hand, settling it into his lap.

A few minutes later, we all turn towards the outfield scoreboard for the national anthem. The first few innings are scoreless, with not much action coming out of either team. But the Bandits get their bats going in the top of the fourth inning with a single from Cruz with two outs. Hendrix drives one into the gap and it takes the left fielder too long to chase it down, leaving Cruz room to score.

The momentum is short-lived when Dom pops one up resulting in the third out and leaving Hendrix on second. Just as Willa predicted, the Roadrunners come out ready to even things up.

My heart is in my throat when Jensen comes up to the plate. It’s the second time today I’ve had to watch him bat, and it hasn’t gotten easier. If anything, the anxiety builds more each time I spot him out there. I was much happier not knowing where he was or what he was doing. Seeing him share the field with Dom makes me hate him even more.

Chewing on my thumb I watch nervously as the Bandits pitcher shakes off Xavier’s sign, not liking what he’s seeing after throwing two balls and one strike. By the time the pitch smacks the leather of Xavier’s glove, I’m practically sweating.

Mia leans close, whispering, “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Fine, just not used to how warm it is here yet. And no damn breeze.” I tug at the collar of my tank top.

When the next pitch is thrown and Jensen strikes out I feel like I can breathe again, especially now that he is back in the dugout, out of my line of sight.

Not today, Douchelord.

For the next few innings, both teams advance runners but strand them before anyone can score. It’s frustrating as hell. With the score still one to zero in the eighth, I’m unraveling at the seams when Dom steps into the batter’s box. “Come on, come on,” I chant quietly to myself while he gets set in his stance.

“He’s got it,” Mia says, taking my hand and squeezing.

He’s laser focused up there, completely zoned in. I feed off his energy, wanting it as bad as he does. He watches the first pitch curving away and steps out of the box, his bat under his arm, and readjusts his elbow guard. The same concentration is etched into his features.

This time when the pitch comes down the middle, he swings, sending it over the shortstop’s head, the ball bouncing in the grass before the outfielders can get there to make the catch.

“Hell fucking yes!” I scream, probably a little too loudly, but oh my god am I proud to call this man mine.

The hit only gets him a single, but with Dean following him in the batting order, Dom breaks away and steals second, sliding headfirst before the catcher can get the ball to Arizona’s second baseman. He pops up from the dirt, brushing his pants off and I swear the smile on his face lights up the whole stadium, or maybe that’s just because I’m fucking gone for this man.

“Look at that smile,” Poppy sings.

“Right?” Why do I sound out of breath?

“Oh honey, she wasn’t talking about him.” Janet laughs, reaching across her granddaughter to pat my knee.

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