Page 107 of Stealing Home

“He’s so hot. I wonder if he’ll start coming back to the team parties now that he’s back on the team?” one of the girls questions.

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend or something?” another one asks.

Another one scoffs, and I can’t fight the urge to look back. A quick peek over my shoulder shows me there are three of them sitting together. “Please, he’s an athlete. They don’t settle down, not at this age.”

Bess reaches out and squeezes my hand. I soak up the comfort she’s offering, but the panic doesn’t come. In the past, just the insinuation he might cheat would have set me off, but I’m not afraid anymore. I smile at her. “I’m okay. They don’t know him, and I don’t think they really want to. He’s just an object to them, and he’s too smart to fall for that.”

Wren smiles. “I’m impressed. It wasn’t long ago when something like that would have sent you spiraling into insecurity.”

I shrug. “What can I say? He finally convinced me.” They both continue to gawk at me. “Seriously. I’m not going to freak out.”

After the playing of the national anthem, Scott retakes the mound. The hair on my arm stands up, and it feels like the entire stadium is electrified seeing him standing there. The crowd collectively holds its breath as he winds up for the first pitch. There’s a hush, and when he releases the ball it hums through the air. The thwack it makes when it hits Taylor’s glove brings a gasp out of the crowd.

Again and again, the ball hits the glove. Three batters step up to the plate, and in rapid succession Scott sends all three back to their dugout. This goes on for several innings with several of the Tigers getting runs when it’s their turn at bat.

It isn’t just the crowd that is energized. There seems to be new life breathed into the team. At least most of them. My least favorite player on the team seems to grow more unhappy the better they are doing. Campbell Chase, left fielder, glares at Scott’s back the longer the opposing team goes without so much as a foul ball.

Before the start of the ninth inning an argument breaks out in the dugout. We can’t see anyone from where we’re sitting, but it isn’t hard to guess that it’s Campbell arguing he should get a turn on the mound since they’re so far ahead. Coach Tucker shuts him down quickly and Scott takes the mound for the final time this game.

Maybe the opposing team came thinking they were going to find the rudderless Tigers they’d been while Scott had been off the team. Still, no matter the humiliating score, they keep their cool and conduct themselves with pride. That’s more than some of the Tigers could say.

The moment the last batter is out, the Tigers start running in from the outfield. Campbell throws his glove down and runs straight at Scott, who is receiving praise from the rest of the team for pitching a no-hitter and winning their first game in weeks.

“Is he going to hit Scott?” Bess whispers.

I nod, unable to take my eyes off the field. “Yeah, they don’t like each other much.”

“Clearly,” she replies as we both watch Campbell try and push through the adoring crowd to get to Scott.

“It’s not the Scott Ryan show!” The harder he fights to get to him, the louder he shouts, making it so we can hear some of what he says over the cheering. One of his complaints is that the scouts won’t be looking at the other players if they don’t get a chance to show what they can do.

Will Arnold, who plays third base, rushes to get in between Scott and Campbell. He holds him back pretty easily. Max rushes from first base and lands a right hook almost knocking Campbell out. Before he can hit him again, because it’s clear he wants to, Tucker gets in between them.

“This is not who we are,” he yells.

“Ryan get out of here. Hit the showers and go home. The rest of you drag your asses to the dugout. We’re not stepping one foot off of this field until we have a chat,” Tucker finishes.

Scott works his way out of the crush of athletes and fans and comes up to the fence in front of us. “C’mere, gorgeous,” he beckons.

Wren nudges me in the back. “Go, get your man.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I run down the bleachers and let him help me climb the fence.

Hand in hand we run back to the training facility. “What are we doing?” I ask while he drags me down the hallway to the locker room.

Scott lets go of my hand and pulls his jersey over his head. “Celebrating,” he replies and kicks off his cleats.

Each piece of his uniform is discarded until he stands naked in front of me in the shower. He turns the knobs, and checks the temperature. Once he’s satisfied with the temperature, he crooks his finger for me to join him.

Looking back over my shoulder, I say, “Someone could catch us?” We both know my protest is half-hearted at best as I start to toe off my shoes.

“That’s my girl,” Scott praises, as he quickly rinses off the sweat and dirt from the game.

My body trembles with nerves as I cross from the bench where I set my clothes to where he’s standing under one of the many shower heads in the room. It’s just another reminder that this is a very public location, and the rest of the team could be in here any moment.

“We have to hurry,” I urge him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead he lazily draws his hands up and down my body as though we have all the time in the world.

His lips slide up the skin of my neck and stop to suck on the sensitive spot under my ear. “They could come in here any minute, see you wet, and naked, begging for my touch, and still I’d take my time. I don’t just want you wet from the shower.”

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