Page 146 of Nothing Like the Movies

And then she lowered her eyes to the camera, as if she didn’t want me to see her at all.

“What the heck, Bennett?”

I looked away from her, only to see Mick with his hand raisedlike he was waiting to throw me the ball. He shook his head and grinned like I was hilarious. “Maybe pay attention, you lovesick piece of shit.”

“Shut up and throw,” I muttered, embarrassed now on top of everything else.

Wesley, you’re gonna screw up. Guaranteed.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and did I mention I’m in love with you?”

—Descendants 3

Liz

I want to go home.

I watched Wes go back to playing catch, and my stomach was so full of nerves that I was pretty sure I could vomit on command. Because the way he’d looked at me from the field, after everything he’dsaidto me in the office, was just too overwhelming.

“Perfect day,” the guy behind me said, and he wasn’t wrong. It was sunny and warm, without a cloud in the sky, and since it was the last scrimmage before fall ball ended, the place was packed.

I didn’t care, though, because I couldn’t think about anything but the pitcher.

I will feel this way about you for the rest of my life.

Dear God, who said things like that?

Clark had been extraordinarily nice to me on the way over, mostly because I’d burst into tears after Wes left the office, butthat somehow made it worse. I needed to forget everything and work, so when we got to the field and Lilith was waiting for us, I was relieved. She was in producer mode, all geared-up, and immediately asked for a favor.

“What’s up?” I’d asked, reaching into the pocket of my bag to pull out my sunglasses.

“Do you think you can sit in the stands and get some shots of the fans?” She turned and pointed her arm in the direction of home plate. “And I want some stillsfromthe stands, like a fan’s-eye view of the game. Can you do that?”

Could I do that?Could I put myself in a position tonothave to engage with Wes—or the entire team?

She couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful favor that day.

“Of course,” I’d said, nodding. “Tell me everything you need.”

Instead of being near the dugout, she wanted me with the crowd. So I wandered around before the game, taking photos of fans as they bought concessions and basically looked like walking advertisements for UCLA baseball.

It was escapism from the stress of figuring out what to do about Wes, thank God.

The only problem was that once he took the field for warm-ups, he was my focal point. If I looked straight ahead, there he was.

The center point of my sight line.

And it was impossible for me to tear my eyes away.

I’d always been obsessed with the way he looked when he was playing baseball, but that afternoon, after everything he’d just said to me, I couldn’t stop looking at him.

I exist to exist alongside of you.

But then he saw me.

I gasped and looked away, but not before meeting stormy brown eyes that felt like they could read my very soul.

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