Page 91 of The Show

Now it was my turn to snort. “Yeah, because he’d agree to that, and she’sdefinitelygoing to think we’re all totally sane.”

“We’ll be fine. We’ll just get Lauren to tell everyone she’s a doctor again.” Kit let out a giggle, and then she couldn’t stop, and soon we’d all joined in, laughing until our sides hurt and tears poured down our cheeks.

“Hey! I save lives one lollypop at a time!” Lauren gasped out.

“What could the four of you be laughing about that’s so important you’re missing what’s happening on the field?” Penn’s voice jolted me like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, which I hadn’t, so I couldn’t quite understand why I was now brushing myself down while guiltily sitting up straighter.

“Marriage and babies.” Lauren, always the shit stirrer, grinned up at the three of them all now wearing Jungle Kings ball caps, “But don’t worry, Penny, we counted you out.”

“Did you now?”

I didn’t look at Penn, but I did notice Rafe because he suddenly jolted just like I had, and as I looked at him, his eye twitched very slightly, even though the rest of him had stilled. But I didn’t get a chance to think about it any further because I was nudged hard in the ribs by Lauren, who was pointing to the field when I turned to her to object.

A huge cheer went through the crowd; a sea of orange rippled in the stands across from us as a ball hurtled its way through the air, a thousand sets of hands waving around to try and catch it. However, they had competition on the field from a guy on the opposing team who was sprinting back, back, back, before scaling the bleachers like spiderman. Sadly for him, he missed it. Good for Penn, though, who was cheering so loudly as he jumped around hugging Rafe and Murray it would be a miracle if he had any voice left. Even Barclay, who was now sporting an orange bow-tie, was jumping in excitement.

“Who’s the batter?” asked Murray, after he’d let go of the boys.

“Guy called Tanner Simpson; he plays shortstop. His swing comes through like a freight train. Got drafted last year from Vanderbilt. Decent right?”

“Yeah, you gonna bring him up?”

“Yeah, thinking about it.”

We were close enough to the field that we didn’t need to watch the big screen to get a good look at Tanner Simpson as he ran past the home plate and stepped into the dugout, with a big smile on his face. In fact, we could probably have wiped the sweat from his brow if we’d reached far enough. The little sigh both the girls to the left and right of me let out told me they were all thinking exactly the same thing.

Kit leaned over, keeping out of earshot of the boys behind us, though they were still too engrossed in the game to notice, “Gosh, he’s handsome. What is it about a guy with blue eyes and dimples?”

“Yeah, imagine him in a Lion’s jersey next to Jupiter Reeves. We’d be running the best looking team in the league,” replied Beulah, in an equally hushed voice.

Lauren clapped her hands together. “Baseball is fun. We should definitely come to more games together.”

“You haven’t even been watching.” Penn leaned down between us, making Lauren jump.

We all turned round, all equally indignant; the indignation obviously having been buoyed by the three beers we’d all had each.

“How do you know?” we asked in unison.

He thumbed behind him. “Because my box is right behind you, and we’ve been standing up there the whole time. You barely even noticed the field.”

I could hear the amusement in his voice, and for the first time since we left the restaurant, he looked directly at me, which was when I knew I’d been busted. That he’d seen me glancing round and watching every minute for when he’d walk down the steps to our seats. How had I not noticed the upper tier of executive boxes with their own balconies?

Because I was too focused on the goddamn steps!

His raised eyebrow had me biting down hard on my lip, doing my best to focus on the pain to stop the laugh from escaping, but it did anyway; barreling up my throat until I barked it out.

“What’s so funny?” asked Lauren.

“Nothing.” I turned away from where Penn was still standing with a smirk plastered across his face.

Tanner Simpson’s homerun was the first notch on the scoreboard for either team. By the fourth inning, The Jungle Kings were still only leading by one - nothing, but the excitement levels hadn’t seemed to have dwindled because of it. The Jungle Kings fans watching didn’t seem to care that there’d only been one home run, or that there hadn’t been another score - especially from all the cheering and singing taking place around us while the teams changed positions.

Discounting the three separate baseball stadiums I’d visited this week - The Jungle Kings included - I hadn’t been to many games in my life, but I knew enough to see a marked difference in the atmosphere surrounding us. While all games buzzed with a unique electricity, here in White Plains, everything was a little bit more chilled, more fun, more relaxed. Even Penn was standing, laughing with the boys, beer in one hand and stroking Barclay’s silky ears with the other; a dramatic contrast from the seriousness of how he’d scrutinized The Lions game two nights ago, his eagle eye missing nothing. Even when we’d been at Dodger Stadium earlier in the week, he’d stood rigid, his jaw clenched as he studied the field, the plays, and Jupiter Reeves.

I wasn’t sure which one I preferred either.

Moving to one side as Kit and Lauren left to go to the bathroom and search for the popcorn guy, my purse buzzed. Reaching in for my phone, I nearly dropped it when the screen flashed with a message.

Penn:Meet me behind the blue bleachers on the far side of the stadium. Ten minutes.

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