Page 102 of The Shake Off

Ace and Parker walked out, heads together for a minute before throwing up a high five and going their separate ways. Ace’s face filled the jumbo screens, concentration etched over it as he stood tall and prepared to deliver.

The first White Sox guy walked to home plate.

Ace pitched.

The bat made contact… and the ball flew straight into Tanner’s outstretched hand.

“Bummer for them,” chuckled Lowe, before cupping her hands around her mouth and hollering, “GO LIONS!!”

It was only the third ball Ace pitched which got the White Sox to base. Third base in fact, where the batter was now having a laugh with Jupiter. The fourth pitch went the way of the first and second balls, and unfortunately for the guy on third base, he didn’t make it home before the ball, and was caught out.

The Lions walked off the field less than ten minutes after they’d arrived.

Ace was the one to leave last, too focused on whatever he and Parker were planning for next time. He looked around, searching through the crowds above us, before suddenly, out of nowhere, he focused on me. Surprise and a broad grin spread over his face. My heart came to a stuttering, spluttering stop. Even under the black rim of his baseball cap, his blue eyes pierced the darkness as he looked directly at me, and right before he stepped into the dugout, his grin widened and he threw me a wink before disappearing out of sight.

It was too much to hope no one had seen it; all four of the girls I was with let out a little sigh – the same one we’d given Marnie earlier.

“Don’t,” I warned Kit before she could say a word.

The butterflies returned at full flutter, just like they had in his apartment; only this time, I wished I wasn’t picturing their wings crashing against glass as they tried to get back to the light.

“One down, seventeen to go,” Beulah said and picked up her beer with a grin, then nodded at the jumbo screen. “Hey, Pay, you’ve got some competition.”

The camera zoomed in on a line of girls who were clearly Ace Watson fans.

Nine of them in total, each wearing a different letter of his name. The girl in the middle, a blonde with a skirt, though that was a generous description, was holding up a large piece of cardstock that said she had a question for Ace.

Something I wholeheartedly blamed Marnie for.

“Where’s the originality these days,” I grumbled to no one in particular.

But then the screen split; one half still on the girl, who’d spotted herself on the screen and now looked like she was about to burst from excitement and her five seconds of fame, and one half of Ace in the dugout with Parker next to him.

I watched mutely as Parker whispered something to Ace, which had him looking up. His smile grew wider as he muttered back to Parker and had me wishing I could trade every skill in my arsenal just to know how to lip read.

Especially when Parker threw his head back in a laugh.

A thick bolt of jealously punctured me square in the chest, nearly winding me in the process. I didn’t get jealous. I didn’t do jealousy. It was one of those emotions that signaled nothing good. It opened you up for pain and hurt as you inhaled quarts of ice cream while you watched Nancy Meyers movies on repeat.

My mother had spent half her life being jealous, and it had got her nowhere.

As far as I was concerned, jealousy was totally pointless.

Ask any baseball fan and they’ll tell you baseball is a rollercoaster of emotions, but they’re likely talking about the entire game. Their focus isn’t concentrated on one sole player, like mine was.

It didn’t make the rollercoaster any less emotional, however.

I wanted to reply to Beulah that they were welcome to Ace, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

For the rest of the game, I watched, I cheered, and I screamed when The Lions eventually won.

And tried my hardest to ignore the niggling in the back of my head, telling me something I didn’t want to hear.

* * *

“Hey, Baby…” Ace stopped talking, his eyes widened in panic as he clocked Lowe next to me. “Payton. I mean, Payton, hello.”

I’d never seen Ace look awkward before, not this awkward, as his gaze darted between me and Lowe, checking to see if he’d fucked up somehow.

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