Page 57 of Passed Ball

"She's using him for orgasms." Once again, Tenley displays her utter lack of filter.

"Ten!" I whisper-shout.

"Own it, Aunt Vi. That's what it is, a situationship. There's no shame as long as no one gets hurt."

Her warning looms over me and I don't like the way it's becoming a little less possible to not develop feelings for this man with each passing day.

My focus is drawn to where he's stretching on the field only to find him watching me with a lopsided smirk. It packs a punch I know will stick throughout the game and I issue a silent plea that Holland lets me claim that thank you from him.

"Give her a break, Tenley. Your aunt deserves good sex just like the rest of us."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell them we haven't gotten quite that far yet, when a groan comes from next to me. "I'm all for it. In fact, up until recently I'd been trying to hook her up with my hot professor, but I don't want to hear details."

"Why does it feel like she's babysitting us?" Indie asks from the other side of Poppy.

"Because she's more mature than both of you." Lilah laughs and then adds, seriously, "Tenley, would you consider being cloned before this baby arrives?"

"Cloning is a myth, Mama." We all turn to look at my niece who's bouncing Holland in her arms.

"You're a nursing student, a future medical professional--a scientist," I scoff.

"It's true though, I did this whole deep dive on it. There's no irrefutable proof available to the public that Dolly was ever cloned. And there's no way it's real to the extent the government claims, and not one single bad guy has used it to their advantage yet. I'm not buying it."

I shake my head. There's no point in arguing with her, but even if I wanted to, the announcer's voice breaks up the conversation, asking us to stand for the national anthem.

The first two innings are relatively uneventful, and I get some time to talk to the girls that I don't know as well. Honestly,they're all delightful, and I'd be happy to talk to them all night. But the guys have other plans.

With two outs in the bottom of the second inning, Cruz takes the plate. He's the first of the group to bat this inning and sends the ball sailing over the third baseman's head.

For a pregnant woman in her third trimester, Lilah is still incredibly agile--cheering and jumping up and down when her husband rounds third base. She's practically climbing the netting as he kicks up a cloud of dust, sliding headfirst into home plate right in front of us, and I'm afraid she's going to go into labor when he struts over after the ump signals him safe to place a kiss on her belly and then her lips from the field.

Following Cruz's run, it's a parade of baseball boys showing off for their women. One after another, they shamelessly flirt with their significant others while they play.

"You know they're never going to let us go back to sitting in the outfield now," Mia comments when Dean winks at her from outside the batter's box, making a show of adjusting his pants. It's a seemingly innocent gesture as his hand is nowhere near his dick, until he pulls his helmet down, covering his face for everyone not immediately in front of him and winks at his girlfriend.

"Well, shit, I think Mia just got pregnant," Lilah jokes.

"Can't get pregnant twice," Mia says under her breath, her face morphing from dazed to panicked.

We all turn to look and find Mia and Poppy staring at each other wide-eyed, completely missing the at bat.

"Care to repeat that louder for the rest of us?" Lilah laughs while the sisters-in-law glance back and forth between each other. Mia's jaw tenses with worry. We wait while a silent conversation passes between them, both of them crossing their arms and squaring off.

It's Poppy who speaks first. "I didn't hear anything. Did you, Mia?"

"Nope," she says.

Indie's eyes shift back and forth like they're watching that game they play on the jumbotron with the ball under the hat. Finally, she throws up her hands. "Fine, torture us." Indie's voice turns soft. "Please don't let me stop you from sharing your news." She waves a hand in front of her face. "Fucking hormone shots. I promise these are tears of excitement for any news that may or may not be coming."

Holland's sleeping soundly after her bottle and diaper change during the seventh inning stretch. She's been an absolute doll as we passed her around, taking turns cuddling her, the carrier all but forgotten.

Or at least she's trying to sleep soundly, but things get tense in the ninth and I have to pass her to Tenley, who's the least invested in the outcome of the game.

The rest of us are barely hanging on, clinging to the edge of our seats when the Diablos load the bases up for a potentially game-changing rally. With two outs and only one point behind us, they're in position to take the lead. Every pitch ratchets up my pulse. It looks like the Bandits might be in trouble with a full count on the batter, until he fouls it high in the air.

My fingers wrap around the armrest, and I suck in a nervous breath, the ball climbs and climbs, before turning back towards the earth. Xavier rips off his mask, tossing it to the side. Head tilted back, he tracks the ball as it comes closer. It's a race between him and gravity. Using the dugout railing for leverage, he throws his whole body into it, stretching and snagging the ball before he flips over the railing. I swear my heart stops for a moment, and then, when he pops back up with the ball in his glove, it restarts.

The catch ends the game and I absolutely lose it--much to Xavier's delight. He dusts himself off and smirks at me right before his team swarms him and I lose sight of him in the chaos of the celebration.

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