by Harlow James
“You gonna make it back in time to pick me up before the game?” Gramps changes the subject while sorting through the sections of his paper just like he always does every morning.
Living with our grandpa for the past nine years makes it easy to see that this man is truly a creature of habit. Ever since I got my driver’s license, it’s been my job to take Conner to school while grandpa spends exactly one hour in his chair reading through the latest news in the paper, and more importantly, the sports statistics of every game currently in season.
“We should be. And Lochlin is meeting us there.”
Tonight is the next home game of the season for the OC Rays. They’ve been on the road for the last week and a half.
Lochlin Murphy is the Rachel to my Monica, although she’s more of a cross between Phoebe and Rachel than just one of them in particular. If you’ve never watched the show FRIENDS, look it up. It will change your life.
As far as best friends go, she’s THE epitome of one. I’ve known this girl since grade school. We’ve gone through everything together, even got our periods during the same week in seventh grade. She was there when Conner was born and when our parents died and we moved in with my grandpa. She’s had my back throughout every awkward and debilitating phase through high school, even punched a boy in the face when he dumped me because I wouldn’t blow him. And now we both attend UC Irvine, preparing to officially enter adulthood.
“Oh, that girl is coming to a good game. The Yankees and the Rays are both rumored to be teams to beat this year.”
“I know Gramps. I saw the ESPN report too, remember?”
“Ok, I’m ready,” Conner declares as he descends the final steps of the staircase, his backpack hoisted over his shoulder. His hair looks exactly like it did when he woke up, just matted down now by a gel of some sort.
“What the hell took you so long?”
“Relax, Dani. I’m ready, okay?” He answers with an eye roll, his newly acquired signature move. “Let’s get going before smoke and fire come out of your ears.”
Conner leans over Gramps’ chair to give him a hug before he walks out the front door towards the car.
I let out a long sigh. “That kid is taking years off my life, one day at a time.”
Gramps looks up at me with a side-eye gaze. “Newsflash, Dani. Everyone’s life is getting shorter one day at a time,” he winks at me. “Take a deep breath and have a good day. You’re almost done.”
“I know Gramps. Thanks. Love you,” I kiss him on the cheek before making my way to the car and heading for Conner’s school.
Once I drop off my brother, who did a double-take in his visor mirror before exiting my car, I race over to campus and make it just in time for the start of my eight o’clock class. Thursdays are my long day of classes, so by the time four o’clock hits, my brain is toast and California freeways provide me with less than thrilling entertainment as I battle rush hour traffic to make it home. Thank God for good music to pick up my mood. I arrive just in time to pick up Conner and Gramps so we can make the seven o’clock game at the stadium.
Since the Rays were on the road for the last week and a half, that meant I had ten days to over-analyze my eye contact with Jake Calhoun. The man even made a few appearances in my dreams where he confidently demonstrated how well he knows how to swing his bat, pun intended.
I’ve never been one to shy away from appreciating a fine-looking man, but number twenty-three has rendered me stupid. He’s just a baseball player in a uniform I’ve seen on countless men since my childhood. He’s one guy out of millions in the world, or even just the millions of men in southern California for that matter. But no matter how hard I try to shake off that moment when our eyes connected, my gut tells me there was more to it than just coincidental timing.
I know what a crush feels like. I know what it’s like to be enamored with a boy and feel butterflies take flight in my stomach. But what I felt when my eyes locked with his was unprecedented.
Unfamiliar.
Shocking and exciting and everything I never knew I could feel from looking at a man.
And tonight when we attend the home game, I’m hoping my subconscious gets a reality check that I’m really playing that whole encounter up in my mind. One major league baseball player locks eyes with me for all of five seconds and suddenly I’m boy crazy. I have to be making this a bigger deal than it is.
The stadium is surprisingly full for a Thursday night game. Usually, weeknights draw a smaller crowd, but since they’re playing the Yankees, it seems more New York fans showed up tonight.
As I follow Conner and my grandpa down the stairs to the same seats belonging to our family for generations, I see that Lochlin already beat us here. Her blonde hair with purple tips is impossible to miss. Next week, her hair will be a different color.
“There you are! I know you guys never miss the first pitch, but I was getting scared there for a moment,” she teases as the crowd roars in excitement while the players take the field.
“Traffic was horrendous,” I reply, taking my seat next to her.
Lochlin has joined us for a quite a few games over the years, but part of me is glad she’s here tonight. I need someone else to help me sort through my moment with number twenty-three.
“Hey there, pretty girl,” Gramps greets her with a kiss on the cheek. My grandpa has always had a soft spot for my best friend, primarily since she’s been around almost every day since he gained custody of Conner and me when our parents died.
“Hey good lookin’,” she teases. “How’s our team doing, Gramps?”
“Well, they won six and lost two on the road, so we’re seven and two right now. Tonight’s game should be a good one, but I think we can pull off the win, especially if Calhoun is on his mark.”
I love it when he talks about the team as if he’s a part of it. In his mind, he is. Gramps will argue that a baseball team is only as good as its fans.
“Hopefully Calhoun has a better game than he did last time at home,” Conner adds, the mere mention of Jake’s name again spiking my blood pressure.
“He did pretty well while they were away, so maybe he’s dialed in his focus,” Gramps replies as the Yankees’ pitcher throws the first pitch.
The newscasters and sports analysts have been laser-focused on Jake Calhoun since the start of his rookie season. Rumors and stats are declaring he’s one of the best players to be drafted to the MLB in years. All eyes and ears are watching him, including mine.
I stare at the screen projecting the score, players' stats, and the batting order, noticing Calhoun will be up next. I feel nervous waiting for him to emerge from the dugout, knowing he’s just feet away from me.
“You ready to see your boy?” Lochlin leans over and whispers in my ear.
“Shut up,” I growl through my teeth, looking over my other shoulder to see if Gramps and Conner are listening in on our conversation.
“I told you that in confidence. If Gramps catches wind that I might have caused Jake’s slip up during his first game, I will never hear the end of it.”
“Speculation,” she declares. “You don’t know if that’s true, right? Isn’t that what we’re trying to figure out tonight?”
She’s right. I told her I need to confirm if that one instance was a fluke. She’s supposed to be my second set of eyes and ears as we watch the game for not only entertainment but also for stalking my new crush. God, I feel pathetic.
Eddie Salazar manages to get a double on his turn at the plate, while Jake was warming up off to the side of the field. He must have walked out from the dugout while I was talking to Lochlin.
Damn, he’s even more attractive in person than I remember. His uniform hugs him in all the right places, his pants showing off his tight ass and his shoulders strain against the fabric of his jersey. He’s muscular without being overly so, and I really like that his batting helmet allows me to see more of his eyes when he faces in our direction. Although his head is turned, his eyes hav
e yet to meet mine, a fact that is surprisingly disappointing, but understanding, given that he’s about to go up to bat.
Jake takes his position and waits for the pitch. His read on the ball is impressive, letting the first two balls fly past him without taking a swing. He connects on the third pitch but hits a foul ball along the third baseline.
But then the fourth pitch flies fast and hard over home plate and Jake takes his swing, the crack booming in response as he takes off for first base and secures second as Salazar slides into home.
“That a boy!” Gramps and Conner cheer simultaneously, making us all laugh out loud.
That rush of feelings comes over me again in a wave, watching him survey the field, waiting for his opportunity to run to third.
“Damn, okay… I think I get the hype,” Lochlin whispers to me while my eyes remain locked on him.
“Right? There’s something about him I just can’t put my finger on,” I confess while my eyes never leave him.
Lochlin growls seductively next to me. “Personally, that Rocky Perez is more my type, but I see Jake’s appeal. Hell, any man in baseball pants is a winner in my book.”
I laugh at my best friend while we take a sip of the beers she purchased before we arrive.
The next player up secures a hit, strong enough that Jake rounds third and sprints for home plate, securing his score in the nick of time, barely beating the catcher in an impressive risk.
“What a run!” Gramps shouts, his hands clapping loud and hard for number twenty-three.
Several snacks, a few beers, and seven innings later, the four of us are on the edge of our seats as the score is tied at the top of the ninth and Jake is up to bat again.
And much to my disappointment, no further eye contact has been made while we’ve been sitting here. I even timed my bathroom breaks so that I wouldn’t miss the opportunity for us to lock eyes again.
I’m trying not to show my disappointment and focus on the game, but I’m sure Lochlin can sense the change in my mood.
“The game’s not over yet, Dani,” she whispers in my ear with a nudge of my arm while Jake takes a strike on his first pitch.
“I know, but I guess it all was just in my head.” The surge of hope I had all week and at the beginning of the game sinks hard in my chest. I know I shouldn’t be as disappointed as I am, but I swear I felt something. Then again, a professional ballplayer probably doesn’t read into meeting the eyes of people in the stands like the fans do.
“Looks like Calhoun is getting restless,” Conner interrupts our conversation as we watch frustration come over Jake’s face.
“He just needs to be patient,” Gramps replies as Jake lets the next pitch go by, his reading accurate by not taking the swing.
The next pitch rings true for Jake though as he smacks the ball across the field and over the fence, securing yet another home run.
“Holy hell! This rookie is on fire!” Gramps is standing along with the rest of the crowd.
Jake’s hit secures the win for the Rays, the game ending soon after before the Yankees could score again.
As Jake emerges from the dugout, I let out a long sigh. You just don’t see men like that every day, especially one that can play baseball like he does.
“Ok, that’s it,” Lochlin turns to me and then starts to rummage through her purse. Conner and Gramps have already started heading up the stairs to exit the stadium.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, peering over her shoulder while she locates her ticket excitedly.
“I’m getting you a date with Jake Calhoun!”
“What? How? What are you talking about?” My heart is pounding in my chest, beyond terrified of what Lochlin is about to do. I know my best friend and she has no reservations.
She scribbles something on the back of her ticket with the pen she dug from her purse as well and then squeals as she runs down the stairs towards the dugout for the Rays.
“Lochlin! Come back here right now!”
I’m yelling at her but my feet are frozen in place, watching her eagerly bounce down the concrete and lean over the fence, her chest spilling out of her shirt and her shorts barely covering her ass perched in the air. Lochlin is gorgeous and isn’t afraid to flaunt it, a fact that the high-school-aged bat boy she’s speaking to has definitely noticed.
Her lips are moving, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the young man before she hands the ticket to him as the team has already started to make their way to the locker room.
He turns and looks up into the crowd, pointing in my direction as Lochlin nods. He nods back at her and then runs off into the tunnel before I can see where he went.
“What the hell did you do?” My hands are shaking as she makes her way back up to me, the grin on her face full of mischief.
“Oh, I just wrote your number down on the back of my ticket and asked the bat boy to give it to Jake.”
“WHAT?” I shout, causing the few people left around us to shift their attention on me. I automatically slink down back in my seat, my head falling into my hands as my long blonde locks fall around my face.
“Are you seriously mad at me?” Lochlin is standing in front of me, her hands on her hips while tapping the toe of one of her feet against the ground.
“Why did you do that?” I look up at her, exasperated and beyond embarrassed. “Now he’s just going to think I’m another girl after him for his fame or money.”
She shakes her head. “No, he won’t. I told the bat boy you were the girl he locked eyes with at the last home game. Now the ball is in his court, or glove, I guess.” She shrugs.
“And what if he doesn’t call? Or text? Then I just look like a desperate woman vying for the attention of a professional baseball player. Or worse, then it makes me look like a stalker!” I shake my head before continuing.
“Oh Jake! We made eye contact for five seconds, so that must mean you’re in love with me! Please call me!” I mock her while realizing how crazy this is.
“If that’s the case, then it’s his loss, Dani. You know you’re not that girl and you have a lot to offer. So if it’s meant to be, and he felt even an ounce of what you think you felt, then things will work out the way they’re supposed to.” She pulls my hand so I’m standing up next to her.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink at least so we can commiserate that your best friend is a better wingman than you’ll ever be,” she winks at me. “Or we will celebrate prematurely before a major league baseball player calls you later.” She pushes me up the stairs before we make our way out of the stadium.
We catch up to Gramps and Conner at the car where I explain that Lochlin and I are going to go out for a bit, so they head back home just the two of them.
Lochlin and I head to Sully’s, a local bar and restaurant, finding a booth in a dark corner where she buys me two very strong drinks to drown my embarrassment and disappointment in.
“Isn’t this where the Rays’ players come after their home wins?” She asks while surveying the room.
“That’s the rumor. Although if that’s true and Jake Calhoun walks through that door right now, I might pass out.”
“You really like him, don’t you?” Lochlin cocks her head at me while waiting for my answer. The ice in her glass clinks against the edge as she spins her drink around.
“I don’t even know him, Loch,” I state matter-of-a-factly. “And for all I know, that moment was all in my head. But I can’t keep my eyes off of him, even for a moment during that first game I saw him play in. He’s hot, like really hot, and I was drawn to him, the pull so strong it felt like gravity. I guess that feeling just has me rendered speechless. I’ve never felt that before.”
“I can’t speak from experience myself, but I get it. Human beings are wired to connect beyond the physical. I believe in fate. Maybe that encounter is the precursor of things to come?”
I nod. “Or, it just proves that it’s been way too long since I’ve had sex and my body is drawn to the f
irst red-blooded male that made my vagina twitch.”
She spits an ice cube across the table at me, bursting out in laughter as I join her.
Just moments later, a group of Rays’ players filter through the door, their faces hard to see from our position in the corner.
I feel myself perk up in my seat as I watch them stride in, oozing confidence and million dollar smiles. I recognize Eddie Salazar and Rocky Perez, just as Brandon Cash follows closely behind.
And then I see him.
Jake Calhoun.
Clean from a shower, sexy and brooding, his dirty blonde hair perfectly messy but obviously styled. But his eyes aren’t searching the room like the others. Nope. His eyes are locked down at his hands, staring at an orange and white ticket. He’s fiddling with the cardstock as he trails his teammates into the bar, staring down at the ticket like it might burst into flames at any second.
Lochlin slowly turns to me, a mile wide grin plastered all over her face.
“Looks like someone got his message,” she declares, tossing back the last few ice cubes of her drink in her mouth.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, realizing Jake’s contemplating that ticket with my number on it as I sit here, a few measly feet away from him.
Chapter 5
Jake
“Whatcha got there?”
Rocky comes up behind me while I’m seated at one of the high top tables, taking the first sip of my beer.
“Nothing,” I try to hide the ticket in time, but I’m unsuccessful as Rocky snatches it from my hand.
“A number? Man, this won’t be the first, nor the last,” he tosses it back to me, oblivious to what this number has done to my head in the last hour. “This must be part of the perks of scoring two runs tonight.” He states before walking off to get another drink.
High on our win and my stellar performance tonight, I gathered my bat and glove from the dugout and was walking to the locker room when our bat boy ran after me in the tunnel right after the game, delivering the ticket to me with the biggest smile on his face.