“Candy. Hence, my point.”
“Yeah, Candy. Man, she had a nice ass.”
“Barrett, please,” he sighs. “Listen to me. I’m sure she’s not like the rest of them. They never are, until they are.”
I shake my head emphatically. “Not this one. She’s a single mom that’s been through a nasty divorce. She doesn’t want any publicity, has no agenda. She just, I don’t know, makes me feel like I can breathe. Like I can be me.”
“So,” he chuckles, “you can be you and she still likes you? I stand corrected. You’ve found an angel. Keep her around.”
“Such a comedian,” I grumble, walking around my desk and taking my seat. “I’m being serious. I think I could really like her.”
That’s not entirely true. The taste of her mouth is seared into mine, the scent of her vanilla-laden perfume scorched into my memory, and I know she’s already singed her name into my blood. I’ve never had this . . . need . . . to get to know a girl before. It’s this prickly feeling that lets me know I am, without being, fucked.
“Please be careful. Be smart,” Graham says, pulling me out of my reverie. “While I’m happy to see you happy over someone without cup size factoring into the top five reasons, this probably isn’t the time to mess with this.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, reordering a stack of papers Graham scattered. “I get this feeling from her that she doesn’t want anything serious with me.”
“I doubt that,” he snorts.
“I’m serious. I’m going to try to see her again, but she’s . . . respectable,” I laugh, realizing it’s the first time I’ve ever been able to use that word about a girl in a conversation with my brother.
Graham blows out a breath, obviously not hearing what he’d hoped for. By the time he looks at me again, his mouth forms a thin line. “I’ll get the plan together to bail you out of whatever mess this becomes.”
“Thanks. Now let’s get out of here before we’re late.”
Alison
THE STADIUM SMELLS LIKE HOT dogs and spilled beer, two of my least favorite things. Seems fitting, since they go with baseball.
Lola walks in front of me, sashaying her hips as we pass a hottie making our way down the stairs of Barridge Stadium, the local minor league baseball team’s home. When Lo called shortly after I talked to Barrett and offered the tickets, I couldn’t refuse. Free tickets to Huxley’s favorite thing were a no brainer, especially when we’ve only been able to come to the stadium a handful of times.
&nbs
p; I decided not to tell Huxley about the season tickets yet. I figure I’ll save that gift for another day and spread the cheer. No sense in using all the goodness up in one day.
“This is so cool,” Huxley gasps. “Someday I’m going to play in a stadium even bigger than this when I go to the Majors.”
“If you do, I want season tickets,” Lola says, handing him his drink. “And clubhouse passes. Can you make that happen?”
“Sure,” he says, not paying any attention. His little face is taking in the seats, lighting, and fellow baseball fans.
Lola starts down the steps towards our seats and I nudge Hux along. We grab our seats right above the dugout and get situated.
“This is so awesome, Lola!” Hux says, his eyes wide. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome, little guy,” she says, reaching over and messing with his hair. “You need a haircut.”
“No, I don’t,” he groans. “Don’t start. Mom keeps trying to get it cut, but I want it to be long like Joe Stalsbach.” We lose him again to the wonders of the world of baseball.
“How did you get these tickets?” I ask, popping a piece of candy in my mouth.
“You mean, who did I have to come upon to get these seats?”
“Lo!” I exclaim, bumping her in the shoulder. “Little pitchers have big ears.”
She tosses a handful of popcorn at me. “Isaac. He got called in to work tonight. It’s just a charity game with the Sirens, so he couldn’t sell them for anything. So, he offered them to me. And I offered them to you.”
I smile at my best friend. She could be doing anything tonight, but she chose to go out of her way to make Huxley happy and that means more to me than anything in the world.