Page 105 of The Score We Never Settled

He wants words and actions.

He needs to know his feelings and emotions are validated.

Briggs Kerrigan deserves to know if he still has a wife.

28

LAYLA

Ten years ago…

“He’s got a nice butt.”

“Fallon,” Zoe drawls exasperatedly, bumping into her with her own body, which in turn, knocks into mine. “Stoppp.”

“What?” our friend inquires with faux shock. “He does. Tucker Hale is a nice piece of?—”

“Fallon King,” Maebelle warns from behind us, something Fallon hasn’t or truly doesn’t care about. “You’d better watch your lips, girl.”

My best friend, in all her rebellious fashion, turns her body on the metal bleachers and looks up at Magnolia Ridge’s number one top gossip. “Mrs. Mitchell, I’m appalled that you’d think I’d say somethin’ inappropriate in front of children.”

I don’t look at Maebelle, but I can imagine the expression good enough.

She’s looking at Fallon with zero humor because she knows, just as well as I, that Fallon was going to point out how attractive Tucker is in a crude way.

“So, your comment earlier about Cruz Weston swingin’ like the B-word is appropriate for the masses?”

I sigh because Fallon knows this isn’t going to go anywhere but back and forth.

However, Fallon’s energy level and stubborn nature only fuel her to continue.

“That’s a female dog, Mrs. Mitchell?—”

“I wasn’t bornyesterday, Miss King. And you best make sure you look at who’s around you before you allow your lewd commentary to continue.”

“So, you then?”

Fallon’s body lunges forward again, implying that Zoe has bumped her for over the dozenth time tonight.

“You best listen to your friends,” Maebelle suggests. “Because I wouldhateto make a phone call to your mother.”

Yeah, that’s not going to do anything.

Fallon’s mom isfullyaware that her daughter is spirited and mouthy. In fact, I think she loves that about her daughter because it’s rare that she’ll stop Fallon to think and focus on what she’s saying. But I think that’s when Fallon starts getting overwhelmed about things she can’t control.

“Duly noted,” Fallon finally concedes, turning back around to face the baseball field.

The Magnolia Ridge Copperheads are playing tonight against our rivals, the Riverbend Blue Sox, and the boys are head-to-head and run after run, making it a close game, and everyone is on edge.

My eyes connect with Briggs as he steps onto the on-deck circle with his bat in hand, waiting for Tucker to get on base. He’s relaxed, methodically swinging his bat vertically without much thought behind it because he’s dead-centered on winning tonight.

“Speaking of ass,” Fallon says under her breath. “Your boyfriend is—” My elbow knocks into ribs, earning anompfhright afterward because Maebelle Mitchell is still behind us with her earsalwaysopen.

“I swear,” I mumble underneath the cheering crowd. “If you don’t shut up, Fallon…”

She chuckles, completely enamored with herself and her sense of humor, when Briggs turns on his heels and looks toward the supportive onslaught of town folk clapping and shouting in support.

Then, his focus deadbolts on me, and I stop breathing.