Page 26 of The Best I Never Had

“I wasn’t ready,” Harrison says, knocking his bat on the plate in frustration. “Won’t happen again.”

Johnny tosses me the ball. “Ready now? Just want to make sure.”

Harrison glowers, and I let the ball fly again, savoring the shifting of my muscles, the way the ball rolls from my fingers. This time, the bat connects. The line drive threads between second and third base, and Harrison easily makes it onto first before my team snatches it up.

I’m scowling when I turn back to home plate and find Thea waiting. She looks adorable with her blond curls flaring out from beneath the helmet. Thea lifts the bat, positioning it awkwardly in her hands. Her body’s hugging the plate, and she’s taken such an open stance that she’s nearly facing me.

“Over a year with this girl, and you never taught her how to hold a bat?” Johnny calls out.

Thea narrows her eyes. “Owen never complained about how I held a bat before.”

Johnny howls, throwing his mitt on the ground so he can clap. I laugh, too, rubbing my hand over my eyes. This woman just can’t help herself.

I should throw the ball, let her learn the hard way. She’s not on my team, and it’s every man for himself in the Ellises—even between couples—but I want her to have fun more than I want to win.

As I jog over from the mound, Gabriel calls out from his spot as shortstop, “You can’t help her! She’s the enemy. Where’s the loyalty to your team?”

I don’t look away from Thea as I call out, “How would that be an earned victory? It’s like playing a baby.”

“I can think of a few other ways to use this bat,” Thea grumbles, twisting it in her hands. There’s a fire behind her dark smile that tells me she’s thinking about going full enforcer and using the bat on me instead.

“You want to beat me with that bat, or do you want to learn how to use it so you have a chance of actually beating me?” I ask, and she mumbles a reluctant “fine.”

I come to stand behind her, grabbing her by the waist and shifting her farther from the plate, helping her line her feet up a bit more than shoulder-width apart. Thea lifts the bat, and I place my left hand over hers, using my right to adjust her grip until her hands are stacked. My arms encircle her, and I can’t resist breathing in her spicy scent.

“When you swing,” I whisper, and a shiver goes through Thea’s body, “make sure to follow through. Then run like hell to the base.”

“Assuming I hit the ball,” Thea says, twisting her body to look at me. I shift back to keep her from brushing against me.

“Have a little faith in yourself, Thea,” I say, and run back to the mound.

“Can we play baseball now?” Gabriel whines.

I mouth to Thea, You ready? She nods back, and I give her a soft toss. The bat connects, sending a fly ball far into the outfield.

“Holy shit!” Thea screams.

I holler back, “Run!”

My outfielder fumbles the catch, and Thea makes it to second base. As soon as she stops running, she turns to me, holding her arms out wide as if to say, Did you see that? It feels like a sparkler’s been lit behind my sternum, and I can’t hold back my answering smile.

“Impressive,” I call out.

“Beginner’s luck, I’m sure,” she says with a little shrug.

I turn back to home plate, where Harrison is celebrating his run with Tommy, Johnny’s identical twin brother, who’s up to bat. Johnny’s ribbing goes to a new level with Tommy, distracting him enough for me to get the first two pitches past him. He successfully hits the third, the ball flying straight from his bat into Gabriel’s glove.

Thea starts toward third base the second Tommy’s bat connects, and Gabriel runs after her. She’s a couple of feet from the base when his glove connects with her back, sending her forward and sliding against the clay. She shouts loud enough for me to hear her a half field away, and I go sprinting to her.

“What was that, Gabriel?” I yell as I help Thea roll over. There’s blood running from her elbow.

“I’m so sorry, Thea,” Gabriel says. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

She gives him a weak smile, wincing when I shift her arm to get a better look. “It’s fine. All’s fair in love and baseball, right?”

Addy and my mother come running out of the dugout, dropping next to Thea. “Oh my god, Tia, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, her eyes darting around before she says louder, “I’m fine, everyone. Get back to the game.”