Page 247 of Out of Left Field

“Of course. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

No one said a word to that. No one even blinked. Kristin simply rolled onto the social media campaign as if Charley hadn’t spoken.

Charley’s high-profile divorce was making as many headlines in the gossip circles as Annalise and Seth’s romance had the year before. Her venture capitalist ex was not only rich, but rumors of his cheating and drug use ran rampant.

“What about the script for the first five episodes?” Kristin asked Marley.

“We made some changes after the final edits came in, but otherwise they’re in the can and ready for the voiceover.” Marley was suffering through her writer’s block by writing our scripts. She was good at it, but it was easy to see it wasn’t what she wanted to be doing.

Getting to know the Tangerines, and now being part of this group, made me realize my aversion to female friendships was long past due. I did, in fact, enjoy female friendships. I’d just been doing it all wrong.

Which was why when Kristin asked what else there was to discuss I blurted out an invitation. “Who wants to have a dinner party at my condo this weekend?”

“Oh hell yes,” Charley answered first, followed by everyone else.

I started jotting notes in my phone as everyone batted around future story ideas. There were some good family angles, tying in aspects of Kristin’s life. We wanted to dive deeper into the community as well as the team’s connection to both men’s and women’s sports in America.

Then a text message popped up from Seth.

Seth: Can I send something with you this weekend? It’s for Annalise but I don’t want her to get it until just before the game.

Me: Sure. As long as it’s not drugs or something alive.

I learned that lesson the hard way. But it was sweet how hard he worked to always make sure Annalise had some sort of surprise when they were apart.

I wasn’t sure if Everett took notes or asked for advice, because he’d done some incredibly sweet things as well. I found my favorite cookies on my desk one day, a note tucked into my purse the last time we were out of town, and flowers waiting at the condo.

Seth: It’s just a handwritten note. If I give it to her before she leaves she’s gonna open it. I want her to read it right before the game.

Me: Done.

Seth: You da best, bestie!

I rolled my eyes, flicking the message closed when my attention fell on my last text from Everett. There was no reason to open it and read it again. Certainly not in a meeting, but I did it anyway.

Everett: Sometimes I just stop and think about the shape of your lips. But that reminds me that you kiss like a siren. And then that reminds me of that cottage on the beach…best night of my life. For now.

Ah, the cottage. It was most definitely too small to live in, but I liked thinking about it. About that night and all the magic that came out of it. Everett’s house wasn’t on the beach, but it was a short walk to one. And it was a nice house. With it only partially renovated there was lots of potential.

It struck me right then how much I wanted that future. How much I daydreamed about spending my life with Everett. Every date, no matter how mundane, was exhilarating. Every kiss was spine-tingling.

“Willa? Did you hear Marley’s question?” Kristin’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I sat up straighter and put my phone down. “Sorry, I was thinking. Can you repeat the question?”

I barely heard it the second time because Charley was snickering at me.

I was useless for the rest of the day so I went home early. Which, to be honest, was a massive mistake because all I did was pace the condo. I debated going to the stadium to watch the game but that felt…wrong. So I turned on the game and set out to make the most complicated dinner I could put together with the food I had available.

I had a glass of wine.

None of it helped this anxious, constant need to see Everett. I kept remembering the way it felt to have him moving over me, the hungry way he looked at me like I was the answer to everything.

I squeezed my legs together and screamed with my mouth closed. How was it possible to be this turned on?

The camera showed the line of pitchers sitting along the bullpen watching the game. I sat in front of the television like a child with my nose inches from the screen, drinking in Everett smiling at his teammates, cracking some joke I couldn’t hear. He looked good in his Mantas hoodie and ballcap. Relaxed. He poured sunflower seeds into his mouth and sat back.

The camera cut back to the batter. With a swing and a miss they went into extra innings. I went back to pacing when Everett still didn’t take the mound. The tenth inning became the eleventh. Everett pulled off his hoodie and grabbed his glove.