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[India]

Declan Wylde is such a hard ass.

He also has a nice ass, and that fine specimen holds my focus as he stalks away from me, kicking at the dirt like a boy who lost a little league game.

I almost feel sorry for him.

Back when Declan was in college, and Isaiah’s best friend, baseball was the center of their lives. Seemed like the only thing Declan would ever have eyes for was a nine-inch ball with red stitching on it.

Then one winter, he noticed me.

When I was a kid, I’d often try to draw attention to myself. I didn’t want to be an actress or a singer, but I craved the limelight. I’d be the loudest in the room, the flashiest at a party. A little Miss Showoff with outrageous outfits and wild hairstyles.

My mother thought it was a residual effect of having childhood cancer. I wanted to live large .

Dad thought I lived a little too big at times.

Once upon a time, that attention-seeking behavior resulted in a hot week with Declan Wylde, my long-term crush.

His piercing sapphire eyes fixated on me, the girl behind the antics, and I felt cherished, like a rare gem.

His arms were safety, while his body was all sin, and I wanted to be a bad, bad girl with him.

He never frightened me, though. I was afraid of myself at the time.

That weekend changed everything and years later, it shouldn’t matter; however, the heartbroken girl inside the grown woman I’ve become never forgot her first love.

Declan comes from humble beginnings. From a small, poor community in Arkansas, he landed in Colorado, where he made the university baseball team and met my older brother Isaiah.

They were thick as thieves from the first hit to catch situation, in which Isaiah hit a grounder toward first base and Declan scooped it up, tagged the base, and the ump called Isaiah out.

Isaiah still cries foul after all these years.

While Declan has an older brother, claiming him as his only family, he’d been adopted into our circle of four.

My mother doted on Declan. Isaiah loved him. Dad was indifferent.

When Declan signed with Seattle while he was still in college, I’d been ecstatic for him. I’d also been foolish to think a rookie player on the cusp of greatness would befriend his best friend’s younger sister when I moved to a city he was set to leave.

He was Declan Wylde. Wylde Thing . The Big League changed him. He hit homeruns and scored tons of women, or so Isaiah said.

The nickname originally came about because his once solid-auburn beard and hair in loose waves around his ears, curling underneath his ball cap, made him look like he was on fire when he ran the bases. For most of his playing career, he was such a blaze .

Now, he is no longer a flame as much as smoldering ash. And unfortunately for me, he still heats my insides.

He has also accepted my unspoken challenge not to mention our past. To act like we never crossed paths or shared bodies, discovering where to touch one another and how; what to kiss and suck; how to make me feel alive.

I shiver at the memories.

Like a frosted glass, the coldness of his recent attitude is too much to grasp, when I’m the one who put us in a deep freeze in the first place.

“India.” The sharp call of my name in my earpiece brings me back to the present.

Standing on the third base foul line in Music City Park, I clear my throat and listen to Chuck repeat his question.

For a few minutes, we trade words about the Terrors’ home series with the Arizona Ospreys, before shutting down the commentary and switching the broadcast over to the studio for post-game analysis.

This is my first season working for The Den, the exclusive sports network for the Tennessee Terrors. The newish streaming service hopes to acquire additional professional sports airtime in the Nashville area, and being a field reporter for The Den is a huge opportunity.

After a few years in Seattle, working with a variety of small colleges in the area, my dad finally had enough of what he considered the small time and offered me a job working for the baseball team he managed, the Vegas Victors.

As a former professional player, moving into the dugout brought a new level of pride to my father.

My jump from D2 collegiate level sports to professional team reporting was a huge leap and one that didn’t go unnoticed among my peers. Whispers of nepotism and Daddy’s girl followed me for almost a dozen years, despite my previous hard work.

The move from a reporter for a team to a field reporter for a streaming service was another skip, a more positive one, in a new direction, and one I’m happy to have gotten on my own.

As a field reporter, I’m on the sidelines before and after the games with our beloved home team and then in the dugout in a designated camera well that’s nothing more than a mid-height cement block square with metal fencing on the upper half to protect me and the cameraperson at my side during any given game.

Today’s July afternoon showdown was like any other summer day in Nashville, hot with a side of humidity, and extra heat on the field as well. A loss is a loss, but overall, the Tennessee Terrors are in a strong position for playoff contention.

Then again, anything can happen during a season. A team in April is not the same team in October, and as we reach mid-season, rumors of trades run rampant, which can change the dynamic of everything.

Of course, Coach Declan Wylde would say rumors are nothing more than dust in the wind. Far be it from him to comment or commit to anything more definitive about the team and their potential for a championship.

As I turn my gaze toward the empty dugout and the hollow opening that leads to the team’s tunnel stretching toward the locker room, my brows pinch with thoughts about Declan’s journey and our history.

Being with Declan, however brief, was not a mistake. Our time together had been a sexual awakening for me. And according to him, for him as well. I still question any truth to his declaration based on the rumors I’d heard, and the stories Isaiah has told me.

Updating my background knowledge on the professional life of Declan Wylde was part of my initiation with The Den.

How he’d gone from Seattle to the Chicago Anchors, then dropped out of the league around his mid-thirties.

Coached at the collegiate level for almost a decade before ending up in Tennessee as head coach for the Terrors.

But on a personal level, I’ve had a home-field advantage over most of Declan’s adult life.

My brother is still his best friend despite geographical distance.

And I’ve been on the sideline of that friendship for more than a decade with updates like that crawl at the bottom of a screen during a sportscast. The topics are brief and limited to character count. I’ve never gotten a full story.

As for my new job, where I’m physically on the sidelines near Declan, I’m here to prove something to myself. Prove I’m worthy of the position I’ve earned. My eyes are on a personal ball.

The future All-Women Baseball League, that is. The first professional female group since the All-American Girls League was formed during World War II. Those original foremothers were additionally made more famous through the 1992 movie, A League of Their Own , which was a huge inspiration for me.

I’ve grown up around baseball, and it was either reject a love of the game or embrace it.

Because girls aren’t allowed to play with the boys after age twelve, I switched to softball like most young ladies, playing the sport through college.

Still, I wrapped my arms around baseball, majoring in journalism and broadcasting with a concentration in sports.

Despite the male-dominated field, I once again sought to prove myself.

Attention seeker, remember?

According to my father, stepping away from the job I had with the Victors to take on this new-to-me role with the Terrors was like a homerun hit caught by the wind and forced over the foul line.

He was pissed. However, his attitude was the motivation I needed to remind myself I deserve this job. I earned it. And I’m here for me.

Not some old flame with a hot ass and a sour attitude. Nothing is going to get in the way of a personal grand slam for me: a chance to report for that future women’s league.

Declan Wylde is just going to have to tighten his shoelaces because India Baker isn’t playing games.

I am here to win.

For me.