Page 33 of Stealing Bases (Tennessee Terrors #7)
thirty-two
Skylar
After I left Chase’s house, I went home quickly to shower, then I left again to go grocery shopping. Once home, and after putting away the groceries, I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning my apartment and doing laundry while the Terrors game played in the background.
The pin was for the ball field.
After parking in the players’ lot that he showed me once, I sent him a message that I was at the players’ entrance.
From there, Chase led me through the tunnel, through winding hallways, and into the team dugout.
There was an echo of distant carts rolling on concrete and large metal doors shuttering somewhere in the park.
Chase leans against the dugout railing with a bat slung over his shoulder and a glove tucked under his arm.
He holds a baseball out to me and smiles.
“Come on, Sky…” his hand bounces.
I step onto the field from the stairs and pause, taking in the sight of the empty stadium. Right now, I feel dwarfed by everything around me.
“You better not be planning to throw any fastballs at me.”
“Only if you promise to swing for the fences. But honestly, I’m no pitcher; I have just one speed. But I will go easy on ya, but then again, I can’t guarantee anything.” He hands me the bat, points me in the direction of home plate, then heads toward the pitcher’s mound.
“You know I don’t play baseball, right?”
“I know. Listen, we’ve got the whole place to ourselves for a bit. No one, aside from me, will witness any of this. I told the maintenance guys to take a break for a bit. I wanted it to just be us.”
I smile, then get into a stance that I’ve seen him get into. I lean over, grab some dirt, and rub it into my hands. He laughs.
“Are you ready?” he calls.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I bend my knees and shake my ass.
Chase winds his arm back and then swings it forward, only to slow it down at the last second, and gently tosses the ball over the mound. She fumbles and laughs.
“Wow. I am terrible at this.”
“But you’re absolutely adorable. That ass shake you did. If I were the pitcher, I would have definitely gotten distracted.”
Chase moves halfway between the mound and home plate.
“That’s cheating.” I point out.
“It is not. I’m just trying to give you a leg up.”
I lift the bat, take my stance, and shake my ass again. Chase lobs a ball toward me, and I swing as it is launched across the plate. A crack echoes, and the ball is sent over Chase’s head, then bounces into the grass past second base. Chase turns with it, then back to me.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Run! Run the bases!”
I drop the bat and start running, all the while screaming, “I hit it! I actually hit it!”
“Run like you mean it!” Chase yells after me, and he jogs to get the ball.
I barrel toward first, laughing uncontrollably, then I round second, gasping for breath.
I pass third and charge toward home base.
Chase jogs toward home plate, pretending to be the catcher.
Just as I’m about to hit the plate, he crouches, just to the side of it, waiting, and is exaggeratedly serious.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I yell at him just as he lunges. He tackles me, both of us collapsing into a cloud of dust and laughter. We lie together there, tangled in one another, breathless with hearts pounding.
“Is this how you treat all the base runners?”
“Only the ones who steal home, and my heart.”
I roll my eyes at his cheesy line, but I can’t help the smile plastered on my face.
The stadium is silent around us, and we sit up together.
“This is quite the view that we have here.” I lean back on my hands and look out at the empty space before us.
“It’s one of my favorites. Just picture all the seats full and cheering.”
“It must be pretty intense,” I say.
“I would get stage fright. That’s too many people, and all strangers, having some sort of dependence on you. Must be a lot of pressure.”
“It can be. But I wouldn’t do anything other than this.”