So what do you know about her, them, whatever?”
“Very little, actually,” I say with a shrug. “Avery is the pitcher and she’s the taller of the two. She has a 67mph fast ball, a drop curveball and a sneaky change. Kirby talks more, she’s our catcher so she takes charge, she’s a freakin’ wall back there and she’s got a cannon on her, she bats like 400...”
“Laney!” he interrupts me. “What?”
“Seriously, woman, I need the important stats, like boyfriends? Same-sex oriented? Reputation? Views on anal?” He actually said it with a straight face, not possible, and ewww.
“Oh my God, Sawyer, how am I possibly friends with you?”
“Cause I’m adorable and you love me.”
He’s right, he is adorable and I love him already. He’s a good one; he’d have a friend’s back. He’s got mine, I know it.
“Okay, I’ll get you an intro, but if the word ‘anal’ leaves your mouth, I will ball check you myself—hard. You got it?”
“Got it! All other words are acceptable, though, right?” He smirks.
I point my finger in his chest. “I mean it, mister, do not embarrass me! I barely know these girls and I have to play ball with them. Don’t you dare disrespect them!”
“Ah, Laney, I’m just playing. I would never...now go hook me up woman!”
It turns out Avery is in the red tonight. I talk with her for a few minutes, thanking her for coming.
“I’m really happy to be here, Laney. I’m looking forward to the season and your bat.” She knuckle bumps me. “Maybe we can hang out sometime, get to know each other.”
“That’d be great. I’ll give you my number.” I hope my face doesn’t give away how pathetically happy I am at the idea of a new friend. “So, where’s Kirby?” I glance around the room, not spotting her twin.
“Good question,” she says, looking around, “not sure where could she be. There’s not that many of us here.”
“Um, let’s ask my friend Sawyer, he knows the layout better than me. Sawyer!” I shout. Oh yeah, he heads right over, not even attempting a blasé approach, looking more like an eager beaver trying not to trip. He’s precious.
“Sawyer Beckett, my good friend, this is Avery Andrews, our pitcher. She seems to have lost her twin, Kirby, could you help her find her? You know the building better than me.”
“Of course, I’d be happy to. Nice to meet you, Avery.”
I almost chuckle as I watch her reaction to him; her eyes are about to pop out of her head...he is a lot to take in at once. The blush that creeps up her neck and cheeks is sweet, though, and I make a polite departure. There ya go, Sawyer, make me proud. I wink at him as I walk away.
When I hear music start, I smile; I’d know that intro anywhere. I turn to the stage and the single light illuminates him. He’s sitting at the piano, half looking back at me, and he winks. “This one is for the birthday girl,” he says. He plays “This Year’s Love” by David Gray, his voice perhaps even more beautiful than the original.
It’s the most mesmerizing thing I’ve ever seen or heard and when he finishes and stands, cheers go up all around but I remain frozen. I have tunnel vision straight to his eyes and can barely comply when he crooks his finger for me to join him.
My legs are wobbly as I make my way to him, limbs heavy. It seems to take forever to get to him, as though walking through sand. He mercifully meets me halfway.
“Happy Birthday, gorgeous girl,” he whispers in my ear, tucking a piece of hair behind it.
“Thank you. I thought you weren’t here,” I answer breathlessly, shaking, unable to mentally process what the serenade did to me.
“You knew better than that.” His lips are now touching my ear. “Didn’t you? You think you don’t know me and you shouldn’t feel this, but you do feel it. Don’t you, Laney?” One hand moves to the small of my back and ignites my skin through the thin fabric of my dress.
“Maybe,” I barely whisper. I’m terrified of the way he makes me feel; my pull to him is animalistic.
I feel his laugh against my skin as he moves his other hand over my heart.
“No maybe to it. You feel that, Laney? Your heart beats that fast for me, for us.”
I say nothing. I can’t. He moves his arms around my waist to hold me up, thank God. He starts to walk backwards, pulling me with him to the center of the dance floor and as is if on cue, the DJ starts the music, “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias. Dane so gets the right song for the right moment thing, once again he’s nailed it.