“Nice hat,” I say as I tap the rim. It’s the same hat she wears for every game, but my brain can’t come up with anything else to say right now. She makes me fumble through my thoughts just to say the simplest things. I don’t know if it’s her smile, her eyes or her sheer presence that gets me tongue-tied, but I don’t want this feeling to stop. What I do want to stop is the twitching my hand is doing. I have a hard enough time around her as it is that I don’t need her distracted by this ailment. I pull the ball out of my back pocket and squeeze it, trying to control the shaking.
“I think you might like my jersey,” she says with a hint of humor in her voice. She turns around slowly, showing me my name and number on her back. A few of the adults near us snicker, making me wish I could flip them off and tell them to get the fuck lost so I can bask in the fact that this girl, that I really like, is going to sit in the stands with my name on her back. If I didn’t have my cup in, everyone would see the fucking woody I’m sprouting right now because this is hot... not to mention that it’s also a sign that she’s actually into me.
“Wow,” I say, stepping closer. My hands rest on the railing that she’s pressed against and I let my right hand touch her thigh. I have to lean down to do this, but it’s worth it. Even with all the cell phones out, it doesn’t stop me from touching her. “You really know how to impress a guy.”
“Davenport, you’re up.” I look over my shoulder and nod. “I gotta go,” I tell her as I fight every muscle in my body from leaning forward to kiss her. We are going to have our first kiss soon, I just don’t know when. I do know that I’m going crazy with the need to feel her lips pressed against mine. “I have this for you.” I hand her the ball and her finger tips brush mine, sending a jolt to my system.
Daisy reads the words and looks up, her green eyes piercing mine. “Yes,” she says loud enough for me to hear, giving me the sweetest smile in the process.
“Fuck me,” I say as I turn away and adjust myself. I don’t know where the BoRe Blogger is now, but I hope he isn’t counting how many times I’m adjusting myself because I have a feeling I’ll be fixing my cup all night.
Branch Singleton, our designated hitter, is finishing up when I get there. I use the extra minutes to put my batting gloves on and take a couple of practice swings.
“Hold the bat, Davenport.” Cal Diamond is walking toward me and all I can think is that I’m not starting because of what I just did with Daisy, even though it’s nothing different than what any of the other guys have done. “Bainbridge had something come up and I need you to take his place at the Rotary dinner Thursday night.”
Thursday is Daisy’s birthday.
“I have plans,” I blurt out.
Diamond stands firm with his hands on his hips, glaring at me. He glares at everyone. He’s the manager, it’s allowed. “Yes, you do... at the Rotary dinner. You were requested after Bainbridge so get your tux out, get it pressed and show up for dinner with a speech.”
I look over at Daisy; she’s too far away for me truly see what she’s doing, but I feel her eyes on me. “Can I bring a date?”
“As long as she’s not a hooker.” He slaps me on the arm and laughs as he walks toward the dugout.
Well shit, this is great. I had plans to do something with Daisy and can only hope she’ll agree to go with me. If not, I’ll have to meet her after, if she’d even feel like going out later. My good mood is now soured by a baseball commitment. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s how things go around here. Even our off days are baseball days. And organizations plan events around our calendar so we can attend. They use our names and the fact that we’re appearing as a way to sell tickets. We could essentially send one of the guys down the totem pole of the forty-man roster, but people aren’t paying to meet him. They pay to meet players like me.