The stadium smells like hot dogs and spilled beer, two of my least favorite things. Seems fitting, since they go with baseball.

Lola walks in front of me, sashaying her hips as we pass a hottie making our way down the stairs of Barridge Stadium, the local minor league baseball team’s home. When Lo called shortly after I talked to Barrett and offered the tickets, I couldn’t refuse. Free tickets to Huxley’s favorite thing were a no brainer, especially when we’ve only been able to come to the stadium a handful of times.

I decided not to tell Huxley about the season tickets yet. I figure I’ll save that gift for another day and spread the cheer. No sense in using all the goodness up in one day.

“This is so cool,” Huxley gasps. “Someday I’m going to play in a stadium even bigger than this when I go to the Majors.”

“If you do, I want season tickets,” Lola says, handing him his drink. “And clubhouse passes. Can you make that happen?”

“Sure,” he says, not paying any attention. His little face is taking in the seats, lighting, and fellow baseball fans.

Lola starts down the steps towards our seats and I nudge Hux along. We grab our seats right above the dugout and get situated.

“This is so awesome, Lola!” Hux says, his eyes wide. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“You’re welcome, little guy,” she says, reaching over and messing with his hair. “You need a haircut.”

“No, I don’t,” he groans. “Don’t start. Mom keeps trying to get it cut, but I want it to be long like Joe Stalsbach.” We lose him again to the wonders of the world of baseball.

“How did you get these tickets?” I ask, popping a piece of candy in my mouth.

“You mean, who did I have to come upon to get these seats?”

“Lo!” I exclaim, bumping her in the shoulder. “Little pitchers have big ears.”

She tosses a handful of popcorn at me. “Isaac. He got called in to work tonight. It’s just a charity game with the Sirens, so he couldn’t sell them for anything. So, he offered them to me. And I offered them to you.”

I smile at my best friend. She could be doing anything tonight, but she chose to go out of her way to make Huxley happy and that means more to me than anything in the world.

“Thanks for doing this. He’ll talk about it for a month.”

“Anything for the little guy. I mean, he’s my back-up plan. If I don’t figure out a way to take care of me, he’s giving me all-access to the dugout. I’m looking at tonight as an insurance policy.”

“Oh my God,” I laugh, watching everyone take their seats around us.

“So, speaking of which ...”

“Speaking of what? God?”

“Barrett.”

“Shh,” I say, rolling my eyes. “For real, Lo. Realize we’re in a packed stadium. People eavesdrop.”

“And no one would know what I’m talking about if you didn’t react so obviously.”

I pop another piece of candy and glare at her. She just gives me her blank stare, the one she uses when she waits for me to stop being shocked at her behavior and continue the conversation.

“I’m not talking about ... that ... here,” I warn.

“You didn’t bother to spring that little gem of information, the one where you had lunch with—”

“Lola!”

“With a friend,” she modifies, “until I picked you up. What did you expect? You do know me, right?”

I feel a little elbow digging into my side and turn to see my sweet boy looking at me. His brown eyes, like his father’s, peer up at me with a level of excitement that makes me excited too.

He points to the field where the players have taken their positions unbeknownst to me. They’re tossing balls back and forth, some of them jogging to the stands to sign jerseys and hats for fans.

“Can I go get an autograph?” Hux asks. He bounces in his seat, one hand stuck in his baseball glove. “Please, Mom.”

“I don’t see anyone over here,” I say, scanning the fence. “If someone comes over, we’ll go see if we can get their attention, okay?”

“Yes!” he yells, fist pumping, making Lola and I laugh.

The speakers overhead rumble and the announcer’s voice blazes through the stadium. “Welcome, baseball fans young and old, to tonight’s charity game to benefit Casey’s Children’s Hospital!”

The crowd goes wild as some of their favorite players wave from the field and dugouts. They take their places as the announcer continues. “We’d like to give an especially warm welcome to Savannah’s own center fielder for the major league Tennessee Arrows, Lincoln Landry!”

The crowd jumps to their feet as I sink back into my chair. Hux is waving his mitt in the air as I watch Lincoln appear from the dugout beneath us and wave to the crowd.

I lean forward, trying to get a good eyeful of him. He’s taller, thinner, but more muscled than Barrett. That’s all I can really tell from the back.

Lola watches my reaction. “Do you think Barrett’s here?”

I let my shoulders rise and fall.

“Your hometown loves you, Lincoln! Thank you so much for coming home to support our hospital tonight!” the announcer booms.

Lincoln turns to face the booth, situated above our seats, and I realize how beautiful he is. A younger version of Barrett, Lincoln has a softer jaw line and more unruly hair. When he smiles and flashes the crowd a thumbs-up, Lola nearly dies.

“I take it back. That’s the one I want,” she breathes, her jaw hanging open. “My God. Those men have genetics that need reproduced and I volunteer for the job.”

I ignore her, a peculiar feeling bubbling in my stomach. My attention is drawn like a magnet to the dugout. I’m not sure why, but I wait with bated breath.

And then I see the reason.

“Ladies and gentleman, let’s now give a round of applause for Mayor Landry, who’ll be tossing out the first pitch!”

I gasp.

Lola smashes me from the side, her gasp taking away all air from the immediate vicinity.

Huxley sits down, unimpressed.

Barrett gets situated on the mound as the fangirls in the crowd go crazy and I have half a notion to cover Huxley’s ears at some of the lewd suggestions being spewed towards the dugout.

He waves to the fans before tossing the pitch. It bounces once before it makes it to the plate. The crowd cheers wildly and I watch as his lean body jogs halfway to the plate and he embraces the catcher in a half-hug.

“That guy can’t throw a baseball,” Huxley says. “They should’ve at least gotten someone that could make it to the plate.”

“That’s the mayor,” Lola tells him because I’m still without words, my eyes glued to him as he makes his way to the clubhouse.

“He’s not a baseball player, that’s for sure,” Hux scoffs.

Barrett is met at the steps by his brother. Side-by-side, they’re breathtaking. I can’t begin to imagine how beautiful their family pictures must be.

Lincoln slaps him on the shoulder and says something in his ear, making Barrett laugh and I’m jealous I can’t hear it. Not the words, but the sound of his voice. I heard it just today but I already miss it ... especially knowing I’ll probably never hear it again.

Almost like he knows I’m watching, he looks up. His gaze falls right on me like I’m the only one sitting in the stands.

A look of confusion flickers across his features before he breaks out into a wide smile.