Dustin stepped into the dugout and took a deep, satisfying breath, drawing in joy from the scent of freshly mowed grass and dirt and leather and a clean uniform. Hopefully it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

He pivoted. The stadium lights brought out the deepest green in each blade of grass, and the night was full of possibilities. The start of a game was a chance to win. It didn’t matter that the Redrocks had the second-worst season in the division. What mattered was this game. The first pitch. A clean slate. Baseball was all about the stats, but when Dustin stepped onto the field, that all took a seat in the nosebleeds.

Taking a ball out of the bucket, he rubbed it between his palms as if he were trying to get the scent of the ball into his skin. He stepped onto the field and pointed to Joe at first base before he threw the ball. Joe caught it and tossed it to the second baseman, Devin Capiro. They threw it back and forth while Dustin jogged his way to short. With a careful glance, he checked the seats above the bullpen.

She’s here.

Wearing a generic ball cap, her hair falling down around her shoulders, Clover took in the ball field with wide, excited eyes. Her hands moved as she talked to the woman sitting next to her. Dustin thought it might be the same woman from the club the other week, but he couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t spent much time looking at Clover’s friend that night—Clover had had his full attention.

For all the brightness and beauty the stadium lights provided, they paled in comparison to how beautiful Clover was when she smiled. He hadn’t seen her honest smile since the day she stopped him on the street and gave him the stupid essentials bag. That smile had grabbed hold of his heart, playing it like a puppeteer and rendering him speechless.

“Dustin!” shouted Joe.

Dustin barely had time to raise his glove and stop the ball from hitting him in the face. He easily threw to Ricky at third, his eyes going back to Clover. She sat on the edge of the seat, her hands clasped and her eyes drinking in everything from the mow lines on the field to the images on the JumboTron. He didn’t think there was anything more attractive in the world than a woman excited to watch a game.

He dropped his head, shielding his face with his hat as he smiled. He shouldn’t be this happy to have Clover in his seats, but a sense of fun tickled the night. A couple kids sitting a few rows in front of Clover waved to him. Dustin looked down at the ball in his hand and then lifted his arm to throw. The kids screamed and waved their arms, but he wasn’t aiming for them. Clover was looking his direction, so he tossed the ball to her. Just as it left his hand, she turned to her friend, and to his horror, the ball hit her in the shoulder and bounced away. The kids scrambled for it.

Her mouth dropped open, and her hand covered her upper arm. She might have a bruise. He’d been excited when he threw that ball and wanted to make sure it got to her. Some guy with a beer in his hand and a Redrocks shirt came up with the ball and held it above his head. Dork. The game hadn’t even started yet.

Dustin mouthed Sorry to Clover. She glared. The umpires came out on the field, and the team lined up for the National Anthem.

“Nice,” goaded Brayden. “That’ll make the blooper real.”

Dustin punched him in the arm. “Shut it.”

Brayden shook his head and pulled his hat off and over his heart. Thankfully, Brayden didn’t notice that it was Clover in the stands. Or, if he did, he didn’t comment. Good thing, too, because Dustin had no desire to explain how she ended up in his seats. He’d given the tickets to the manager of The Pantry. He’d hoped Clover would get them, but he didn’t dare specify who he wanted to see at the game.

He wasn’t sure why he wanted Clover there. Motivation was the most likely and easiest answer. Dustin wanted Clover to see him play, wanted to show her what he could do with a bat and a low curveball.

Not much happened in the first inning. In the bottom of the second, Devin hit a fly ball into the dugout. Dustin ended up with it in his mitt. He turned to the fans above the dugout and held up the ball.

Dustin made eye contact with Clover. The stands and the fans and even the jumbotron faded away, and he had this feeling that he’d love to play catch with Clover. That they’d be able to read one another like a catcher and a pitcher should. He grinned and sent the ball flying her way.

One of the kids with a mitt jumped up and snagged it out of the air. He celebrated, showing off to his friend and his dad. Clover clapped eagerly for him, yet she hadn’t lifted her hands to even try for the ball.

Dustin groused and sat back down. Getting a ball to a woman in the stands wasn’t supposed to be this hard. After two attempts, one that was obvious he was throwing directly to her, he couldn’t make another attempt without the team realizing he had his eye on her.

The game continued with the Redrocks trading runs with Oakland. In the bottom of the seventh, a fly ball bounced and landed in Brayden’s mitt. He turned to Dustin with laughter in his eyes. “This is how it’s done, bro.” He dragged Dustin up to the top step, pointed to Clover, waved off the guys crowding around her, and underhanded the ball.

Clover caught it, barely, and jumped up and down, holding it over her head. She was laughing with her friend and smiling and doing all the things Dustin had pictured her doing when she caught his ball. They hastened to sit back down, and Dustin used his foot to shove Brayden off the bench. The guys cracked up, pointing at him. Brayden chuckled from the ground. “If I’d known you’d be this ticked, I would have done that three innings ago.”

“You suck.”

Brayden laughed harder.

Dustin took a seat on the bench and pulled his hat down low. She should have caught his ball.