Clover ended up staying an extra hour at the hotel to cover for the guy who worked graveyards. His son was sick and had to go to an all-night urgent care facility. It wasn’t like Clover could argue that apologizing to Dustin was more important than a child’s health. Turned out he had a bad case of strep and needed a couple shots and some major antibiotics. The poor little guy.

Maddie stayed with her, sitting on the couch in the lobby and watching the game unfold. The Redrocks weren’t doing well tonight. They were down by five.

“I like Broc. He’s got a swagger to his walk that’s kind of sexy,” admitted Maddie.

Clover nodded. “Zack is pitching well tonight, but the team isn’t giving him much support.” She’d heard one of the announcers say something like that a few nights ago after Travis Dadds dropped a high fly ball.

Just then, Oakland’s left fielder hit a grounder past the third baseman and brought in another run. Six to zero.

Jeff finally arrived for his shift, looking haggard and worn. His shirt was untucked, wrinkled, and buttoned incorrectly. Clover politely pointed it out to him and then offered to stick around for fifteen more minutes so he could use the iron in the laundry room. He told her thanks and made his way down the hall.

Maddie got up and shut off the television. “That’s it, game over.”

Clover watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock on the wall. The numbers were in green, but nothing about this situation said go go go. Pulling her hair out of the too-tight ponytail, she scrubbed at her scalp.

Maddie tipped her head to the side. “How are you going to find him if the game’s over?” At the beginning of her shift, Clover had filled her in on the whole new level of understanding about her subconscious mind and how she was making an honest effort to overcome her antisocial behavior. Maddie nodded along, not contradicting Jane’s statement about her keeping people at arm’s length, and also not judging her for being that way. Maddie was literally the world’s best best friend.

“I’m not sure.” Clover chewed her lip. “Don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I read this blog by a guy who used to be in the majors, and he said that when the team is at home, most of the guys eat in the clubhouse after the game and then go right home.”

“You’re reading baseball blogs now?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. I’m impressed that you’ve done your homework.”

“Yeah, well.” Clover cringed. Her research about baseball had made her more interested in Dustin. She wondered what his daily life was like, his routine.

She shouldn’t have read the blog post, because it also detailed what a player ate to stay in shape, and now she wondered stupid things like if Dustin liked his eggs over easy or scrambled and if he had gone to organic produce or ate the regular stuff. Each time a question was answered about the sport, she had five more about Dustin.

“Well, in my research, I found out that a lot of the players live in the new development by the stadium.”

Maddie nodded. “It’s secluded out there, not a lot of shopping to bring random people through the neighborhood, and the houses are nice.”

“Right—so I was thinking that he might live in that neighborhood.” Clover chewed her lip. “Is it weird if I drive around and look for his car?”

Maddie nodded. “Yes. It is.”

Clover groaned and dropped her face in her hands.

Maddie rubbed her back. “Sweetie, you’re cute enough to pull off weird. I say go for it.”

Clover’s muffled laugh was interrupted by Jeff’s return. Maddie and Clover gathered their things and quickly left. “I’m not waiting up for you, but I want a full report,” Maddie called as she unlocked her car.

“I shouldn’t be long.”

“Unless it goes well.” Maddie pumped her eyebrows.

Clover’s face heated. For once she was thankful for the dim lighting in the parking lot. “It won’t.”

“Uh-huh.” Maddie waved goodbye and ducked into her car.

Clover did the same. She stared at the steering wheel, gathering her courage and trying to find the right words to say when she found Dustin. If she found Dustin.

Maddie honked as she pulled away.

“Okay.” Clover started the car. She made her way onto I-15. Traffic was heavy going the other direction because of the game, but her lane was clear. St. George wasn’t that big of a city. They had a lot of suburbs that wrapped around bluffs and beautiful red rock statues carved by wind and time. There were still places a cell signal couldn’t be found. St. George had a four-year college and shopping districts and the Redrocks. It was a good place to live. A happy place with loads of families and singles.

The closer she got to the stadium, the more jittery she became. To calm herself, she practiced what she would say to Dustin. “I’m sorry I didn’t play catch with the lettuce.” No, that wasn’t the real issue.

“Dustin,” she began again, “I think we got off to a rocky start.”

Duh. Figured that one all out on your own, did ya?

“Think nice thoughts,” she admonished herself. “He’ll be too surprised to see me to be rude.”

She took the stadium exit and hung a left in the roundabout. In a few minutes, she was meandering down the street, admiring the houses. The beautiful French-inspired homes rimmed a golf course. Golf courses abounded in St. George, so she wasn’t surprised to see one in this posh neighborhood.

What did surprise her was that there weren’t any cars in the driveways. All the houses were shut up tight with the garage doors down and the shutters drawn. Several had lights on, and she guessed those belonged to Redrocks players or fans getting home from the game. She looped the area twice. Parked at the top of the street, she contemplated turning her lights off and waiting for a while. With a shake of her head, she pressed the gas. She might be cute enough to pull off weird, but she wasn’t sure she could make stalker look good.

She sat at the ornamental gate into the neighborhood, waiting for an opening in traffic. Did being willing to apologize count in the world of self-improvement? She’d made a huge effort to make amends tonight. It wasn’t her fault Dustin was a no-show. She slumped into the steering wheel. That wasn’t how life worked. Unless she actually spoke to Dustin, none of this counted. She scrubbed her face and checked the clock on the dashboard. 12:23.

Bright lights filled the cab as a flashy car turned the corner. She blinked to save her corneas from certain death. When she opened her eyes, she saw the back end of a red Camaro flash by the window.

Desperate to have the night of semi-stalking pay off, Clover slammed on the horn to get his attention and flipped around in her seat to watch his car.

Dustin tapped on the brakes and kept going—completely ignoring her.

Grrrr. Slamming the car in reverse, she managed a five-point turn in two points, scraping her tire against the curb in the process, and took off after the Camaro.

The garage door cranked up on a two-story red brick home with black shutters and a cobblestone driveway. Dustin slowed down to wait for the door to go all the way up before pulling into the three-car garage.

Feeling panicked that she was losing her chance—again!—Clover threw her car in park on the curb, yanked out the keys, and dashed across the driveway as the door started to go down. With each inch, it lowered her adrenaline shot up. In an act of total craziness, she threw herself under the waist-high door, triggering the sensor and sending it back up.

Triumph filled her and she threw her arms in the air. “Yes,” she laughed.

“What in the …” Dustin had spread his legs apart and hunched down, ready to attack.

Clover’s smile faded right along with the sense of urgency. “H-hey.” She brushed her hands down the front of her shirt. She’d been so caught up in catching Dustin that she didn’t stop to think things through all the way. “I guess I could have used the doorbell.”

Dustin continued to stare at her like he wasn’t sure what to do. His hair was still wet from the after-game shower, and she knew if she got closer that he’d smell like zingy soap. The awkwardness lengthened like a long fly ball to right field.

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for not catching that ball the other night. I didn’t know it was a thing. And I didn’t mean to dis baseball. I like baseball. Love it, really. And you’re good at what you do, and I can see that it’s more than a bunch of guys playing a game.” She swiped at the moisture beading at her hairline.

Dustin dropped his defensive stance, but he was still looking at her like she was a stray cat in his garage or something, and he wasn’t sure what to do with her.

“So I just dropped by to say that I was sorry and I’ll be nicer when you come to The Pantry, and the door is open now, so I know the way out.” She spun, ready to make a run for the not-embarrassing interior of her car.

“Wait.” Dustin’s voice was soft, but she had no trouble hearing him.

“O-kay.” She spun back around and bounced her hands off her sides like a five-year-old waiting in line.

Dustin pointed at the door into the house. “Do you want to stay?” He gave her a friendly smile while his eyes twinkled with mischief.

The air in the garage began to tornado. That was the only explanation as to why Clover couldn’t drag oxygen into her lungs when Dustin looked at her like that. His jaw had a fine layer of stubble over it, the kind that would scratch her cheek if he kissed her. And his hair, oh my gosh, his hair was all silky and clean and begging to have her fingers comb through it.

“In there?” she squeaked, pointing to the door. He couldn’t possibly want to be alone with her in his house. She could count on one hand the number of guys she’d allowed herself to be alone with since her mom left. And she could count on her pinkie fingers the number of guys she’d enjoyed being alone with.

Her mouth dried out just thinking of being alone with Dustin. Not because she was afraid of what he would do, but because she was afraid of what she would do. Dustin had a way of creating oh-so-strong feelings inside of her. If the good feelings were as strong as the bad ones, she was in a heap of trouble with this guy.