Clover kept one eye on the clock and one eye on the field. Dustin had ground out and wasn’t doing much better on the field. He’d missed a dive ball, face-planting in the dirt, and took an extra second to pop up from where he lay. His jaw was tight and his nostrils flared as he sucked in air. He was hurt but walked as if he wasn’t. Maybe he’d had the air knocked out of him.

Jane pried Clover’s hand off the armrest. “Relax.”

Clover shook out her fingers and laughed. The crowd noise sounded fake in her ears—maniacal, even. She clamped her lips shut, cutting off the sound as quickly as it had burst out. She shook her hands again in an effort to get all this crazy bubbling energy out. What she wouldn’t give for a chance to run her nerves out by running the bases.

Jane eyed her warily. “You take this game pretty seriously.”

“Yep.” Clover began pushing her cuticles back, focusing on something small to block all the big feelings building inside of her. Baseball was this force inside of her that pushed her heart to the limits and seduced her into yelling at umpires and holding her breath before a pitch.

“I take it the apology went well.”

Clover thought of the way Dustin’s hands had brushed her arms, and she shivered. This reaction was different from what baseball did to her. Her reaction to him was warm and syrupy and involved butterflies. Although both Dustin and baseball had a way of making her behave in ways she wouldn’t have before.

“Yep.” She’d thought he might kiss her last night. And she thought she might let him. And then he hadn’t. And she had driven home on a cloud. “You’ll be happy to know we left as friends.”

Maddie hadn’t been too happy about their newfound friendship when Clover updated her the next morning over Lucky Charms. She’d thrown her arms over her head and said, “Why didn’t you kiss him?”

At the time, it seemed perfectly reasonable to drive away. Now, watching Dustin step forward in a low crouch between second and third base, wearing a uniform that made him look oh so delectable, she wondered the same thing as Maddie. Why hadn’t she kissed him good night?

The batter took his stance. He had a loose hold on the bat and wobbled it behind his head. Clover leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. She was dressed in a floor-length black maxi skirt and a white tee. A black blazer waited in the car. She’d throw that on before getting to the hotel. Wearing her work clothes to the game meant she could soak up the last drop of baseball before she had to start her shift. She had three minutes—tops.

The batter popped one up. Dustin waved off those around him, put his mitt between the ball and his face, and made the catch.

Clover released the breath she’d been holding. As Dustin jogged in, he looked her direction and touched the brim of his hat. This might be the last chance she had to communicate with him before she had to leave, so she pointed to her phone and gave him a small wave goodbye. He held up a finger, telling her to wait, and then disappeared into the dugout.

The big guy in front of her turned around to see who Dustin was talking too. A glob of mustard fell out the end of his Redrocks dog and landed on his bright red Redrocks shirt. He didn’t notice. “Who are you?” he barked.

Clover lifted her shoulders. His loud mouth had drawn more attention her direction than Dustin’s little exchange. Her face was quickly turning the color of his shirt. “Nobody.”

He turned around with a grunt.

Clover fanned her suddenly warm face. She glanced at the JumboTron to make sure her embarrassment wasn’t caught on screen. There was a couple dancing, wearing silly hats and shirts that said “35 years and counting.” Clover envied them. What a way to celebrate an anniversary, dancing like no one was watching and loving for the whole world to see. She wanted that kind of love, the kind she could count on forever.

Dustin appeared on the top step of the dugout, only his head and shoulders visible from where she sat. He pointed at her with his left hand and held a baseball in his right. She stood up, her hands outstretched, ready to put the skills she’d learned to practice.

He grinned and tossed the ball. Her heart thrummed as she tracked the white leather with such concentration she could count the laces. She caught it, laughing as she did so. A few people clapped for her.

She smiled at Jane. “See? Friends now.”

Jane patted her knee. “I think the whole stadium can see that.” She pointed to the JumboTron. Clover slowly turned, afraid of having a stadium full of people see her mooning over Dustin Colt’s ball. What she saw surprised her. She saw a woman who looked put-together in her long black skirt and white tee with her hair draped over one shoulder. She might even say that she looked … pretty, which was a surprise, because she’d never thought of herself as pretty before.

She held the ball in the air and waved before quickly sitting down. Her whole face was on fire from the attention, but she wasn’t embarrassed about what they’d seen, because all traces of the malnourished, homeless child she’d been only a few short years ago were gone. Relief flooded her system, making her arms feel weightless. Jane had once told her that she could be anything she wanted to be, and for Clover, that was like telling a hippopotamus it could be a ballerina. Really, all she’d ever wanted to be was normal and average. From what she could see on the screen, she fit right in with the people around her, and that was amazing.

The camera switched to someone else. Clover leaned over and drew in deep breaths. She’d been told her whole life to be invisible, which made her feel invisible. Well, she hadn’t been invisible today, and it felt good. Dustin had seen her—he’d picked her out of the crowd. And a whole stadium of people had seen her and no one looked away, embarrassed by her dirty clothing or pleading eyes. No one had frowned with sympathy. But more importantly, Clover felt no shame. Instead, she’d felt pride in being herself.

She gripped the ball tighter, feeling the laces under her fingers. Baseball. Baseball was magic and romance and a gift she didn’t know she wanted.

And Dustin? She began to turn the ball over and over in her hands. If the whole stadium was empty, she would stay because Dustin was on the field. She liked watching him play more than watching the game itself.

The revelation was almost as scary as being on the big screen.

“What’s that?” Jane grabbed her wrist to hold the ball still.

Clover glanced down at the ball and saw a blue pen. Turning it slowly, she read out loud: “Text me when you get off work.” Dustin’s phone number was written inside the laces. Clover gasped.

Jane laughed. “Friends, huh? Yeah, right.” She put her arm around Clover, who was so shocked she hadn’t been able to close her mouth.

“Well?” Jane asked. “Are you going to text him?”

Clover pulled the ball to her chest and held it there with both hands. “I have to.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “Have to?”

“Yeah.” Clover stood, gathering her purse from under the seat. “When someone throws you a ball—you catch it.” She said goodbye to a confused and bemused Jane before hurrying up the stairs toward the concessions stands and gift shops filled to the brim with Redrocks gear. She’d have to come early to the next game and buy herself a shirt or hat. A hat would be great for keeping the sun off her face. Once through the shopping area, she negotiated another set of stairs to the large, slowly turning to sticky tar parking lot. Her car was hotter than the inside of a bread oven, but the engine groaned to life as if it had been sitting in a frozen tundra.

She made it to the hotel with thirty seconds to spare before her shift started.

“Hey, how was the game?” asked Maddie. She held a dust rag and a can of Pledge. They were supposed to dust the lobby daily.

“It was awesome!” In her rush to get to the computer and sign in, Clover set her purse on the edge of the counter and it tipped over, the ball spilling onto the floor on the opposite side of the desk along with the blush-pink lipstick she’d bought that morning to wear to the game.

Maddie picked them both up for her.

Clover bit her lip and set all her attention on the screen. She’d planned on telling Maddie about the phone number ball, but she was going to lead into it since Maddie was already emotionally invested in Clover and Dustin.

“There’s something on here.” Maddie gasped and then gave an under-the-breath squeal that was totally appropriate for the lobby of a midscale hotel. She reached across the counter and grabbed Clover’s arm, giving her an excited shake. “Are you kidding me?”

Clover pressed her hands to her chest and grinned. She still hadn’t wrapped her head around the idea that Dustin had effectively picked her up at a baseball game he was playing in! This was uncharted territory. Like the dark side of the moon uncharted. “What do I do?” She hugged herself.

Maddie rolled her sweet brown eyes like she couldn’t believe she was about to ask this question. “Do you like him?”

Clover was getting closer and closer to having a panic attack. While being on the JumboTron was fun and had given her a new way to see herself, she wondered if she’d be able to handle that kind of microscope on a daily basis. Did Dustin? All she had to do was glance at the big-screen television, where the eighth inning played out, to answer her own question. He was a professional athlete—he’d chosen that course and knew what he was getting himself into.

Then there was the way they met. His money and overconfidence needed to be taken into consideration when deciding if she liked him. “Most days he drives me insane.”

“So you don’t want to see him again?” asked Maddie, her adorable heart-shaped face scrunching up.

Clover tugged at her hair. He’d taught her to play catch … at one in the morning … in his backyard.

Maybe even more important than the fact that he was willing to give up sleep for her was the way he’d introduced her to his friends—like she was one of them. She’d been a fringe person her entire life. That didn’t mean that’s who she was inside. She got why people had kept her out of their circles—a dirty face and unwashed clothes didn’t exactly lay a welcome mat to her life. Under the direction of Pastor Paul and Jane, she’d changed those things, valued them. Maybe that’s why Dustin’s soapy clean smell woke up the butterflies in her stomach. “I want to see him again.”

“Then text him.” Maddie shoved the ball at Clover.

Clover pushed it back with all the strength of her insecurities. “And say what?”

“Hi, this is Clover. How was the game?”

Clover groaned. “They’re down by three in the bottom of the eighth.”

“Ouch.” Maddie cringed. “Maybe don’t mention the game.”

“Right!” Clover threw her arms in the air as if the fact that she couldn’t talk baseball was proof enough of her dilemma.

“Just be … cool.”

Her hopes crashed as low as the Redrocks’ winning percentage. “I am the least cool person I know. I’m the least cool person you know.”

“That is a problem.” Maddie leaned against the desk, deep in thought.

Clover scowled. “Why are we friends, again?”

Maddie tipped her head. “Because I’m good with your crazy, and you’re good with my weird eating habits.”

Clover snorted. “Right, like Celiac puts you on the same level of weird as the girl raised by a gypsy.”

“You make that sound so exotic.” Maddie threw her hair over her shoulder. “I’m trying to decide if you want me to talk you into texting him or talk you out of it.”

“Both,” Clover ventured.

“Let’s flip a coin.” She patted her hips as if checking her pockets—not that her skirt had any pockets, but it was a cute gesture. Everything about Maddie was cute. Arg! Why did her friend have to be so effortlessly fun and adorable? It only made Clover feel more like a hippopotamus in the dating pool.

Clover turned in time to take in Dustin’s last at bat. He struck out swinging at an outside pitch. He was inconsistent with the outside balls. Inside pitches, he could read like a billboard. She groaned. “How is it possible for a man to drive me crazy and keep me wanting more?”

“Chemistry.”

“We are not chemical.” Although the way he’d looked at her last night, with his fingers brushing her skin, that had some definite sparks going.

“How does he smell?” asked Maddie as she emptied the contents of her purse on the counter, apparently still looking for a coin.

“Through his nose,” quipped Clover.

“No.” Maddie laughed. “Does he smell good?”

“Like soap and something … sport manly.” She breathed out a sigh, thinking about being close enough to Dustin to know that.

Maddie grinned, incredibly pleased Clover’s description. “He’s drawing you in with his sport manly pheromones. That is totally chemistry. And you can’t resist.”

“I can too.”

“But you don’t want to.”

Clover bit her tongue to keep from telling the truth. She didn’t want to fight the draw she felt for Dustin—it was unlike anything she’d felt before, and it made her do crazy things like run into his garage in the middle of the night. Not that she was going to do that again. That was borderline crazy-fan mania and definitely outside of the average girl’s rules of etiquette.

The game ended with the Redrocks slumping into the dugout and the fans trudging up the stairs. Her heart dropped two floors in disappointment. She’d wanted them to win this one.

Maddie broke through her baseball trance. “Look, if your pheromones have the same effect on him, then it doesn’t matter what you text—he’ll be happy to get an emoji.”

Clover considered Maddie’s words of wisdom. She made some sense. Clover wouldn’t care if Dustin asked what the weather was; she’d bounce off the walls to discuss the wind. “Have I ever told you what a good friend you are?”

Maddie laughed. She set a quarter on the desk, heads up. “I don’t think we need that anymore.”

Clover laughed. “Fine. I’ll text him after work.” From the blog post she’d read, she’d learned that Dustin would have a full buffet dinner with the team after the game, and the option to get in a workout and a rubdown. She wondered how long he planned to stay, and then decided she’d send the text and find out.