and, although she wouldn’t admit it with Candace around, horny. When she didn’t wake up nauseous, she woke up horny. And the smoldering arousal didn’t appear to be limited just to the morning, either. The last week or so she’d found herself thinking about sex in the middle of the day. Another change she definitely didn’t welcome. And watching Reilly all night didn’t help. She had to agree with Candace—dusty, sweaty, adrenaline-charged jocks were definitely hot.
“Mindless lust,” she muttered. “Like I really need that now.”
“Anytime is a good time for that,” Bren whispered.
Liz colored. “Just tell me no one else heard that.”
“I think you’re safe. There’s too much screaming going on.”
“Thankfully.” Liz gripped Bren’s arm as the next batter settled in at the plate. “Two outs. Reilly on third. Pray for a hit.”
Beside her, Candace screamed, “Strike her out, Parker! Come on, baby. Blow one by her.”
“Candace, honey,” Liz warned. “You might not want to yell that on this side of the field.”
“You’ll protect me.”
Liz might want to strangle her, but Candace was right. She loved her. They were friends.
“All the same,” Liz said, sliding her free arm around Candace’s waist. “Let’s not tempt fate.”
Parker stared down the batter while Reilly crouched at third, ready to spring as soon as the ball was struck. Liz focused on Reilly, fascinated by her intensity. It was just a game, but Reilly threw herself into it as if it were the most important thing in her life. Liz imagined Reilly was that way about everything, and for just an instant, she allowed herself to envision what it would be like to be the focus of that kind of attention. A restless stirring inside immediately warned her away from such dangerous thoughts.
The ball rocketed from Parker’s hand. The bat flashed golden in the slanting rays of the evening sun. The batter connected, the ball shot towards second, and Reilly surged toward home plate. Parker dove and intercepted the ball in the infield, then rolled to her knees and fired it toward home.
“Slide, Reilly, slide,” a dozen voices screamed.
Reilly hit the dirt just as the catcher snagged the ball and swept her glove across the plate.
Silence fell over the field, then the umpire waved her arms and shouted, “Safe!”
Cheers erupted. The Angels had won.
Liz clapped, caught up in the jubilation as Reilly was swamped by her teammates. Then, Reilly broke free and ran toward her, a huge grin on her face.
“I think you brought me luck,” Reilly panted.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Liz replied. “You were great.”
“Thanks.”
Liz glanced down, then exclaimed, “Reilly, your leg is bleeding.”
“Huh? Oh—that’s just a little turf burn from sliding. No big deal.”
“Is that just you being tough, or is it really okay?”
Reilly smiled. “It’ll be fine when it’s cleaned up.”
Bren appeared next to Liz. “Great job, Reilly. I thought for sure you’d get tagged at the plate. Nice slide.”
Liz raised her eyebrows. “Are you a closet softball player, Bren?”
“I played in high school,” Bren admitted.
“You think you know your friends…” Liz teased.
“Well, how much do we ever really know anyone?” Bren smiled at Reilly. “Anyhow, great game.”
Parker jogged up and clapped Reilly on the shoulder. “Nice running, Danvers.”
“Nice pitching. Good game. Especially considering the score.”
“Well, we’ll get a rematch in the playoffs.”
“Looking forward to it,” Reilly said.
“Me too,” Parker said before looking to Liz and the others. “So—are you all up for beer and a burger? A bunch of us are heading over to the Elm Street Pub.”
Liz hesitated. Reilly was probably going to the pub, and she wasn’t certain that spending more time with her was wise. Even though Reilly hadn’t intimated she was interested in her in any way, really, Liz didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. On
“Mindless lust,” she muttered. “Like I really need that now.”
“Anytime is a good time for that,” Bren whispered.
Liz colored. “Just tell me no one else heard that.”
“I think you’re safe. There’s too much screaming going on.”
“Thankfully.” Liz gripped Bren’s arm as the next batter settled in at the plate. “Two outs. Reilly on third. Pray for a hit.”
Beside her, Candace screamed, “Strike her out, Parker! Come on, baby. Blow one by her.”
“Candace, honey,” Liz warned. “You might not want to yell that on this side of the field.”
“You’ll protect me.”
Liz might want to strangle her, but Candace was right. She loved her. They were friends.
“All the same,” Liz said, sliding her free arm around Candace’s waist. “Let’s not tempt fate.”
Parker stared down the batter while Reilly crouched at third, ready to spring as soon as the ball was struck. Liz focused on Reilly, fascinated by her intensity. It was just a game, but Reilly threw herself into it as if it were the most important thing in her life. Liz imagined Reilly was that way about everything, and for just an instant, she allowed herself to envision what it would be like to be the focus of that kind of attention. A restless stirring inside immediately warned her away from such dangerous thoughts.
The ball rocketed from Parker’s hand. The bat flashed golden in the slanting rays of the evening sun. The batter connected, the ball shot towards second, and Reilly surged toward home plate. Parker dove and intercepted the ball in the infield, then rolled to her knees and fired it toward home.
“Slide, Reilly, slide,” a dozen voices screamed.
Reilly hit the dirt just as the catcher snagged the ball and swept her glove across the plate.
Silence fell over the field, then the umpire waved her arms and shouted, “Safe!”
Cheers erupted. The Angels had won.
Liz clapped, caught up in the jubilation as Reilly was swamped by her teammates. Then, Reilly broke free and ran toward her, a huge grin on her face.
“I think you brought me luck,” Reilly panted.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Liz replied. “You were great.”
“Thanks.”
Liz glanced down, then exclaimed, “Reilly, your leg is bleeding.”
“Huh? Oh—that’s just a little turf burn from sliding. No big deal.”
“Is that just you being tough, or is it really okay?”
Reilly smiled. “It’ll be fine when it’s cleaned up.”
Bren appeared next to Liz. “Great job, Reilly. I thought for sure you’d get tagged at the plate. Nice slide.”
Liz raised her eyebrows. “Are you a closet softball player, Bren?”
“I played in high school,” Bren admitted.
“You think you know your friends…” Liz teased.
“Well, how much do we ever really know anyone?” Bren smiled at Reilly. “Anyhow, great game.”
Parker jogged up and clapped Reilly on the shoulder. “Nice running, Danvers.”
“Nice pitching. Good game. Especially considering the score.”
“Well, we’ll get a rematch in the playoffs.”
“Looking forward to it,” Reilly said.
“Me too,” Parker said before looking to Liz and the others. “So—are you all up for beer and a burger? A bunch of us are heading over to the Elm Street Pub.”
Liz hesitated. Reilly was probably going to the pub, and she wasn’t certain that spending more time with her was wise. Even though Reilly hadn’t intimated she was interested in her in any way, really, Liz didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. On
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