“Yeah, but that happens for a lot of people, Helen. They don’t go moving in with each other.”
“No, I’ve never been able to be myself around a guy and still love myself afterward.”
“Hmm. I get it, I guess.”
“Seth is genuinely a good guy, Charlotte. Why don’t you give him a chance?”
“I know nothing about him.”
“Try to get to know him.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I will.”
But the person I really wanted to get to know was nowhere to be found.
* * *
WHEN WE GOT to the game, we were ushered to our seats and soon discovered that Seth wasn’t playing at all; they had another utility player in his position. “Why isn’t he playing?”
“I don’t know. It’s a bummer, though. I wanted to cheer him on,” Roddy grumbled.
We watched almost the whole game in silence. I think we all were wondering if Seth’s major-league stint was going to be short-lived.
At the bottom of the ninth, the Padres were down by two with bases loaded and two outs. Then they brought Seth in to pinch-hit for the pitcher.
“Oh my god, the pressure,” I said.
Roddy came back quickly with, “He can handle it. Come on, Seth!” he shouted.
“Come on, Seth!” I screamed. There was no way he heard me, but from my view it looked like he straightened his shoulders infinitesimally the moment I yelled. The first pitch was a strike. He stepped out of the batter’s box, taking a breath, taking his time. He did a practice swing and then tapped the bat on his shoes and dug into the batter’s box again for the next pitch. It was a high ball, outside. It looked like he was almost going to swing.
“Be patient, number twelve!” Roddy yelled. “That highball outside is his weakness,” he said quietly to us.
The next pitch hung in the air, right at his shoulders. As if in slow motion, I watched Seth bend his knees, step forward, and swing right into the pitch with beautiful grace and ease. The stadium went crazy as we watched the ball sail all the way out of the park, past the center field wall. It was the farthest section, a generous four hundred feet to the wall, and Seth smacked the ball over it like it was nothing. A grand slam. He coasted around the bases, and when he tapped his toe on home plate, he kissed his hand and waved toward me. We made eye contact for a second. I smiled with such joy that I felt like an idiot.
“Wow,” Roddy said. “They say it’s harder to hit a home run at night here because of the marine layer.”
“What are you talking about?” Helen said.
“To hit it out at the farthest part of the field, because the air is thicker. He really got ahold of that one.”
Helen laughed. “It has to be because she’s here.” She patted me on the head.
“What, are you serious?”
“Maybe,” Roddy said.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Helen leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Sometimes they just need to believe in it. It’s a head trick.”
She wasn’t actually superstitious; she wasn’t actually buying this crap. She was doing what a good baseball girlfriend would do: letting them believe. Letting them have faith. Wasn’t that what I did for crazy Adam that one night?
15. Worship
When the game was over, we walked across the street to the lobby bar at the Omni hotel.
“He’ll be over when he’s done,” Helen said when she spotted me looking around.
“Oh, I don’t care,” I said.
“Yeah you do.”
Roddy was off talking to one of the coaches while Helen and I sat in round bucket chairs, watching swarms of fans gather around.
After my second drink, I yawned and thought I would give him another ten minutes and then head home. I didn’t have any messages on my phone, so I figured he was busy with all the hype from hitting the walk-off grand slam. A moment later, I noticed Helen beside me look up and smile. Before I had time to turn around, I felt a big, warm hand on my shoulder.
“Charlotte?”
With the touch of his hand, something suddenly clicked for me, and I decided I would just live within the moment. I jumped up, turned, and leapt into his arms. “You were amazing!”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “It’s ’cause you were here.”
I kissed him, right there in front of a hundred people gathered in the lobby lounge as they looked on. He smelled clean and his hair was damp as I raked my hands through it. He must have showered in the locker room.
I pulled away just an inch to see his grin. “I’m glad I came,” I said.
He hugged me again and kissed my ear. “Me too.”
Helen stood casually and said, “Congrats, Seth,” before faking an exaggerated yawn. “Gosh, Roddy and I have to get home.” Seth and I pulled apart. “Charlotte, you ready or . . . um . . . maybe Seth can give you a ride to our house to get your car? You have plans, Seth?”
He tensed up. “I’ll take her . . . if she wants me to.”
Helen waved her hand around vaguely. “You two can figure it out.”
Roddy came over and smacked Seth on the back. “You killed that ball, man.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Helen kissed me on the cheek and then kissed Seth on the cheek and whispered something in his ear. We said our good-byes and then they were gone and it was just Seth and me. And I wanted him. I couldn’t deny it. He was standing there, humble and unassuming, even though there were at least twenty-five women discreetly moving closer to him in the lounge, hoping he’d shoot them a look or leave my side to seek them out. He acted as though he didn’t even notice them. “Thanks again for coming today. You hungry?”
“Yes,” I said, my eyes fixed on his mouth.
“Me too,” he whispered. “I got a room here tonight.”
I nodded. “Before you knew I was coming?”
“No. Just now, when I saw you here. Just after I came in.” He pulled a key card from his back pocket.
I laughed. Maybe he was assuming . . . “Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Wishful thinking.” He moved closer to me and took my hand in his. “I actually don’t care anymore how this looks. And yeah, I got the room when I saw you because I want to be alone with you, okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded, and then let him pull me toward the elevator bays.
He held my hand all the way up to the twenty-second floor. There was palpable sexual tension in the elevator. When the doors opened, he led me into the hall. “Come on, Charlotte, I want you and I’m tired of waiting.”
“We’ve only been on two dates, technically.”
“I don’t care,” he said with his back to me.
I yanked my hand out of his just before we reached the door to his room. “What if I do?”
He turned to me, squinting, his expression inscrutable. He braced both of my forearms and swung me around so that my back was against the door. Our lips were only inches apart as he held me pinned in place. I felt scared for a second. I looked up and down the hallway but no one was there. He pressed his lips to mine forcefully. We kissed hard, fast, passionately, and I was done for. My body was aching for him. I needed his strong hands on me. I drove my fingers into his hair while he gripped the back of my neck with one hand and my bottom with the other.
He pried his mouth from mine. Breathing hard, he said, “Are you saying you don’t want to go in there with me? Because I’ll walk you back down and drive you wherever you want or call you a cab.”
I stepped aside. All reservations were gone. “Forget what I said. Open the door.”
There was a flurry of hands and lips and movement toward the bed. Neither one of us made any motion for a light switch. The Coronado Bridge and San Diego Bay were on display through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the room with a magical glow. He reached behind me and lifted me to straddle him as he backed me toward the bed. I pulled my mouth away. “God, it’s beautiful out there,” I said, panting.
“It’s beautiful in here.” My shirt went flying across the room as he kicked off his shoes. He set me down on my feet with the backs of my legs against the bed. His deft hands were unbuttoning my jeans with ease, and a moment later I was standing in just my bra and panties. I undid his belt and tugged at his pants and boxers, pulling them down as I dropped to my knees.