22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Charlotte

There's nothing like giving yourself a pep talk while navigating traffic, but here I am reminding myself that this date I orchestrated that goes against everything I said I wouldn't do is just a date. Nothing more, nothing less, except my heart pounds like I'm in a dark alley alone and something just snuck out of the shadows. I'm terrified of the feelings I have whenever Andrew pops into my mind.

The rational side of my brain says this is not a big deal. Andrew is a good guy as far as I can tell, and spending a little more time with him in his element might even be the best way to figure out how I actually feel about him. Maybe even help me settle into a real relationship with him.

Meanwhile, crazy Charlotte is already ticking off the reasons why this is insane and will only lead me to heartache. In short, I can't believe I agreed to go to a baseball game with him, but here I am. A date. Not a full commitment. Just a date. Just seeing how things go.

I pull into the side lot by the stadium and hand the attendant the ticket Andrew had delivered to the school at lunch time.

"Just pull up to one of those first rows and take any space available." The attendant points toward the rows behind employee parking, right up by the entrance.

I choose a space and pull in, then check myself in the mirror. My wild eyes can use some coaching, but otherwise, I'm as ready as I can ever be. Through the gate a short line forms at the main door but it moves quickly. A bright and sunny brunette woman smiles at me and accepts my ticket. A quick scan later, and I have a special pass with a lanyard I'm supposed to wear, a team magazine, and an escort to the lounge area.

It's still hot out despite the sun sinking quickly beneath the horizon. Hopefully, it will cool down soon or else I'll be sweating like a packed mule in my seat, which is the opposite of what it was like attending Rory's games. I frown and try to stop comparing the experiences because it isn't fair to Andrew. It's difficult to separate them, though, because it's a whole different lifestyle than dating anyone else. You date a doctor, and you don't get special passes into the examination rooms, thank goodness. I once went on a few dates with a coroner, and I cannot express how pleased I am that I was not invited to watch him work.

"Here we are, Miss Clarke," the woman says. "Someone will be by once the game begins to take any food orders you'd like."

"Oh, uh, thank you," I say while taking in the sheer size of the stadium. I haven't been in it since I was a kid, but still, it seems even bigger now than it did then. I check my ticket and realize I'm allowed to sit anywhere in the lounge. There are several tables set up beneath a shaded pavilion as well as regular row seating toward the front. I'm not sure where I'm supposed to meet Andrew, so I settle into one of the tables to watch both directions—the main entrance, and a side entrance that says employees on the door.

However, I don't expect him to scale the stairs from the dugout at the bottom of the stadium, two at a time, until he reaches the divider. He leans over it and rests his elbows on the wall. "Hey, beautiful. You made it."

He's not wearing his uniform, but still sports a team tee and his ballcap. Breathtaking isn't the right word for this man, but neither is handsome. He's somewhere between downright angelic and rugged woodsman. Whatever the proper descriptors are, I can't quite believe he's looking at me and calling me beautiful.

"I didn't realize this was such an exclusive lounge. The one at the hockey rink is…never mind." Ugh, why did I bring that up?

Andrew frowns but moves on with the conversation after a little shrug. "Eh, baseball is better anyway. I'll meet you in a second. Gotta take the side door around." He motions that the dividing wall is the only thing between us and heads toward a short hallway. Once he disappears, I take a second to pull myself together. The hockey rink? For crying out loud, I need to stop comparing this to my past experience.

The employee door opens and Andrew steps into the lounge. "Hungry?" he asks.

"A little. The attendant said someone would be around soon to see about food." I run my hands through my slightly damp-from-sweat hair and try to calm myself. Speaking with him on the phone over the past week was one thing. We got to know each other's likes and dislikes, a little more about our families, and that sort of thing. But now that he's here in front of me again and I remember how scorching hot he is, my whole body is in a panic. I'm going to do something stupid.

"I can get you something now if you're hungry. Didn't you leave right from school?" He leans on the table beside me, giving me a view of his gorgeous eyes.

"I went home to let Ginger out first and grabbed a protein bar. I'm good for now." I smile as wide as possible hoping it will not only convince him I'm excited, but also soothe my frazzled nerves.

"Okay. Well, the game is about to begin so do you want to watch or talk?"

"Oh, uh, well if I'm honest, I don't watch much baseball. Not since I was a kid. Wanna teach me all about it?" Surely, sitting quietly while he explains everything about the game will help me calm down and settle back into the easy relationship we had before he went on the road.

On the road.

That's it.

That's why my heart is pounding and my brain is on the fritz. It didn't hit me until now, but him going on the road brought up insecurities I thought I was working through. Every single time Rory went on the road without me, he was spending time with someone else. Eating dinner with someone else. Kissing someone else.

"Lottie, are you okay?" Andrew reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, bringing me back to reality.

"Um…" I try to swallow the wad of cotton in my mouth, but it's too dry.

"Hey, if you don't want to be here, it's okay with me. We can do something else after the game or meet up tomorrow if you want." His thumb strokes the back of my hand, soothing me enough to remember that not all men are like my ex. Andrew called me every night. He texted me several times throughout each day. He sent me pictures of Goblin that his sister sent him. He even sent me a list of ideas for the carnival that he came up with on the ride to the first game. I was on his mind while he was gone, and it showed.

"No, I'm okay. I think I'm a little overwhelmed, but I want to be here. Teach me everything." This doesn't eliminate his furrowed brow or pursed lips, but he gives me a little nod anyway and pulls out the chair across from me.

"A crazy thing happened after the last game in Tennessee. I talked to Martinez."

"Like a real conversation, or shouted insults to one another?" I tease.

"An actual conversation, believe it or not. Some of what I learned is kind of personal so I won't repeat it, but I think I got to the root of his attitude issue. He agreed to let me mentor him and help him ease into the pro level a little more." He shrugs. "Plus, I'm pretty sure raking up two losses in a row made him enemy number one with the guys, so he needs me on his side."

I realize he's still rubbing my hand, so I put my other one on his and smile. "That's really good. Maybe all he needed was someone to confide in all along."

"I guess we'll find out tonight, won't we?" Andrew chuckles and glances down at our pile of hands. This is so much more than friendship, and maybe I knew all along I'd never be able to maintain such a ruse. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I didn't walk away and never look back.

Music begins and the teams head out to the field amongst cheers and chants. Andrew quickly runs down what to expect, but this much I remember from childhood. A waitress enters the lounge and takes our food order, and I note there are no other patrons with us. Maybe it's a super private lounge? Or maybe he set it up so we'd be alone? Who knows, but I'm not complaining.

By the time our food comes, we're in the third inning and I'm pretty confident I can figure out this game. I nibble a chicken finger while Andrew shovels down three corndogs and half of my French fries.

"I'll get you more, I promise. I didn't think I'd want any, but those are actually really good," he says after swallowing four fries.

"I don't mind sharing, honest. I'll never eat them all."

He winks at me and stands. "Let's go down to the row seating and watch for a while. From there, I can teach you about the different kinds of pitches and we can even discuss…wait for it…" He holds up his hands as if he's about to offer me something extra exciting. "Are you ready?"

I freeze with anticipation. "Hit me."

"I can list out our player stats."

"Statistics? Oh, do tell me more," I say and wiggle my eyebrows. This earns me a hearty laugh, so I add, "Are you trying to reel me in even more, Rossi?"

He slips an arm around my waist to lead me to the seating and leans in close to my ear. "Is it working?"

"Math is the way to my heart. I guess we'll have to wait and see." My cheeks don't flame like the usually do, so I take it as a win. I'm getting more comfortable with him, and he's clearly testing my boundaries. He tucks my hair behind my ear, brushes his hands over mine, keeps me snug by the waist…all of the touching. All. Of. The. Touching. And everywhere he brushes his fingers springs to life under his light pressure. Chills run up my spine when he shifts his hand to my lower back, guiding me into the seat before settling beside me.

I like this side of him. His trustworthiness was cemented when he kept most of Marco's story private. He wouldn't divulge gossip even to me, which makes him a good friend. I like it, and I want to know more about the inner workings of his moral code.

Several more innings pass while I learn everything I could ever want to know about baseball statistics, pitching style, and how Marco was doing much better tonight than he did in the last two games. He's almost fatherlike in his shouts of support and in the way his eyes light up when Marco throws strike after strike.

"He is on fire tonight," Andrew admits. "I guess I can retire knowing the team is in good hands after all." Andrew settles back in his seat while the team swaps on the field in preparation for the second half of the sixth inning.

I'm not sure how touchy of a subject it is at this point, so I dip my toe in with an easy question about his possible retirement. "How is your shoulder?"

"Mmm, still sore in the morning but overall it's improving. Doc said I might be able to play in another week or so."

"That's great, Andrew!" I'm admittedly excited to see him pitch but my excitement is mine alone. Andrew lowers his head and bites his lower lip. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, really. Part of me thinks that even if my shoulder is better it's only a matter of time before it's injured again. I don't want to have permanent issues with it, so I'm contemplating retirement more seriously now."

Guilt spreads through me like wildfire. Retirement means he won't be traveling, but it also means he'll be unhappy. Besides, he made it pretty clear that he's not the cheating while on the road type. My fears are entirely unfounded, and what's worse is they're detrimental to his happiness.

"Andrew, I hope you know I'll support you through this. Whatever you decide, I want you to be happy."

His eyes connect with mine and he finally grins. "Thanks, Lottie." He intertwines our fingers, and that's when it happens.

The kiss cam.

The awful, horrible, must be at every sporting facility in the world, kiss cam. It lands on us and the crowd goes crazy. I glance at the mega sized screen across from us, all the way on the other side of the stadium, and can't help but sink deeply into my seat. Andrew chuckles at my embarrassment and pats my arm before waving the camera away. Rather than follow his instructions, the camera man zooms in on us and adds little popping heart bubbles to the screen. It's obvious he's not going to pan away until we kiss. The jerk.

I've kissed Andrew's cheek before, so it's probably fine to do it again. Hopefully that will satisfy the raving audience and convince the cameraman to move on to another unsuspecting couple.

"This is insane. I'm going to kill Tony for this. I swear I did not ask him to do this." Andrew's cheeks turn red as he shakes his head and motions for the camera to go away again. I giggle and reach deep down into my gut for some courage.

I sit straight in my chair and lean over, ready to leave a sweet peck on his cheek.

"You do not have to kiss me. Just ignore them. The game will start back in like ten seconds and he'll have to stop," he says and turns his head to look at me just as I go in for the cheek kiss.

My lips land right on his and we both freeze. The crowd erupts in a cheer but we're both paralyzed in place. I don't move. He doesn't move. Nobody is moving, so we're stuck in time with our lips touching like two kids who have never kissed before. I finally realize after much thought and freaking out, that he's just as shocked as I am…but also confused. I know what I planned to do, which was kiss him on the cheek, but he has no clue what I'm doing or thinking.

I have a choice to make, and I need to do it fast because this lip pressing thing has just passed shocking and is on a high speed adventure right into the most awkward moment of my life. Do I want to kiss him? Well, I don't not want to. I hadn't planned on it, but now that we're in the beginning stages of it, I'm not opposed.

The crack of a bat sends a screeching warning through my whole body. I have to choose. Now.

I close my eyes and press harder, which is all Andrew needs. He buries his hands in my hair and matches my pressure for a sweet, innocent first kiss. I hum a sigh and he releases me. He presses his forehead to mine to hide my flushed cheeks from the camera.

"You didn't have to do that," he whispers.

"I know," I say, my voice croaky and heavy. "I was going for your cheek and it went all wrong, but I don't regret it."

"No?" He pulls back, eyes searching mine.

I shake my head. "No, but I have to be honest. I'm not ready for a full-on relationship thing. It was a sweet kiss and I'm okay with it, but I definitely don't want to move quite that fast."

Andrew pinches my chin lightly and grins. "I hear you. I'm glad you're here, Lottie."

"Me too."

And just like that, we settle back into our friendly game of guess the stats while I try not to overthink—or underthink—our first kiss.