“Hoping I can get this girl to come to my game tonight.” I nudged Brooke playfully.
Val rolled her eyes. “This boy and his sportsball.”
“Softball,” I corrected. Val shrugged, like it made no difference. “And it’s the Battle of the Badges tonight. Firefighters versus cops,” I informed them. “And tomorrow, if she’s up for it, I thought we’d go to the zoo.”
Brooke squeezed my hand under the table.
We said our goodbyes to Val and Yvonne after brunch.
“I like them,” she informed me as walked across the sand, swinging our arms back and forth like she had when we were kids.
“I like you,” I told her, nudging her with my hip.
“I like you, too.” She reached up and pecked my cheek. I’d never get used to being on the receiving end of her casual affection, the way it made my heart soar. “So—softball, hm?”
“If you want to come...” I trailed off.
“Of course I do.”
“That the girl?”Blaze asked from the dugout, nodding towards Brooke.
“Yeah, that’s her.” Warmth spread across my chest as I saw her up in the stands, sunglasses over her eyes, long brown hair whipping softly around her face.
“Dude, look at your face. You’re so gone for her.” Blaze shoved me playfully.
“Yeah,” I said back, head in a daze. “I really am.”
Her eyes found me and she waved. I was hopelessly, ridiculously, impossibly gone for this girl.
28
BROOKE
Fun Fact #58: The city of San Diego gets more than 30 million visitors per year.
Cade looked delectable out there in his softball uniform, playfully shoving his firefighting buddies and jeering the opposing team of police officers. Apparently this was a longstanding rivalry, but a good-natured one.
I chuckled to myself when I saw CASANOVA stitched across the back of his gray jersey. I grinned when he came up for his turn at the plate and he tipped his bat toward me in the crowd.
The police team won, but despite the jeers back and forth, both teams agreed to meet up for drinks at a local bar after the game. Evidently the cops got to pick the location, since they had come out victorious.
My hand in Cade’s, we entered the painted-brick building, which looked like every TV show version of “off-duty cop bar”—wood floors, wood walls, and wood tables. I slid into a booth, and Cade headed up to the bar. I cringed internally when I saw him walking back with two glass bottles. I knew I’d told him Ididn’t drink, and I hoped he wouldn’t pressure me in front of his friends.
He slid in next to me, smelling of dirt and sweat but somehow also still like men’s deodorant and something quintessentially Cade.
“Strawberry creme soda,” he said in my ear, plopping down a bottle for each of us. I gave him an appreciative smile. His friends joined us, bringing over baskets of fried pickles and onion rings.
“You and Cas, huh?” said the young guy across from me. He had dark hair, floppy on top and shaved closer on the sides. He wore a mischievous grin, one I was sure worked well for him when it came to attracting female companions. I recalled the back of his jersey had said BLAZE. “So how’d you meet my boy?” he inquired.
“We’ve actually known each other since we were kids. But we didn’t get together back then.”
“I wanted to,” Cade chimed in. “The timing wasn’t right, though.” He squeezed my hand and I felt the familiar zing of electricity run up and down my arm. “She was more than worth the wait.”
I leaned in and kissed him, even sliding my tongue into his mouth, and the guys began to whoop and holler.
“Get it, Cassssss!”
My cheeks burned when we broke the kiss, but I felt a surge of pride at knowing how proud he was to show me off to his friends.
