Page 19 of Lucky 22

“Well, we were sitting right behind the dugout. You steppedout and looked out at the crowd, and…”

“And…?”

Ugh. I hope I don’t regret admitting this.

“And it felt like you looked right at me,” I blurt.

He stares at me for a moment before his eyes go wide. “Youwere sitting in the first row, right? There was a guy to your left and a girlto your right. And you were wearing my jersey.”

Now, my eyes go wide. “I was!”

Holy crap. I cannot believe he remembers that.

“You see, I am so focused during the games that I never lookat the crowd. That was the first time in my professional career that I had everlooked in the stands during a game. I remember you because I couldn’t believe Ihad broken my focus. I didn’t realize you were a Magic fan.

“Oh, I’m not a fan,” I quickly correct, and then realize howbad that sounds. “I mean, I don’t really follow baseball. I was wearing yourjersey because my…um…my friend got it for me. Twenty-two is my favorite number,and he thought it would be fun to get me a jersey for the game with that onit.”

“Twenty-two…?” His eyes narrow, and I have no idea why.

“Mr. Lucas?” someone calls out, and we both turn to see oneof the bat boys running out onto the field. “Sorry to interrupt, but you leftyour cell phone in the clubhouse.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize I left it. I guess I was rushingtoo fast to get out of there. Thank you so much, Jake.”

As Jake runs off, Christian looks at his phone. “We shouldactually get going so we have plenty of time for dinner before the restaurantcloses.”

I feel Christian’s hand come to rest low on my back again ashe gently guides me back to the outfield gate. My knees practically go weak.

“My car’s parked in the players’ lot, so…”

“Would it be okay if I drove myself to the restaurant?” Iask, feeling a little nervous. “No offense or anything. I just figured forlater on, after we’re done eating…”

“It will be easier for you to head home.” He smiles. “Not aproblem. I’ll drive you around to your car. Mine’s closer.”

“Oh. Okay.”

We stroll along quietly, and I’m not sure if it’s becausethere isn’t anything to say, or if we’re so close to his vehicle that hedoesn’t want to start a conversation. Still, I’m not a fan of the silence.

This really would be a good time for me to pull some randominternet facts out, but I’ve got nothing.

“I’m parked right over here,” he says, and I’m mildlysurprised—in a good way—when I see that he drives an older car, too. Suddenly,he’s a little more relatable.

He opens the door for me, and I’m about to climb in when Isee a beautifully wrapped box on the passenger seat. Christian leans in andgrabs it before holding it out to me. The paper’s white, with little pinkflowers on it, and it has a big pink bow.

I’m seriously twinning with this box, and it’s awesome.

“I had to get you a real present,” he says shyly.

“Oh, my goodness, Christian,” I say, smiling so hard that mycheeks actually hurt, but it’s worth it. “You totally didn’t have to do thisbut thank you.”

“Why don’t you sit down so you can open it a little easier?”

That’s a great idea, because it would be awkward whilestanding.

As I’m taking a seat, he jogs around to the driver’s side andjoins me in the car. We’re both grinning, and I honestly can’t believe he didsomething this sweet.

I carefully tear open the wrapping paper because I don’twant to seem too eager. When it’s off, and I open the box, I cannot evenbelieve what I’m looking at.

A Hello Kitty purse.