Page 51 of Praising the Pitcher

Gigi Jacobs exerts greatness when she’s on the mound. Today, I failed, and the last person I want to see me right now is her.

NINETEEN

GIGI

Since the football team has been on a winning streak, of course there was a party thrown at The Tower to celebrate their win. I wanted to go home, but Haven dragged me here and told me I had to stay at least one hour.

It’s been thirty-five minutes, but who’s counting?

When cheers erupt through the room, I know the players have arrived. I’m even more sure when Haven takes off running, and my eyes follow her as she leaps into her boyfriend’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him. She doesn’t give a shit that her brother is probably right behind him, and after how he played, I’m guessing he’s already in a bad mood.

I would be if that was my game …

He didn’t play with the same sureness of himself I usually see from him. It’s like he was frozen, stuck in one spot, and by the time he moved to get the ball, it was too late. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I hope he can get it together for the next game because even though the guy who came in for him did good, he isn’t nearly as fast as Noah.

Haven kisses Dallas once more before she drops down from his body, gives him a seductive smile, and then walks back over to me.

“That was … romantic?” I say, taking a sip from my water.

“Had to let the bitches in here know he’s mine.” She grins. “Peeing on my territory. You saw all the cleat chasers with his name on their backs.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how my mom always dealt with that when it came to my dad. I hate it.”

The corner of my lips turns up because I was shocked she hadn’t marched down a few rows and torn the girls’ jerseys off their bodies at the game. I figured she just didn’t see it, but now that I know she did, I’m impressed with her composure.

“So you saw that?”

“Of course, I did.” She spouts as Dallas makes his way around the room to all the guys congratulating him and the players following behind. “That’s why I practically dry humped him when he walked in.” She winks. “He knows what he’s got.”

I giggle, shaking my head as I try not to stare at the door, afraid if Noah walks in, his eyes will lock with mine and my heart will do that stupid thing it’s been doing lately when I see him.

I think the more distance I put between us, the less my heart will do stupid things. We’re friends, but my body is obviously confused.

A blond haired, rugged guy who’s even taller than Dallas and Noah, who somehow looks preppy yet tough at the same time, walks toward us, and I wait for him to hit on my friend while I awkwardly stand here and wait for Haven to chew him up and spit him out. But when I notice he’s wearing an NEU football shirt, I’m thrown off. He could be on the team. It’s not like I know every name or face, but if he is … why would he be approaching his quarterback’s girlfriend?

“Hey, Benny,” Haven says in a half paying attention tone. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” he drawls, and even with just one word, his southern accent is evident.

His eyes are on me, and I fight a squirm from the attention alone. He flashes me a perfect grin, holding his hand out.

“Gigi Jacobs,” he says. “The Gigi Jacobs. What an honor it is to meet you.”

I look at Haven, my eyebrows pulling together with confusion. Who is this guy, and why is he acting like he’s meeting a celebrity.

“Umm—” I stutter, but my voice stops and my hand doesn’t lift.

“I’m Benny Baker. I’ve been watching you since you were like … I don’t know, thirteen years old and already throwing harder than most varsity players.” He holds a drink in his hand. “My mom was a pitcher for the Comets, so naturally⁠—”

“Wait, what’s her name?” I completely cut him off—rudely, I’ll add—but I can’t help myself.

“Sierra J—” he starts, but that’s all I need to hear, and suddenly, it hits me that his mom is one of my all-time biggest idols.

“Sierra Jonhson?” I blurt out, my head buzzing. “Your mom is Sierra Johnson?”

He must give up on the handshake, because finally, his free hand falls to his side and his grin deepens.

“Yep, that’s her. Well, her legal last name is Baker … but in the world of softball, I think she’ll always be Jonhson.” He chuckles. “She’s a big fan of yours too.”

My mouth hangs open. Sierra was a pitcher for one of the first professional women’s softball teams in the United States. Now, the AUSL has grown bigger. But she’s a true pioneer for women’s sports.