Page 1 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
ChapterOne
SOPHIE
June 9, 2022
“I love that you married Seb.”
Ryan stretches out his legs as far as they’ll go and sighs.
“Seriously, Soph. These seats are amazing. I mean look at the leg room. Look at it! My legs are fully extended and my feet barely touch the seat in front of me. And the seats are cushioned. Cushioned!”
“Babe,” my best friend, Maisie, taps her husband’s leg. “I’m sure you meant to say you love that Sophie married Seb because he’s such a good guy.”
Ryan sits back up quickly. “Oh yeah, Soph. That too. Seb’s awesome. Way more awesome than these seats.”
“Ry, it’s fine. You can love Seb and the seats at the same time. I do. Well at least I used to—”
“What? You don’t love Seb anymore?” Ryan whispers as he leans over Maisie’s body to get closer to me.
“The seats, babe.” Maisie pushes him back. “She doesn’t love the seats anymore.”
“Oh,” he says, stretching out again. “Why? They’re the best seats in the stadium—right by the dugout and like ten feet from the field. I could almost touch the players.”
“The seats are fine.” I lean over Maisie and whisper to him. “It’s just that people have started recognizing me since that miamibballbabe bitch started posting pictures of me on Twitter. It’s weird. I just want to watch the games, but people are always trying to take pictures of me—or worse with me. I hate it.”
“Do you two want to sit by each other?” Maisie pushes me back and slides her arm around my shoulders. “Soph, you know how passionate Seb’s fans are. They think getting close to you will make them closer to him somehow.”
“I know,” I say, laying my head on her shoulder. “Most of them are cool, but it’s still weird. Seb’s the famous one. I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want people to notice me.”
“Is that why you’ve started dressing like the Unabomber at games?” Maisie flips up the bill of my baseball cap. “I can barely see one square inch of your face.”
I shove her hand away and pull the cap back down. “It’s good sun protection. That’s all. Pay attention. Seb’s coming up.”
As if on cue, Seb walks out of the dugout toward the on-deck circle. I’ve seen him do this hundreds of times now, but I still get stupid turned on when I see how good his butt looks in the uniform. He takes a few practice swings, then turns around and smiles at me. He does that every time—every single time—and it still makes my heart skip a few beats. I blow him a kiss.
“You’ve been married almost a year,” Maisie says, nudging me. “I thought your mutual obsession with each other would have faded a little by now.”
“Nope. I think I’m even more obsessed with him now.”
“Me too,” Ryan coos as he starts fanning himself.
“Shut up, weirdo.” I reach across Maisie to slug his shoulder.
“Honestly,” Maisie says, “I think Ryan will divorce me and try to marry Seb if you ever break it off.”
“He’ll need to get in line,” Paige chimes in from my other side. She’s dating Seb’s teammate, Manny.
“What?” Maisie looks over at her. “I thought things were going well with you and Manny.”
“They are. Really well. I’m not talking about me,” she says, patting my leg. “Seriously, Soph, I don’t know how you handle it. Every available woman in America wants to be with Seb. Frankly, most of the unavailable ones too.”
Maisie scowls over at Paige. “But he only wants to be with Sophie.”
“I know. I know,” Paige says, holding up her hand. “I’m just saying I’m glad Manny isn’t as famous as Seb. I don’t think I could take the extra attention. Your friend Raine told me she feels the same way. She can’t wait for Alex to retire so she doesn’t have to deal with the fan love quite as much, and she’s not even at most of the games. You go to all of Seb’s games, right? Even the road games?”
Seb heads toward home plate. The intro to “Especially in Michigan” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers blares through the stadium sound system. The team plays it before Seb bats to honor his home state.
“Yeah, I’ve been to almost all of the games this season,” I say as I watch him dig in at the plate. “I like watching him play in person, but I’m not sure how much longer I can do it. I think I’m starting to be a distraction.”
