“No shit?” He turned his head slightly to stare at her.
“Mmm-hmm. My father landed an adjunct professorship at Boston College one semester. A colleague gave him some tickets. It was cool.”
She smiled at the memory of her father enjoying something outside the world of academia.
“We sat really close to the dugout. I could see the players change gloves and dig into the bubble-gum bucket. And in the eighth inning, this really big guy got up to the plate. He swung that bat so hard I thought for sure the ball would end up outside the ballpark. But he only tipped it, and itthuddedinto the ground at his feet. He picked it up and then, casual as can be, turned and tossed it right to me.”
“Which player?”
She frowned. “He was wearing number thirty-four.”
Mason sat up so fast, she could feel the wind he displaced. “What year?” Both his tone and his eyes were suddenly intense.
“Mmm. Pretty sure it was 2011.”
“Fuck me!” He grabbed his chest like she’d given him a heart attack. “That was David Ortiz. You got a ball touched by Big Papi.”
When she blinked in confusion, he said, “Ten-time All-Star? Three-time World Series champ? Seven-time Silver Slugger winner?”
She winced and admitted, “I wasn’t much of a baseball fan and—”
“Please tell me you kept it,” he interrupted.
“Of course. It’s in a box with a bunch of other souvenirs in my parents’ basement.”
“Listen to me carefully.” He pointed at her nose. “Next time you go ’round to see ’em, you find that frickin’ ball, take it out of the box, and put it inside a plastic baseball display cube. They’re cheap and you can order ’em online.”
“Oh-kay…” She was confused about why one dirty baseball was such a big deal. It sounded like this Big Papi guy was special, but it wasn’t like he’dsignedthe ball or anything.
Maybe only baseball fans can appreciate its significance, she silently mused.
“Promise me,” Mason insisted, his eyebrows slammed into a V.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” She used her finger to draw a cross over her chest before lifting her hand in pledge.
That seemed to satisfy him. He nodded and dug into the picnic basket for a brownie. After unwrapping it, he lay beside her and took a giant bite. The fresh smell of chocolate made her stomach rumble.
Or maybe it was the smell ofhim.
She wished she wasn’t so aware of him. Wished she didn’t notice every time he took a breath or made a sound.
Friends aren’t supposed to be so attuned to each other, she admonished herself.They’re not supposed to feel every move the other makes.
It was something she’d need to work on. Something she’d need to practicenotdoing in the weeks and months to come if she had any hope of keeping her love for him a secret.
Had she mentioned she hated secrets? Was complete crap at keeping them?
Above her, a cloud took on a recognizable shape. “Look.” She pointed. “It’s a baby elephant.”
He slid his head closer to hers so he could follow the direction of her finger. A lock of his hair tickled her cheek.
“Looks more like a baby rhino to me.” Hearing his voice so close had an unseen hand tugging at an invisible string attached to the bottom of her belly.
“Nowit does.” Her voice was husky. Did he notice? “The wind cut off its trunk and shortened its ears. Fifteen seconds ago, it was definitely a baby elephant.”
“There’s a bunny.” He pointed and then licked his finger when he saw a speck of chocolate icing stuck to the tip.
The sucking sound had her heart thundering.
