Todd lobbed the ball, underhand and slow. “Here it comes!”

“I can see that!” I knocked it back at him and tapped home base twice with my bat, sand puffing up to my ankles. “Try a real pitch.”

He sighed and glanced at my dad in the stands. “I don’t know if Roy would like that.”

“I guess I’ll have to find someone who isn’t afraid of him to warm up with,” I teased, propping the bat on my shoulder.

As Todd rattled off some defense, the clanking of the fence behind me drew my attention. Damon’s fingers curled through the metal loops as he stretched his legs. While our company shirts were blue, his team’s were red. Bright. Passionate. Much like the dark look he sent over when he caught me staring. 

“So we meet again,” he said, his fingers lingering on the fence links as if he was loath to let go. “I didn’t realize you were into sports these days.”

“I’m… playing the game.”

“Aren’t we all?” He pulled something out of the pocket of his loose athletic shorts and strode up to me so quickly that I took a half-step back, off-balance. “Heads or tails?”

“What?”

“Who bats first? Call it!” He tossed the coin in the air.

The brilliant light reflecting off it almost blinded me.

“Tails!” Todd called, jogging over as I claimed, “Heads!”

Damon caught the quarter on the back of his hand and arched his eyebrow. “Which one of you lovebirds is the official representative?”

“We’re not together,” I insisted just as Todd puffed up his chest, announcing, “I’m the team captain.”

“Good to know.” Damon’s smirk only further irritated me.

Todd couldn’t even let me call a coin toss? Had he always been this controlling?

Damon revealed the coin. The regal profile on its face stared off into the outfield, disinterested in our (former) lovers’ quarrels. “Heads.” He held out his other hand and smiled. “I’ll be needing that bat, please.”

Sighing, I slapped it into his open palm. At least he said please.

During the game, I mostly did what I was told. Run. Catch. Throw. Hit? Damon covered first base, which made me want to steal second or get tagged out instead of awkwardly standing on top of him.

In the final inning, we just had to get one more out without another run and we’d win. Of course… it was Damon’s turn to bat. Runners on first and second base.

“Move in,” Todd encouraged the outfield with a grin.

The others shuffled infield, but I held up my hand. “Wait, I think he’ll go for a run, not just a base.”

Leonard shrugged. “Captain says move in!”

Damon just rolled his wrists in small circles, waiting for the pitch.

I wasn’t going to stand by while Todd led us to another loss. I ran backwards as fast as I could during the wind-up, pitch—and the hit! Damon’s muscles rippled, his teammates bolting for their next base, but my focus trained on the ball soaring through the sky. Grass tickled my ankles as I sprinted, stretched, and… caught it!

I twirled around, pumping my mitt into the air. “I got it! I got it! I—” My victorious yell cut off as my team swarmed around me, cheering, Damon’s team slowing to a dejected jog.

Todd hoisted me up onto his shoulder. “Wow, who knew? Alina, our newest superstar!”

I clung to him with one hand and high-fived the hands of our teammates with the other. This was the most anybody had ever cheered for me! 

I beamed and looked for my dad, whose two-finger whistle pierced the air. He waved and clambered down from the stands.

Todd helped me down from his shoulder, his grip steady on my waist. The faint scent of sweat and his speed stick reminded me of our honeymoon. Sleeping in Egyptian cotton sheets, champagne and strawberries, infinite reassuring touches. A perfect week.

 Todd’s teeth poked over his lower lip. “What do you say we celebrate with a drink? My treat!”

“Mmm—maybe.” It wasn’t like one drink meant we had to get married.

I skipped off to center field to meet Damon’s team, high-fiving them in a gesture of good sportsmanship along with the others.

My mouth ran dry as Damon approached from the end of the line.

“Hey. Um, good game,” I said.

Instead of slapping my palm, he held his hand out to shake. “Good game.”

With a wry smile, I clasped his hand. The up-and-down motion combined with his steady gaze wrapped some kind of warmy, fuzzy feeling around my brain. Or were they leftover endorphins from winning the game?

Dirt clung to one side of Damon’s chest and streaked across my thighs. If business—or baseball—was a battlefield, we were both warriors.

Todd lightly punched Damon’s shoulder, breaking off the handshake and our moment. “Sorry you can’t seem to win this week. Good game, though, buddy.” 

“I wouldn’t say this week was a total loss,” Damon said coolly and returned to his teammates.

Sighing, I marched off towards the bleachers and ripped the pins out of my hair. “You didn’t have to rub his nose in it!”

“I wasn’t!” Todd insisted. “And we’re lucky we didn’t do business with him. Guy is a Grade-A jerk.”

Not from where I was standing. In fact, Damon seemed to get on pretty well with his team and accept the loss with dignity. Clapping backs, joking around, chatting with everybody. Of course, he wouldn’t be like that around me, the ex. The enemy.

Though apparently, he had no problem changing his shirt where anyone could see. Damn it… how did he have time to work out and run a company?

I hurried to gather my things, my cheeks hot. “Where are we celebrating?” I asked Todd.

“Anywhere you want. There’s a place within walking distance…” He pulled out his phone as we joined some of the other teammates.

But something about the other team’s casual camaraderie made me turn to my coworkers and shout, “Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” Half the team answered, the rest pausing mid-packup.

“How about we all go somewhere to celebrate? Pizza and pitchers?” I offered.

“On me!” Dad added.

Todd raised a hand, most likely to object, but I clapped my hand over his, shaking it in the air as I shouted, “Go team!”

“Go team!” our coworkers cheered.

And just like that, I knew I’d be able to lead them to another victory.