Off the Mark

by Kathryn Nolan

“See? I’m already improving.” I cocked a thumb over my shoulder. “A drunk guy yelling at us in a bar is basically the Philly stamp of approval, even out here in the ’burbs. We’re golden now.”

The way holding him as he cried gave me a feeling I’d never experienced before—a fierce protectiveness that made me want to commit acts of violence against every single person who’d ever wronged him, even slightly. If he’d asked me to tear the world in half to ease his agony, I would have eagerly said yes.

“Every single time I walked into that bar, it was because of you. Every night I stayed late, it was because I wanted you. You were all that I cared about, and I thought I’d moved past it. Except then you showed up again, and it was like nothing had changed for me.”

“I never had to pretend to worship you, Charlie, I always have—”

“You’re looking at my house, gorgeous,” he said. “Stoop, sidewalk lawn chairs for drinking beer and saving parking spots, and the Phillies.”

“Thank you for inviting me tonight,” I said. He cocked his brow in disbelief. “You’re thanking me? I was about to thank you for letting my family South Philly all over you.”

“So let me be very clear. I am in this for real. I am in this for you. And I’m not running this time.”

“Question.” She tapped the bat in the dirt. “If I’ve seen A League of Their Own at least a dozen times, does that make me an expert?” I laughed as she stepped close. “A Rockford Peach if I ever saw one.”