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Ellery sticks her hand out and I slide mine into it. “Ready, baby.”
Am I bummed that summer is over? Yes. But am I glad, too? Hell yes. It’s time to put this part of our lives behind us and move on.
Bringing our joined hands to my lips, I kiss the top of her hand, before sliding my shades on, and pushing in the mixed tape I made for the drive. “Alright, then, let’s roll.”
Epilogue
Cruz
Six months later…
“Come on baby, shut ‘em down!” Ellery calls out.
I look over at my girl and wink, knowing she can see it, despite the distance between the pitcher’s mound and the stands.
I don’t care if the shirt she’s wearing strains against her chest, showing off those dangerous curves that make my mouth water. Having her here, watching me play and cheering me on while wearing my number, makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
Actually, scratch that. I don’t feel like the luckiest guy in the world. I know that I am because Ellery and I are together and we have our whole lives ahead of us. But knowing that might not have been the case had things gone differently last summer reminds me how much I have to be thankful for.
When I think about what could have happened the night Royce attacked her, it paralyzes me. The fear in her eyes when he pressed the gun against her head and cocked the trigger still haunts my dreams.
The idea of a world without Ellery is unthinkable. Life without her, one I wouldn’t want to live. Thankfully, it’s not my reality because that sexy, smart, funny girl I have loved since I was sixteen is here with me at Highland, and life couldn’t be better.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself so I know this life—the one where I get to play ballandwake up with my girl every morning—is real and not a dream because it’s not just good. It’s fuckingamazing.
Giving Ellery another quick wink, I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to the batter, adjusting my hat and preparing for my next pitch.
Leaning forward with one hand behind my back, I roll the ball in my hand, feeling the seams, and shake off the pitches Jake flashes me. When he throws out the sign for a slider, I nod and straighten.
Bringing my hand to my glove, I check the runner at First base, and seeing his lead is cautious, step back, hike my left leg up, and lean back. When ready, I bring my arm back, delivering a perfect pitch. It races toward the batter hard and fast, and when it slices the left corner, the batter chases it.
“Strike three!” The ump calls when he swings then misses. “You’re out!”
“Yes!” Ellery whistles. “Show ‘em who’s boss, baby!”
I’d once dreamed about moments like this—Ellery cheering me on from the stands as I pitched my team to a win. Last year when we clinched the championship and became the best team in D1, there was a moment on the mound when everyone surrounded me and I wished she were there.
I had always been the guy who was envied because of his arm. But now they envied me for that pint-sized southern belle who never misses a game, and it’s a rush like no other. I’ve got my girl and baseball, and that’s my focus, in that order, and I couldn’t be happier.
Once the game is over she waits for me to finish up with the team. As the last of the players make their way to the locker room, she runs over and jumps into my arms.
“Hey, All American,” she grins, while wrapping her legs around me. “Good game.”
I laugh and hold her easily with one arm while holding my bag in the other hand. “I’m sweaty.”
“I don’t care.” She grips my neck and gives me a kiss, humming in satisfaction as our tongues dance.
“If you don’t stop kissing me like this, I’m going to carry you into the locker room and fuck you in the shower.”
She reaches for my hat and slides it over her head. “Promises, promises.”
“On second thought.” I grip her ass and give it a squeeze. “We’re going home…now.”
She laughs and kisses me again. “Good choice.”
As I walk us toward my Jeep, she clenches her thighs, sending a rush of heat through me. “If you are this supportive during pre-season, I can’t wait to see you in the spring, baby.”
“Hey.” She runs her thumb along the stubble on my chin and beams. “I have years to make up for.”
