I wasn’t sure what was louder; my groan or the cheer from the crowds watching us around the stadium. But I didn’t get a chance to enjoy more than the briefest taste of him, the quickest swipe of his tongue before our perfect moment was ruined.
“Okay, show’s over. Get down, right now Reeves!” yelled Coach Chase. “You’re acting like a goddamn teenager!”
Jupiter smirked but did as he was told and disappeared into the dugout.
“I told you he’d run off the field,” whispered Lowe.
When Jupiter came out for his first time at bat, I finally got to enjoy the butterflies fluttering round as they dissipated all the nerves. And I really got to enjoy the way he turned and winked at me, just before he took position.
Then I got to see the wavy line he drew in the dirt, the way he always did. But for the first time, I realized that it was more than a wavy line… much more than a wavy line.
I saw it for what it really was.
An M – for Marnie.
How had I never recognized it? Though I knew a small voice, Jupiter’s inside voice, was telling me it was because I’d never truly acknowledged his truth, that he’d never stopped loving me, and his future was our future.
That he loved me as much as I loved him, and this time he wasn’t going anywhere.
I could finally allow myself to believe it.
For the rest of the game I sat in a beam of his sunshine, warmed through to my bones with the knowledge that Jupiter Reeves once again belonged to me.
Jupiter Reeves wasmyboyfriend.
The Lions won, seven to two. Jupiter would be forgiven for delaying the start of the game because four of those runs were his, along with the handful of Brewers players he’d caught out.
The crowds were still cheering as they dispersed, clearing out of their seats when he pulled me down the steps by the dugout and yanked me onto the field. His callused palm wrapped around mine and stayed there until he found the quietest spot he could, because he was too desperate to see me to wait until we got home.
His blue eyes bored through me as he stopped us on the other side of the tunnel, the side away from fans leaning over the railings for autographs. He stared, really stared, as though seeing me for the first time.
It was the way he’d stared at me that first day in Penn Shepherd’s office.
The way he stared as he helped me pick up my text books in the hallway after Josh Ridley knocked me over.
His fingers flattened out a crease on my t-shirt, tugging on the hem to straighten it, but it was like he was buying time, trying to believe I was really standing in front of him.
“I didn’t notice you. I thought Ace was being the dickhead he usually is, so I didn’t notice. I hadn’t wanted to look up and not see you there.”
I brushed my hand over his soft whiskers and cupped his cheek. “I know, but I’m here now, and I won’t miss another one.”
He took my palm, placing it to his lips. His breath was hot against them as he said, “I want to read what’s on your shirt.”
I stepped back, so he could. He read it over and over, until his eyes misted. “I fucking love you, Marn.”
“I know,” I pushed up on my tiptoes for a kiss, then reached into my back pocket and passed him a thick cream envelope, nodding for him to open it. “I want to show you something,”
He ripped the seal and unfolded the paper, pulling out four more behind it. His brow creased deeper the longer he continued to study it. “What is this?”
“Well…” I peered over the first page and pointed to a crudely drawn little box. “This here is the kitchen. See? There’s the kitchen table, and that’s the stove top you had fifty different pictures of.” I glanced up at him, but he still looked confused. “I’m not great at drawing, but I took inspiration from your Pinterest board.”
“But, Marn… what is it?”
My eyes flicked to his, and back to the paper. “It’s our house.”
It took a couple of seconds for him to blink. “You drew out our house?”
I searched his face like he was searching mine. It had taken half our lifetimes, but we’d finally found each other again. For good.
