Page 93 of Convincing the Catcher

“Trust me, they knew.” He chuckles, pulling me against him and squeezing me. “Let’s go. Now all I can think about is you riding my dick, and it’s making me hard.”

My gaze drops down to his pants, and within seconds, he’s grabbing my catcher’s bag and leading us toward the truck.

We walk hand in hand away from the field and into the parking lot. I look at my Baseball Boy with his hat on, his hair poking out at the back with his sunglasses on the visor, and warmth spreads across my entire body.

I’m not mad that I spent twenty years scared of distractions and keeping my head down. To me, that’s exactly what I needed to do to get to the place I am. With Cane, he understands that softball is and will always be a big part of my life. He never asks me to skip practices or workouts because he knows the hard work it took for me to get here.

We get each other. In so many ways. And because of that, I truly can’t be angry that I spent all these years waiting for him. Because he was so, so worth it.

FORTY-ONE

CANE

THREE YEARS LATER

There have been a lot of moments that I’ve been proud of my girlfriend. Too many to count because she’s Harland fucking Meadows. She’s as badass as they come, so how couldn’t I be proud? But today, she’s just played her first pro softball game as a Northern Nor’easter. She played the entire game, had a single, a double, and a triple, and she made a few crucial outs for her team behind the plate. And now she’s signing autographs for a group of little girls, all of them wearing a shirt with Meadows on the back and a two below her last name.

I’m watching her live her dream right now, and as cheesy as it probably sounds, her dream is my dream. So, I can say with absolute certainty that this is the best day of my entire life.

Harland always knew that she wanted to play softball for as many years as her body would allow her to play. And playing in this professional softball league was always her goal. I never had that dream to play in the MLB. I love the game, sure. I always will too. But not enough to do it professionally.

Besides, if Harland and I were both professional ball players, when the fuck would we see each other? Instead, I got the opportunity to open a baseball and softball training facility right here, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where the Nor’easters are based. And when Harland isn’t training here at the stadium, she coaches some softball clinics at the facility.

I feel like I found my calling, and if she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to play here, I don’t think I ever would have had this happen for me. So, like everything else, I have her to thank for helping me find what the hell I wanted to do with my life.

More people gather around her, and I know my girlfriend; she’d sign autographs all night without complaining because that’s just who she is. But when the assistant coach comes over, uttering something to her, she nods and signs a few more things before waving politely at everyone, likely telling them she’ll return shortly, once she’s done with whatever it is the coach needs her for.

Interviews probably.

Her mom walks beside me, holding a bag up. “Got my Nor’easter merch,” she says with a grin, peeking inside the bag. “And let me tell you, it was not cheap.”

I chuckle, taking a sip from my water. “She looks so happy, doesn’t she?” I say mindlessly, and she looks down at her daughter.

“She sure does,” she answers softly. “I wish her dad were here to see her. He would be so proud.” She pauses briefly. “She’s worked for this moment her entire life. As a kid, she knew this was what she wanted in her future. It seemed far-fetched to so many, you know. But I know my Harley girl. So, I knew … I knew that if she wanted this, she would get here.” She wipes her eyes. “There is no stopping that girl once she decides something.”

“I want to marry your daughter,” I blurt out. I pinch the bridge of my nose because that’s not at all how I envisioned asking her if I could marry Harland.

Swallowing, I exhale. “What I mean is, I really want to ask her if she’ll marry me. I’ve wanted to for a while now, but she’s been gearing up for opening day for months, and I just didn’t want to overshadow this day with anything else.”

She turns toward me; her mouth hangs open slightly. “Why are you always so damn selfless, kid?” She swats me gently. “It’s scary.”

“Well, I did go to therapy for it once, just so you know,” I deadpan before quickly shaking my head. “I’m kidding—kind of.” I stammer over my words. “Anyway … would it be okay with you? If I, uh, asked her?”

She stares at me, seemingly studying my face before finally, she throws her arms around my neck. “I would love it if you did,” she says, practically sobbing. “You two … you just get each other. And I’ll tell you, I never knew if anyone would get her the way she deserves. But you, Cane? You do.” She squeezes me. “And I know he isn’t here for you to ask, but I can tell you with my whole heart that if her daddy were here, he would say yes too. I know that.”

Now my eyes are glossing over, and I swallow back a lump. “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Today has been pretty fucking amazing. But now I want to make it even better. And while it’s for her, it’s also for me too. Because, goddamn, I want that woman to be my wife.

HARLEY

After all the interviews are done and all the autographs are signed, I gather my things up in the dugout, unable to stop myself from looking out onto the field.

I showed them, Dad …

I think about those words in my head, truly feeling like I really have shown anyone who ever doubted me or told me I wasn’t good enough that I am. And I got to play my first professional softball game today with my mom and my boyfriend cheering for me in the stands.

What in the world could top that?