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Rowan leapt into the air, his right arm reaching into the air and catching the ball right as the batter slammed into his stomach, taking them both down onto the field.
Choking on my dinner, I jumped up and stood inches away from the screen, waiting for Rowan to move from under the other guy.
Coaches and players ran out from the dugout, everyone huddling on top of each other while trying to unknot the pair. I was screaming at the screen, now too worried to eat. The commentators were blabbering about Rowan’s record, replaying the tumble that had him flopping over like a limp toy. Glancing back at my couch, I remembered him as anything but limp when we kissed. I couldn't imagine someone as taut and conditioned as Rowan could look so helpless. My mind went back to the night he held me on the couch, how us together in reality felt just as incredible as I’d imagined.
The commentators broke my daydream, excitedly shouting when Rowan gave a thumbs up while standing with help from Diego and one of their coaches. The crowd lost their shit. So did I.
Falling to the floor, it hit my chest like Rowan going down on that play. I’d fallen for him, and I was still falling.
He said we were perfect together in every way, but I knew it stopped there. He told me countless times there wasn’t a future to the fantasy, in his own way. How else would I interpret him not being romantic, not dating, and the entire list of reasons he was single? That kiss on my couch wasn’t the game, it wasn’t part of the act, and it left me regretting listening to rationality.
Alone and curled on the same couch where he held me beneath him, I watched the Emeralds win the World Series. They stormed the field, running out like a tidal wave to embrace each other. The coaches came next, then the media, and finally it was the families. Wives and girlfriends clung to the players, children danced around the pitcher mound, everyone so picture perfect. Even Erica, my once competition, was there. It didn’t matter anymore. It was November in two days.
EIGHTEEN
I woke to the autumn rain tapping the window in my bedroom. It was the middle of the night on a weeknight, meaning I’d be sending Maggie for coffee more than once at work. When I reached for my phone, a nervous tickle rattled my chest. I had two missed calls and one message from Rowan.
Sitting up in bed, I listened to the message, with the low crackle of his voice untying the feelings I’d sewn up tightly the night the Emeralds won the World Series.
“Meredith, it’s me,” his message began, “and I’m just… We won! All of it. The team, the series, you and I. I, shit… I don’t know. You’re the first person I called. I guess I wanted to see if you were awake so we could celebrate. I’ll be out of town until Saturday. Heather took my cat to socialize their kitten. It sounds weird, but whatever.” He was rambling. Normally, every word he said had purpose, like he processed it all to be perfect, just like his image, but his message was far from it, and all the while adorable. It ended with his voice faltering in a crowd of others, and I sat on the edge of my bed, listening to it two more times just to hear the way he said my name.
I got to work early, having trouble falling asleep after the rain woke me and Rowan’s message kept me up. With the quiet office, I got my bearings before anyone else arrived. When I looked at my baseball calendar on my desk, I realized the date. Even though it was Halloween, I peeled off October’s page to reveal November. Ryan Marshall’s grin mocked me as he plastered the page, standing in his uniform with a bat in his hand.
It was him pushing whatever limits my friends put around me with Rowan’s teammates that brought me to that morning, wondering how to prepare myself for my fake up. Nobody remembered Rowan knocking him down because I was off limits, not after the scheme we pulled to clear his image. He was Mr. Wholesome, Mr. Perfect. Mr. Not Mine.
“Good morning, Meredith,” Harrison greeted me, eyeing the crumbled calendar page I was tossing across the room for the trash. “That was quite a game!” I smiled in agreement, not sure I could talk about it.
If I thought about our fake relationship, then that game was quite a game. I should’ve known better. I should’ve made a keyword to tell him my heart was in play, but I never thought it would be. And now, I didn’t think I could ever dislike Rowan like I once had. He gave me another part of him. We kissed in my apartment, that time because we wanted to, not because we were on camera. Was he thinking of me? Of course. He called me first. But what was he thinking and how much?
“Thank you for your dedication to our organization,” Harrison continued, sitting across from me. “You could’ve chosen any place in Portland to donate your winnings to, and you chose here.”
“I believe in what we do,” I argued. “It wasn’t a question.”
He fiddled with his wristwatch, his wrinkled eyes squinting with excitement when he looked back up at me. “It’s more than enough.”
“What do you mean?” I thought back to the staff meetings in which Harrison showed us the prognosis. Worry etched across his face when he had to admit the organization he founded might not last to the end of the year.
“Have you ever heard the saying about reaching for the moon and landing on the stars?” Harrison inquired, still not giving up why his smile was so bright. “And if you hit for home, you’re not alone?”
“That’s cute,” I playfully mocked him, meanwhile feeling disheartened by the baseball reference. “Tell me what star we’re on, or who we’re with on the field.”
Harrison leaned closer. “First base.”
I stopped wiggling my ankle and stared at my boss, blinking to clear the daydream I must’ve been having.
“Pardon?”
“I’m trying to tell you we didn’t need the donation after all. We’re thrilled you shared it with us, beyond words, but before you won the contest, I received a call from Rupert in our financial office.”
My stomach sank. If it was all for nothing, I’m going to be crushed. Our fake break up was imminent and now I was losing my job. “Wh-what did he say?”
“It was about two weeks ago that the owner of the Emeralds made a significant donation.” Harrison glowed, grinning and gesturing wildly as he told me the story. Two weeks ago, I told Rowan I needed time off. Then we kissed. For real, not for fake, making it all so much messier.
“They want to partner with us and bring us on as a bridge to help kids access baseball, learn about working as a team. I want you to lead the program.” He tapped my desk as he stood. “Just think about it. Any fun plans for this weekend?”
Still gaping, my mind elsewhere, I looked at him. “My friends have a party every year that I usually skip. I don’t like Halloween.”Or sweetest day. No. I did like that one now.
I called Aubrey during a lull in the afternoon, checking on what she needed me to bring to her party on the weekend, but she went into a ramble about the wedding. Their rehearsal dinner was in another few weeks and their moms switched the food order without checking. It was a mess, but I took it on to distract myself.
