The Dugout(74)

“No, you’re not.” He laughs, his minty breath heavy against my skin. “I actually think you took great pleasure in busting all of our balls tonight. It started with the pickles and it ended with showing us up at stickball. Your swing is actually pretty incredible.”

“Thanks. I mean, it’s not amazing, but it can get the job done, and I figured if I’m going to teach I should at least have a decent swing. Practicing with my brothers was one of my favorite things.”

“And yet you didn’t play softball. It’s still so weird to me.”

I shrug. “I was passionate about baseball. What I really wanted was to play with the boys, but my high school wouldn’t allow it, no matter how good I was. Kind of shitty.”

“Kind of? If you want to hang with the guys, why not?”

“Because girls have softball. If I wanted to play the sport then I was told to try out for the softball team. And don’t get me wrong, softball players are badass. If you make one mistake, the other team can gain a mile. And the game is so quick and fast-paced. But the two sports are different, and I’ve always been into baseball more. It’s weird, I know.”

“No, I get it. I really do. The mechanics are different especially when hitting. In baseball, the pitcher’s arm is falling down, creating a different spin. With softball, they work the up and the down, the left and the right, there’s a different perspective, and if you wanted to be an expert in one, might as well choose the one you love the most.”

I sigh. “That’s why I like you so much. You get me.”

“You like me sooooo much?” he teases.

“Maybe, yeah.” Thankfully my back is to his chest so he can’t see my blush. “What about you? Do you like me sooooo much?”

“Hmm.” He thinks about it like a jerk and when I elbow him, he laughs and kisses my shoulder. “Yeah, I like you sooooo much. You’re one of a kind, Milly, and you’re all mine.”





Chapter Twenty-One





CARSON





“Will you stop fidgeting? Jesus Christ, you’re driving me nuts,” Jason says as we make our way to the Brentwood baseball stadium.

We just graduated.

We weren’t handed our actual degrees but we’ll slip the actual piece of paper in the fancy, pillowed folder later when it comes in the mail.

Now, I’m going to meet Milly’s family.

And . . . I’m nervous as shit.

I didn’t even want to walk today; it felt stupid since I didn’t have anyone there to watch me. Dad couldn’t get the time off, and I understand. I’ve always understood when it comes to my dad’s work schedule. I’m just hoping he can start to slow down now I’m out of college and will hopefully be drafted soon.

I promised him the first thing I’d buy with my signing bonus is a new truck for him. He told me not to be frivolous and to put it into savings, but there’s no way. My dad drives a rusted old Chevy on its last cylinder. When I was back home during Christmas break, we spent an entire day trying to get the clunker to start working, to last a few more years as my dad put it.

After everything he’s done for me, everything he’s sacrificed, he deserves a new truck, and I want to be the one who gives it to him.

Jason took some pictures for me in my cap and gown, and I sent them to my dad, letting him know I love him and that I received the care package from him. It was full of hot sauce from our hometown in Kansas and some cookies from Mrs. Wethering across the street. The lady is super nice but her cookies leave much to be desired. I really think she mistakes salt for sugar most of the time.

I’m still waiting to hear back from Dad. I asked Jason to walk me to the meeting point, because I’m a chickenshit. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.

Scratch that, I do.

This is the first time I’ve ever met my girlfriend’s family. I have zero practice where this is concerned and since it’s such a huge baseball family, I’m nervous they might not think I’m good enough for their daughter. Hell, Cory Potter is the family superstar. That’s some pretty huge talent to live up to.

And Cory won’t be there. I already asked and checked his schedule. He has a game in Pittsburgh tonight.

Kind of glad, because I’d feel so intimidated. Happy as shit, but intimidated.

“Do I look nervous? I feel nervous.”

“Yeah, you look like an idiot, so stop touching your collar.” Jason swats at my hand. “They’re just people.”

“People I want to like me.”

“Please, one look at those baby blues and they’re not going to be able to resist you.”

“Thanks,” I deadpan. “Nothing you want to say about my personality?”

“Yeah, actually.” I perk up. “Don’t show it, or you’ll come off like a real douche.”

I hate him.

“You’re such a pleasure to be around,” I say just as I hear my name being called out.

I turn to see my girl running toward me, her gown flapping in the wind and her hand clutched to her cap. Her hair is curled, and she has slightly more makeup on than I’ve seen before. Same gorgeous smile with irresistible dimples, same passionate sparkle in her eyes.

“Ahh, we did it.” She jumps into my arms and her legs wrap around my waist as I grab her. She presses her lips against mine and then pulls back, joy pouring out of her. “Oh, you look hot in your gown.”