Curveball(43)

My mother comes up behind Sammy, wedging herself against my side, and I pull the two of them into a hug. Since she went to rehab, things have been different. I was able to forgive her for all the horrible things she had done in the past, and now, we’re replacing those shitty old memories with happy new ones. I can finally hug my mother without smelling the stench of alcohol on her breath.

She doesn’t make enough money at the diner to not be at least somewhat dependent on me, but all of that will change if I get drafted. They won’t have to live in that house any longer. Just like my accident, our lives could change in a second.

“It’s starting,” Luca calls up to the second floor, where over one hundred members of our fraternity are hanging over the railing. “Shut up, so we can hear.”

Placed around the restaurant are huge flat screen TVs, so we can watch the Major League Baseball Draft to see if the Phillies picked me. For years, I checked out the draft with the hope that, one day, I would have that life-changing moment I could share with my friends and family. Now, my time is here.

“Turn it up,” Luca says to the bartender controlling the TVs with a universal remote. “Louder.”

With the speakers in the restaurant loud enough to break from the volume, I stand and wait with Luca, Olivia, and my family. I’m too nervous to sit down. Olivia holds my hand, her grip like a vise. She might be more nervous than I am. Sammy holds her breath along with my mother. Even Luca and his family look just as tense.

I suck in a deep breath and let it out, knowing the Phillies are going first since they were beyond horrible last year. You could hear a pin drop in the room as the announcement is about to be made. Olivia squeezes my hand even tighter.

“With the first selection of the 2017 MLB Draft, the Philadelphia Phillies select Mark Montgomery, a right-handed pitcher from Strickland University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.”

The entire room erupts into chants and people congratulating me. None of this feels real. Olivia attaches herself to my arm, kissing me and screaming. Luca and my fraternity brothers are howling, his family and those around them clapping. People are touching me, tugging on my shirt, and freaking out. My brain cannot even process the news, and my legs feel so heavy, I could collapse onto the floor at any moment.

After all the years of hard work and hustling, it’s paid off. I am free from living the same shitty life; free to do whatever the hell I want. With my heart racing so fast, the room spins around me, forcing me to take a seat in the closest chair. Cameras are flashing with news crews lined up around me, taking pictures.

Olivia jumps on my lap and slides her arm across my shoulders, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. “You did it, baby! You did it!” she squeals in my ear, her voice reaching a high octave.

“We did it.” Taking her face in my hands, I part her lips with my tongue, threading my fingers through her hair as I deepen the kiss.

She breaks away from me first, her voice a low whisper in the crowded room, the sounds of everyone talking and yelling drowning out her voice. “This is probably not the best time for you to…ya know”—her head lowers to my pants—“get hard. I mean, people would notice if you were to stand up right now.”

I look up long enough to see the flash of bulbs in our faces before pushing back her hair to whisper, “Go into the restroom, lift your dress up over your hips, and bend your sexy ass over the sink. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Mark”—she blushes—“these people are here to see you. We can’t go running off in the middle of your party.”

“Like you said, it’s my party, and I’ll do whatever I want. What I want to do right now is eat your pussy. Now, go.”

I do my best to tone down my boner to a semi by rattling off sports scores in my head, thinking of anything but her sweet ass before she hops off my lap.

“I’ll see you in a few,” she says, blowing me a kiss.

“And this is why you are going to be Mrs. Montgomery someday.”

Her eyes widen along with her mouth. “Don’t say things like that unless you plan to make them happen.”

“Oh, I plan on it. I was thinking, maybe we could get married where we first met.”

She throws her hands on her hips, annoyed. “You want to get married at Club Rave?”

I laugh. “No, but you’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed off.”

A soft punch hits my biceps. “You’re like poison…but I still love you. Sometimes, you can be such a jerk.”

I flash a wicked grin. “I love you, too, baby. I have a cure for your poison. Get in the restroom, so I can give you your medicine.”

She rolls her eyes.

As she turns around, I say, “Good girl.”

And the corner of her mouth turns up into a smile because those are her two favorite words to hear.





Epilogue





Olivia: Two years after the MLB Draft





Mark had insisted we sit in the club box at Citizen’s Bank Park, the home of the Philadelphia Phillies and the stadium where my man is about to pitch his first professional no-hitter. He had reserved the box for our group in anticipation for his first Home Opener, but the rest of his friends had other plans.

Luca and Izzie are sitting to my right with Silvia and Hunter to my left, the five of us huddled together in the seats behind home plate and freaking out about the game Mark has pitched so far. Sandwiched between the girls, I clutch each of their hands, the giant rock Mark had surprised me with last month just about ready to slide off my finger.