Chapter 25 Ian
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
IAN
After what, thirteen years of baseball, I should be used to everything that comes with the game, right?
For the most part, I think I am, but getting a lungful of dust while sliding home isn’t something I ever want to get used to.
Sure, we beat Providence U, just at the expense of putting me on all fours, hacking like I hit a cigarette for the first time. It’s all for the love of the game, I guess.
I finally stop coughing and accept the bottle of water that Nick thrusts into my face, and I take a massive swig. Then, since I’m now freshly recovered, my teammates swarm me, slapping my back and pulling me in a bunch of different directions for a shot at a side hug.
This long-ass stretch of away games is finally coming to an end, having brought us from New York to what feels like every single college in New England with a baseball team.
At least we have a two-week stretch of home games before our next overnight, and the prospect of sleeping on my own cushy mattress with Callum curled up next to me has my brain spinning in anticipation.
These hotel mattresses have a whole lot of lumps and a painful absence of Callum. My mattress has a whole lot of Callum and a wonderful absence of lumps.
I’m freshly twenty, and I’m already picky about sleeping conditions. Does that make me a diva? Maybe.
Okay, yes, it definitely does, and I don’t want to change that.
The post-game debrief is over in a flash; Coach Ramirez probably wants to get some rest as much as the rest of us, so we scramble for the limited showers as soon as he’s done, and I’m lucky enough to snag one first.
I’m efficient, and I sneak past Nick, who claims my stall the second I unlatch the door. Honestly, the team should set up a sprinkler on the field or something so we could get this over with faster, without having to fight our own team for a stream of cold water.
After getting dressed, I reach for my phone, and I break into a wide, lip-splitting smile as soon as I see the message from him.
Callum Cross
How’d the game go?
My face is visible to the whole team, but they can call me whipped, sentimental, soppy, or whatever. I don’t care. Callum’s mine, I’m his, I’m head over heels for him, and that’s the way things are.
Good! We won
Thanks to me lmao I scored the winning run
That’s awesome!
Can’t wait for you to get back
Oof. I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just that my chest tightens and sends dull pangs of longing through my whole body.
I miss him so bad all of a sudden. Like, I’ve been missing him, but not in an achy, urgent way all the time—it’s more that his adorable quirks are notably absent from my life, like the way he mumbles nonsense as he’s falling asleep, how he twitches when he’s about to wake up, and how he randomly hugs me from behind.
Yeah, oh boy, I’m so gone. Callum lets me be my whole, over-the-top, affectionate self without pushing me away.
“You’re thinking about Callum, aren’t you?” Jeremy nudges me and grins, which makes my face heat up.
“I am. He’s texting me.” There isn’t a situation I can think of where I’d ever want to deny it.
Jeremy scoffs. “Oh, man, you’re so fucked in the best way. You’re stone-cold sober, yet you’re smiling like you’re crossed on a fifth of liquor and, like, a hundred edibles. ”
That’s quite the visual, and I crack up. “Love is one hell of a drug, man—”
Whatever the modern equivalent of a record scratch is, that happens.
Holy shit. I said it out loud. Not to Callum, but I said it. It’s the first time I’ve ever said it in that way, and my god, it feels so right.
“Are you… Is that…” Jeremy tilts his head.
“Yup, I love him.” That rolls off the tongue so easily.
“What’s going on here?” Nick asks, toweling his hair and joining us.
Jeremy replies before I can. “Scotty’s in loooove.”
Nick looks to me for confirmation, and I give it to him.
“That’s fast,” he says.
“Yeah, we’re almost two months in,” I reply. “And I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I just know.”
“Like how?” Nick squints at me.
“I’d take a bullet for him.”
Jeremy jerks his head up. “Woah, easy there, bro. That’s intense.”
I smile back. “It’s only a figure of speech. You know what I mean.”
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Are you gonna tell him?”
I nod. “Uh-huh. I will in a bit. Like, I know it’s still early, so I’m gonna sit on it for a while. But it’ll slip out soon.”
“What if he says it to you first?” Nick asks.
“Yeah, he might steal your thunder,” Jeremy adds.
Scoffing, I pretend to tie my shoelaces so I don’t have to look either of them in the eyes with a blush on my face. “He wouldn’t steal my thunder. That’d only make me fall for him even more.”
When I straighten back up, Nick is rolling his eyes while laughing, and Jeremy makes a short, mocking gagging noise.
“Dude, you’re gonna give me a hundred cavities. Stop it.” Jeremy tries to punch my shoulder, and I dodge, making him slam his fist into the wall instead. “For real, though, I’m glad you two found each other. You seem way happier now.”
“That’s ‘cause he is,” Nick says for me.
And it’s true.
Surprising nobody, the hour-long ride up to Boston turns into two, thanks to traffic. Callum has an afternoon class, so I don’t text him, and I spend the bus ride reviewing the incoming freshmen who’ve already decided to join our team next year.
Hunter from Michigan and Oscar from Taiwan. They both seem solid, and Hunter went to the same high school as Jeremy did, so it’ll be good for him to have a friend on the team right from the start.
The five minutes it takes me to review their stats passes in a blink, and then I’m back to staring out the window. At least it’s kind of pretty outside, or as pretty as I-95 can get in Southern Mass.
Callum’s face is prettier than some dumb trees.
Fuck, I miss him. He tried to say sorry for getting “mad” at me before I left, which I had to shut down in a hurry.
He wasn’t mad, and he wasn’t being unreasonable at all.
He’s allowed to do what he wants and to stand his ground, and that’s what he did.
The last thing I want is for Callum to go along with everything I suggest and bottle up what he actually thinks. That’d be plain unhealthy.
At least I’ll be back home in two days so we can return to our normal life of classes, games, and waking up next to each other.
Grr. I need my strong-armed morning hugs like nothing else.
We pull up to our hotel in Back Bay, which is way swankier than the dingy suburban pit-stops we’ve holed up in so far. Playing against Boston University College does have its perks, especially with their neighborhood connections.
As usual, the team hangs around in the lobby while the team admin staff hand out our keycards. I stick next to Nick since we’re rooming together, and the rest of the team filters up to their rooms, leaving us behind.
Finally, Coach Ramirez gets to the last card, and flicks his eyes to Nick. “Russell, you’re in 405. That’s it.”
That’s it? What am I gonna do, sleep on someone’s balcony? I shoot a confused look at Nick, and he shrugs, a weird half-suppressed smile on his face. I’m about to ask him what the hell he’s thinking when he sends a nod to someone behind me, before heading for the elevators.
Then there’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around.
And I almost trip backward over my own feet.
It’s Callum.
Callum’s here.
“Holy shit, it’s you,” I blurt out.
Jesus, I could not have come up with a worse welcome line. He came all the way here for me, all adorable, kind-eyed, and smoking hot in that blue Henley, and I greet him with disbelief.
“It is,” he says, stepping closer. He pulls me into a tight hug, not giving me a chance to save myself, and kisses the top of my head. “I missed you.”
“So did I, oh my god.” I grip him tighter and spin him around. “What’s going on?”
“I heard you were a little nervous, so I got us a room for tonight and tomorrow.”
“Just like that?” I ask, and he nods, smiling wide. “This means so much to me. Thank you for coming.”
Manners? Found at last.
“Come on, let’s go,” he says, reaching out to relieve me of my gear bag.
We make our way up to our room, and yeah, I’m so gloating about this to the team—Callum snagged a Deluxe room with a king-sized bed.
As soon as he puts my bag down, he hugs me from behind and shuts my brain off, flooding it with pure affection.
“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” I murmur into Callum’s bicep. “I’m so freaking lucky to have you.”
He hugs me tighter, resting his head on my shoulder. “You have. But don’t say it again because you’re activating my praise kink.”
Okay, he wants to stay wholesome for now. I bite back the temptation to shower him in compliments—I’m strong enough to hold out. I’ve done that for days, so what’s a few more hours? Or minutes? Hopefully minutes.
I’m a mess.
The tight grip he has on me, coupled with how good he smells, is decimating my resolve. I slide out of his arms and sit on the bed, facing him. “Are you feeling better now? It’s been a week since, uh, that DM.”
He nods once, resting against the wall and crossing his arms. I force my eyes away from his burly forearms and up to his face, which doesn’t change how attracted I am to him.
“I sure am,” he says. “Once I realized that my parents can’t realistically do much, or anything at all, I got over myself super quickly.”
“Still, that must have been scary,” I reply.
“It was.” Callum uncrosses his arms and joins me on the bed, reaching out for my hand.
I accept it, placing my fingers over his and sliding them through the gaps, and he squeezes once.
“If I want to live my life the way I want to, I have to, you know, actually do that.
If I have to do a little faking it ‘till I make it, I'm gonna do that.”