Chapter 1
Three and a Half Years Ago
SADIE
“For it’s one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball game!” I finish the seventh-inning stretch with one arm slung over Tate’s shoulder and the other outstretched in front of me like an opera singer as I hit that last note.
The crowd claps and cheers, proud of themselves for participating in the most iconic baseball game tradition.
Tate sits, but I need to stretch my legs.
“I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?”
“Get me a Coke,” he says as I scoot by him.
I take the stairs two at a time and head for the nearest concession stand, finding my place in the back of the line.
“Hi!”
The greeting is so eager it startles me.
I turn over my shoulder. A guy in a backward Cubs hat smiles big at me. What in the name of handsome men is happening right now? Sandy-blond hair curls out from the side and back of his hat, complementing his rogue-ish stubble. His gray t-shirt fits like plastic wrap over broad shoulders, snuggly accentuating every muscle. And are those green eyes? Like, for real?
“Hello.” I politely nod then turn forward again, brushing him off as an over-friendly Cubs fan.
“I’ve been watching you all game in a totally non-threatening and non-creepy way.”
I puff out a laugh, glancing back. “Is there such a thing as a non-threatening and non-creepy way to watch somebody?”
“Oh, totally. I think I mastered it here today.” The corner of his mouth lifts flirtatiously. “When I saw you get up from your seat, I knew I had to come and talk to you.”
“You’re not helping your non-threatening argument.”
He laughs a little. “I know, but just hear me out. I’ve been watching you from four rows back, and I don’t think the guy you’re with is that into you.”
“Really?” My brows hike up in amusement.
“The only time I saw you two touch was just now during the seventh-inning stretch, and that’s typical baseball stuff. Everyone sways together during ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.’”
I can’t help my growing smile. “Is this some kind of relationship intervention?”
“You could call it that.” His green eyes glow with more cute confidence. “I mean, you’re not even my date, but you have all my attention.”
“Wow. Have you been practicing that line the whole game?”
He chuckles good-naturedly, and there’s something about his boyish embarrassment that’s really endearing. “It’s not a line. I honestly can’t tell you the score of the game because I’ve only been focused on you.”
“The Cubs are losing.”
“See, I didn’t know that.”
I’m flattered, but I don’t believe a word he says. I turn fully to him. “And just what about me has you so mesmerized?” This is usually where guys crash and burn and say something stupid like, ‘You have a nice rack.’ I stare at him expectantly, waiting for something of that caliber to come out of his mouth.
“You caught my eye, and I haven’t been able to look away since.” Okay, I’m listening. “You seem happy and full of positive energy. That’s how I like to live my life, so I’m typically attracted to people with that same vibe.” He lifts his fingers, pointing to my face. “And I love your freckles. They’re almost unnoticeable, but when you do see them, they add so much character to your face. And then there’s your smile.” He says it like an afterthought. “You’re just really beautiful. How do you describe that instant spark?”
He passed my little test with flying colors.
Now, it’s my turn to feel an unexpected spark.
“I hate to break it to you”—I straighten, putting up a clear boundary—“but I’m in a relationship already.”
“Yeah, I know. But how serious is it?” He nods back to the seats where Tate sits. “You know, with the guy out there?”
My mouth pulls into a grimace. “Pretty serious.”
“But there’s wiggle room, right? Tell me there’s room for somebody else to maneuver in?”
“I’m afraid not. Me and the guy out there…we’re so serious we’re like life-long-commitment serious.”
“I don’t get that vibe with you two at all.” He tilts his head with so much confidence it’s an unfair advantage over every other guy in existence. “There’s absolutely no romantic connection between the two of you.”
I roll my eyes, giving in to his game. “He’s my brother.”
“Brother.” His mouth pulls into the most charming smile yet. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“He may be my brother, but I’m still not interested.” I step forward with the line.
“Aw, come on.” A small frown appears. “I’m not that bad. You’d go out with me, right?”
I glance up and down his frame like I’m taking inventory. Everything about him passes the physical appearance test, but I still answer, “Nope.”
“Why not?” He backs up, throwing his arms out to the side. “My nose might be a little crooked from when my brother broke it in sixth grade, but other than that, I’m a pretty good catch.”
I study his lifted brows and raised chin. There’s an energy about him too, something more than just cockiness or confidence. Just by his posture and our short conversation, I can tell that he’s laid-back and fun—the type of guy who breathes life into a party. He could probably have any woman he wanted, and the fact that he wants me will put an extra spring in my step for the next week, which is perfect timing since I start my new job on Monday. I need all the confidence boosts I can get.
But that’s where my relationship with this guy stops.
“You’re attractive. I’m sure plenty of women love you, but?—”
“You think I’m attractive?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Actually, you did.”
“I said plenty of women probably love you. Just not me. I’m already in a relationship with someone else.”
“Don’t lie just to get rid of me.”
“I’m not lying.” I laugh. “I really do have a boyfriend.”
“Give me some credit. It’s the classic excuse to let me down gently.”
“It’s not an excuse. His name is Stetson Roeshine?—”
“Sounds made up.”
I laugh again. “He’s not made up. We’ve been together since third grade.”
“I bet he has a really punchable face.” He says it with a smile, letting me know it’s just a joke.
“As long as we’ve known each other, nobody’s ever punched him. So I think you’re wrong about that.”
“I’m available to do the job. I have an excellent right hook.” His expression is so fun-loving I realize I can’t take anything he says seriously.
“Save your right hook for another guy.”
“Alright.” He places his hands on his hips. “Your fake boyfriend was the final blow. I’ll take the hint and leave you alone.”
His head subtly drops in defeat, and I feel bad, but I’m first in line at the counter.
“I can help who’s next,” the woman yells at me.
“I hope you can at least watch the game now,” I say to him before stepping up to order.
“I’ll try my best.” He smiles, and wow! I’m reminded again just how charming it is. I’m madly in love with Stetson, but I tell the truth, and the truth is, this guy has quite a smile. The kind that lights up a room...just not mine.
I order a water and Coke and walk back to Tate.
“Here you go.” I hand him his drink, debating whether or not to tell him about the guy four rows above. I decide not to because he’d probably tell me to go for the Cubs fan. Tate’s a protective older brother, and with all the recent drama between me and Stetson, he’s over that relationship.
The woman behind us taps Tate on the shoulder. “The guy a couple rows up wants you to have this hot dog.”
Tate’s face morphs into confusion as he looks over his shoulder.
Four rows up, the man from the line points at the dog Tate is holding. “There’s a note on it!” he calls over the crowd.
Tate looks down and starts reading the scribbled message written on the wrapper. “Bro, I’d love to take out your sister. If she’s lying about having a boyfriend and you don’t think I’m crazy, please give her my number.” Ten digits follow his note.
Tate turns to me, and my entire face colors.
“You’re blushing!”
“No, I’m not.” I look straight ahead, ignoring him.
“And what’s with that smile?”
I roll my lips together, hiding all the evidence.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Like him? I don’t even know him.” I give my brother a pointed look. “Plus, I’m with Stetson. I love Stetson.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you're not with Stetson. He broke up with you last week because you moved to Chicago.”
“We all know that wasn’t a real breakup, just a desperate plea for me to stay.”
“Maybe it should be a real breakup, especially now that love-at-first-sight guy is in the picture.” He turns in his seat, waving back at him.
I peek back too, feeling my face heat.
I grab Tate’s shoulders, forcing him forward again. “Do not encourage him!”
“All I’m saying is maybe you should date somebody new while you’re in Chicago. You’ve never been with anyone else besides Stetson, and on your first day away, you get hit on. It’s a sign that there are more fish in the sea besides your lifelong boyfriend who loves you so much he just dumped you.”
“He didn’t dump me. It was a posture move. Besides, Stetson is…great. I’m one thousand percent confident in my choice to stay with him.”
“What an endorsement,” Tate says under his breath. “Someday, I hope my girlfriend describes me as great. Maybe she’ll add really neat to the list.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I meant.”
He holds up the hot dog. “Do you want me to save this just in case you change your mind about the Cubs guy?”
“No need. I’m with Stetson.”
Kind of.
Technically, he did break up with me, but he was mad about Chicago. I know he loves me, and I love him. By the end of my internship, we’ll be back together.
“Well, I’ve never seen you blush over Stetson or smile the way you did for that guy.”
That’s because Stetson and I have foundational love. This is just flirting—something we rarely do anymore.
One of the Cubs players swings and launches a ball to right center. The crowd explodes as the ball goes over the wall.
I stand and clap, grateful for the distraction.
Stetson is top-tier. Despite what Tate says, I don’t fall over myself or get flustered by other men.
But as I clap, I peek over my shoulder one last time.
Cubs guy is already looking at me. He tips his head, giving me another one of his winning smiles. My heart throbs in the pitter-patter way that has only ever happened with Stetson.
But it’s been a long time since my heart has had the opportunity to beat like that.