chapter 97
American League Championship
Ty,
I hate that you’re choosing baseball over us. This feels like a business decision.
Chase
Game 5. We won the championship in spectacular fashion, four games to one.
Two homers by Chase brought in a total of four runs, the team clicking, our fielding seamless, the Angels not standing a chance.
We popped champagne in the skybox, the air brimming with excitement, Dick pulling me in for a rare hug, shouts and cheers loud in the space.
I turned to the field, watching the team jump around each other, bodies colliding, a pile of celebration, more boys than grown men.
I watched the team and tried to find his jersey, number 28 finally spotted. He turned, his eyes finding mine in the skybox, and I smiled. He didn’t. His face darkened, and I jumped, caught off guard when Tobey’s arms wrapped around my waist, his mouth nuzzling my neck, a kiss against my cheek.
“I love you so much,” he murmured, turning me to him, my eyes darting away from Chase, reluctantly pulled by Tobey, his mouth firmly settling on my lips. The kiss saved me from answering, and when we parted, I smiled, glancing back at the field, but couldn’t find Chase.