Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Sam
We’re on our feet cheering for Adrian after he successfully stole second base. He brushes red dirt off his white uniform and grins at us from across the infield.
When we sit back down, I whine to Griffin, “Why’d you have to give up the suite? It was so much nicer watching summer afternoon games in the air-conditioning.”
He looks at me with a teasing side-eye as he says, “I’m sure you could arrange to join Lily in their suite sometime now that you’re officially a Crowns WAG.”
I side-eye him back but can’t hide my smile. “Wives and girlfriends club. Didn’t see that one coming, did we?”
Jason sits on the opposite end of our foursome next to Danae, and he starts spouting off Carlos’ current batting average as he steps into the batter’s box.
Normally, I like to sit next to Jason when we come to games together, but Danae wanted to separate him from being featured in the barrage of photos that are sure to get posted on social media today.
Pictures of me. Watching Adrian play. For the first time as his girlfriend.
It’s still surreal, despite the very real amount of time we spent together yesterday.
We sat on Adrian’s back patio eating sushi and talking until the sun set.
Although I got back to my apartment by 9:30 p.m., I was awake for another couple of hours responding to countless messages from friends asking if the dating rumors were true.
I wound up talking to my mom on the phone for thirty minutes, reassuring her that I’m in a good headspace with this relationship.
She knew that Adrian and I had started dating, of course, but I think she was caught off guard that we’d be so public about it after Griffin and Danae held off press attention for as long as possible.
By the end of my conversation with Mom, I started second-guessing my decision-making, so then I spent another thirty minutes on the phone with Alice. I should send her flowers for staying up so late talking when she has to get up early for work, but I needed her voice of reason to calm me down.
I also needed her voice of reason to slow me down a little.
Which is why I did not go to the store this morning to buy an Ortiz jersey to wear to the game today. I’m sporting one of my favorite Crowns T-shirts from three years ago rather than wearing Adrian’s name across my back two weeks after we started dating.
It’s also why I called Marcia and arranged to go to her house Friday morning even though Adrian would likely be available then since they have a night game.
I’ll attend the game with Griff and Jason, then I’ll work my first day at the salon on Saturday.
Danae and I are spending all of Sunday working together on wedding plans.
I’m trying to keep my responsibilities and relationships in balance instead of dropping everything to mold my life around Adrian’s schedule.
Because the voices of reason are pulling the reins on my heart that wants to run wild into everything with Adrian.
After swinging at a curveball that was clearly a ball, Carlos steps out of the batter’s box and taps the bat against his cleats.
He takes a couple of practice swings before stepping back up to the plate.
This time, the pitcher throws a fastball right down the middle, and it cracks hard against Carlos’ bat, pinging through the hole between the first and second basemen.
Adrian takes off in a sprint, and the entire crowd screams, willing him to make it home.
The third base coach signals him forward, and he crosses home plate a split second before the ball reaches the catcher.
He pumps a fist in the air and turns to egg on the cheering fans.
Our seats behind home plate are close enough that I see the sparkle in his eyes when he looks our way.
He doesn’t blow a kiss or point in our direction—nothing that would obviously send attention my way. He just pats a hand over his heart before he jogs to the dugout and celebrates with all the teammates waiting for him.
“See, now, you wouldn’t be able to make googly eyes at Adrian from the suite,” Griffin murmurs, and I elbow him hard. He grunts but laughs.
“You’re one to talk,” I chide. “Your eyes haven’t had any setting other than googly ever since you met Danae.”
“That’s true,” he says before leaning over to kiss Danae’s cheek.
“Are you even paying attention?” Jason yells at Griffin. “We need to talk about the big plays on the podcast. Get your head in the game, Griffin.”
Danae, Griffin, and I all burst out laughing.
Griffin does lock in, which is a good thing since there are a lot of big plays to pay attention to. Several involving Adrian. Jason records them all in his miniature notebook.
After his fourth hit of the game, Danae leans forward to smile at me around Griffin. “It’s almost like Adrian has someone to show off for today.”
“It’s because I demolished him at mini golf yesterday. He’s trying to prove he has skills,” I joke.
“No, I think it’s because he likes you, and you’re here watching,” Jason says confidently.
The three of us burst out laughing for a second time.
Adrian definitely proves his skills by the end of their decisive 7–2 victory.
His postgame interview is being streamed on the jumbotron as the reporter congratulates him on the four-hit game.
They’re interrupted by Drew and Carlos dousing Adrian with water bottles—not sure where the typical cooler of Gatorade went—before the reporter asks an obviously leading question.
“Is there anyone in particular you’re dedicating this win to today?”
Adrian grins and wipes his hand through his hair, shaking the water off onto the ground.
“Every win is for every Crowns fan. Every person who shows up to cheer for us, every person watching at home or secretly listening at work. All of you believing in us—everything we do out here on the field is for you.”
Although it wasn’t the answer the reporter was fishing for, she pivots and reiterates the loyalty of the Crowns fan base. As she turns her attention away from Adrian for her sign-off, I catch Adrian’s sly wink into the camera.
My heart cartwheels.
Adrian gives high fives to kids leaning over the stands and pauses to sign a few autographs, but he’s quicker to head inside to the locker room than usual.
The four of us step into the stream of people leaving the stadium.
Griffin gets stopped to take some photos, but I continue with Danae and Jason on the stairs.
Once he rejoins us, we take the back channels we’re all so familiar with to wait in the family area outside the locker rooms.
As players begin to trickle out, Griffin receives several back-slapping man hugs. A few of the guys stand around catching up with him, and Adrian comes out the door. Griffin continues talking to Luke, but I notice his eyes are on me as Adrian strides over.
Adrian wraps his arms around my waist and lifts my feet off the ground in a hug. He’s quick to return my toes to earth and releases me, although he keeps one hand on the small of my back.
“I’d tell you ‘good game,’ but you already know that. And we’re still working on keeping that ego in check,” I tease, and he grins down at me.
“I’ll say ‘good game!’” Jason exclaims. “Great game, Ortiz! You gave us a lot to talk about on the podcast, bro.”
I manage to catch my laugh before it escapes, and Adrian just smiles at Jason testing out the “bro” waters. “Thanks, Fireball. I always get jealous when other teams take up more of your airtime on the podcast. We had to make sure the Crowns dominate the conversation this week.”
Griffin joins our circle, and a wordless look passes between him and Adrian.
Adrian continues talking to Jason, but his hand tugs me closer to his side.
Marcia’s smiling as she opens her door. She’s neatly dressed in a pair of elastic-waist slacks with a matching blouse and a light cardigan. Glancing down at my cutoff jean shorts, plain tee, and Converse high tops, I hope I’m not disrespectfully underdressed.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Sam!” Marcia says. “Please come on in. I thought we’d have a little something to drink before we start on the cookies.”
“I’m sorry I’m a few minutes late! I definitely walked up to the wrong door first. All the identical buildings threw me for a loop,” I say as I follow her into the living room. “But you have a very nice neighbor in the unit around the corner—Deborah, I think was her name.”
“Oh yes, Deborah is quite nice,” Marcia agrees. “She’s quite the cheat at bridge, though.”
Chuckling, I say, “Please do spill all the tea over drinks.”
Her brow furrows. “I’m afraid I don’t have tea. I thought it would be too warm. I have a very nice homemade lemonade, though.”
“Oh, I wasn’t asking to drink tea—tea is another word for gossip,” I explain. “Spilling the tea or pouring the tea is another way of saying you want someone to share the juicy gossip with you.”
Understanding lights in Marcia’s eyes, and she says, “Well, if you want to hear all the bridge gossip, we may need to add something a little stronger to the lemonade.”
“Mar-shuh!” I exclaim, drawing out her name. “Strong drinks at ten in the morning? I never knew retirement communities were so scandalous.”
“You don’t know the half of it, honey,” Marcia replies in a no-nonsense tone. “Come on into the kitchen and pull out your teacup.”
I giggle as I follow Marcia, but I’m halted by the sight of several photos displayed on top of a sideboard.
“This is Harry?” I ask, indicating the many pictures of her and a man throughout the years.
The question is rhetorical, considering the lovestruck expressions on their faces in each snapshot through time.
“That’s my Harry,” Marcia confirms. “I told you he was rather dashing.”
“I’d go so far as to say quite dashing,” I tell her with a wink. “I’m only sorry I never got to meet him. Especially after all the stories you told me about your life together. He sounds like he was your perfect match.”