Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
DALLAS
FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER
There are a lot of sexy things my girlfriend does.
If she’s dancing, walking, swimming, hell even fucking sleeping on her stomach …
she’s hot. But when she’s on the field, showing every motherfucker in the stands why she’s the top-rated shortstop in college softball right now for the second year in a row? That’s the sexiest thing of them all.
I wear her jersey proudly, with her last name stretched across my back, though I’m secretly dreaming of the day her last name is Rivers.
NEU is playing the number-one-ranked college softball team, while we’re sitting at number four.
Last night, we won against them. And if we can do it again, it would be so great for this team.
They just have to get two more outs and this game will be over.
With the count two balls and two strikes on the batter, Gigi fires an outside pitch, and the girl swings but misses the ball, sending the NEU dugout, the fans, and the fielders into a celebration.
That’s two outs. They just need one more.
Almost as if he can read my body language and knows I’m nervous, Boston’s snout nudges against the side of my leg, and without looking down at him, I put my hand on his head and scratch his fur lightly.
Since we got him, if I’m able to come watch Haven play, he comes with me.
And if it works in her schedule to watch my games, they are both on the sidelines at mine.
I swear I’m more nervous watching this than I am ever playing in one of my own games. I’ve trained myself to stay calm because that’s when I play best. Just like the hot shortstop right now. She keeps her composure, though every time NEU makes an out, she does an adorable little dance.
“They are so much cooler than we are,” Cane says from beside me as we both stand against the fence, neither of us able to sit right now. “Way more badass.”
“You aren’t kidding,” I agree, watching my girl take her prep step just as Gigi pitches a ball toward the batter. It’s clocked at seventy-seven miles per hour, and I grin, shaking my head.
“Whooooaa, that girl is fucking fast,” I say, but my eyes soon move back to Haven.
When Gigi pitches again, it’s a hard hit to the left of her, missing by a foot or so. If their opponents get on base now, that’s going to put everything at risk because all they need is one run to tie this game up.
It hops off the dirt, seeming only to gain momentum, and I expect it to go out to left field, but I should never downplay the lengths Haven will go to catch a ball.
Diving toward second base, she catches it in her glove before rapidly firing it to first. Even on her side, her throw is like a laser. As the umpire makes the call that the runner’s out, all of the infield rushes toward Haven to celebrate. My girlfriend just made the game-winning play.
The entire stadium goes crazy, a sea of blue jumping up and down with excitement, but I keep my eyes on Haven, and within seconds, just like always, she finds me in the crowd and grins.
Dropping her glove onto the dirt, she holds her hands up, making a heart.
I may be the quarterback of the football team, and everyone knows me for being stone cold, but my girlfriend just won this game for the Eagles.
You’re damn right I’m going to be a six-foot-three man making a heart back at her.
“I love you,” she mouths, even though I can’t hear her over the noise, but I say it back, grinning like an idiot as my heart swells with pride.
That woman … that little badass … she’s going to be my wife one day. I know it.
I tilt my chin toward her teammates, telling her to go celebrate.
I’d wait all night if I had to—she’s earned this moment with them.
It’s her senior year, and even though I know she wants to play professional softball next year, she isn’t sure yet if it’s going to happen.
So even though I’d give anything for that dream to happen for her, I want her to enjoy moments like these in case it doesn’t.
She’s hugging Harley when a voice in the intercom says there is a special ceremony about to take place, and right away, the women from both teams look equally excited and nervous.
On the large screen of the jumbotron, videos begin to play—videos from the AUSL, the professional softball league that Haven has dreamed of being a part of for as long as I’ve known her.
For the past week or so, ceremonies like this one have been popping up unannounced.
If I wasn’t dating a girl whose biggest dream is to play professional softball, I probably wouldn’t know what this video meant.
But Haven doesn’t just play softball, she watches it.
So I know this means that someone from the AUSL is here, and whoever it is will likely have a golden ticket to hand out.
A golden ticket that takes one lucky woman right to their league.
They won’t know what team, but the ticket signifies that the league wants her on one of them.
All of the athletes stand side by side, watching to see how this plays out. Harley will be playing in the pros next year with the AUSL, but no one is sure where yet. This ticket straight to the league though … it could be anyone’s.
“And now, we have a special guest here to deliver one player from NE University the golden ticket!” the announcer says.
My heart feels like it may explode because I’m so fucking worked up right now. There are a lot of players the golden ticket could be going to today, but there’s one I’m hoping gets it because I personally know how much she wants this.
In about five hours from now, my entire family will be gathering at my parents’ house as we all watch the NFL draft together.
It wasn’t easy entering the draft and having no idea where I’d end up, but that was something Haven assured me we would deal with together once it happened.
Now, she could be headed to play across the country at any one of the AUSL softball teams’ stadiums.
No matter what happens, I want her to have her dreams come true. I want to play professional football, sure. But I want to be with her even more. Whatever happens today, we’ll get through it. Together. I know it.
As the special guest walks out, I look at Haven’s face because I know that even if it isn’t her who gets the golden ticket … she’s about to meet her idol.
HAVEN
Sis Bates?
My heart thuds in my ears. Sis freaking Bates, one of softball’s best infielders is here, right now. She holds a golden ticket in her hand, but I try not to let myself get excited for that because there are a lot of girls here today who deserve it. She could call anyone’s name.
And whether she calls mine or not, I’m going to force her to meet me. I’m not much of a hugger, but oh … she’s getting a hug. As a kid, I studied her fielding moves, determined to learn how to be as fast and smooth as she is. Now she’s here. At the Eagles’ softball stadium.
I have died and gone to heaven I believe …
I glance toward the fence behind me, widening my eyes and giving a cheesy yet nervous grin at Dallas, and of course I can’t stop myself from looking at my adorable baby boy, Boston, while he sits calmy at Dallas’s side.
That dog was one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me, and I hope he feels the same way about me and Dallas.
My attention turns forward again, back to my literal idol.
“This golden ticket is going to a player who shows grit and fight, is a leader both on the field and off, and I’m told is one of the team’s greatest hype girls, always positive and constantly praising her teammates and making them feel good.
” Sis pauses. “Also, someone who has impeccable backhand skills and can run the bases with the best of them.” She grins, looking around at all of us.
At the word backhand, my heart skips a beat because it’s an ongoing thing among our team that I’m the queen of fielding backhand.
I’ll admit … I like to show off a bit with it, too.
When her eyes land on mine and she’s beaming, I attempt to force my heart to calm down. She’s probably not even looking at me, but gosh … it feels like it.
“Haven King,” she says, and I feel like I may actually pass out. “You are our golden ticket recipient today.”
There’s been a lot of moments in my life that have been really cool, a lot of things I’ve done within this sport that I’m proud of.
But right now, someone I’ve looked up to for so long, a woman who, in my eyes, is the heart of fielding in softball …
is telling me I have a ticket to go join the pros.
Yeah. I’m pretty fucking proud right now, really.
My father is a retired NFL player. I’ve been around fame, and I’ve had money.
This isn’t about that though. This is about proving that if you want something hard enough—if you’re willing to work exceptionally hard and push through the times when you may feel like you hate it—anything can happen.
I dreamed of this. I worked early mornings and late hours, and even though I could have just ridden my father’s coattails, I wanted to make a name for myself.
I want to show every girl out there who has dreams of playing for the AUSL that she can do it. She just has to be willing to put in the work.
My team jumps up and down around me, all slapping my back and cheering. It takes me a few seconds to force my feet forward, but as I walk toward Sis, she heads toward me, meeting me in the middle—stopping when we are almost toe to toe.
Flashing me one of her signature smiles, she hands me the ticket. “Congratulations, Haven. The day you’ve dreamed of is here.”
Without warning, I throw my arms around her.
“Thank you,” I sob. “Thank you so much.”
“You’ve earned it, girl,” she says, patting my back. “You’ve truly earned it.”
Pulling back, I don’t even bother to wipe my eyes because I know the second I see my parents, Dallas, Coach, or Boston, I’ll just be balling again.