Chapter 26 Priorities
PRIORITIES
GREY
The crowd cheers behind me as the game comes to a close, but my stomach is in my throat as Molly practice swings in the on-deck circle.
I've had one hell of a time keeping myself in check with her all night.
I didn't want to leave her place early, not after last Saturday night lost in her, Sunday wrapped up in her.
Cooking breakfast together, halfheartedly working on the house, too busy stealing kisses between paint strokes to be productive.
It was like a fucking dream. And when I finally left Sunday night, it took everything I had to walk out that door.
My house has never felt so empty. My bed has never felt so cold.
The week was torture, each day agonizingly slow, the clock ticking glacially toward the sliver of time when I'd go to Molly's to eat dinner together before heading to whatever practice or game I had to be at.
But we made it to Friday, and tonight, a teacher's league game.
At least she's here with me. That makes it so much easier to bear.
My schedule never bothered me before. I usually welcome being too busy, so busy I don't have time to think about what I don't have.
This afternoon wasn't enough time with her. You have all weekend.
The thought makes me feel fucking invincible. Like nothing can touch us. Like we figured it out, found a way to do this without consequences.
So, so fucking dumb.
The game is nearly over, the sun long gone. Molly's been getting better but has yet to hit a ball in a game. Bless her, she tries. Tonight has been a close game, and now we're in the bottom of the ninth, two points down. Two outs.
Bases loaded.
And Molly's at bat.
My stomach is twisted up with nerves. She's the last chance to win the game.
All she has to do is hit the ball for the first time ever.
In front of half the town. No big deal. The team is yelling and cheering their encouragement, but she's pale, her eyes wide, standing in the on-deck circle like she doesn't want to leave it.
I know how hard she's worked, how much this means to her.
"Hey, peaches," I say as I approach.
She relaxes at the sight of me, almost smiling. "No pressure, right?"
"No pressure. It's like a game of pepper--easy peasy, swinging at whatever comes your way. Don't think. The more you think the worse it gets. Just breathe. Keep your eye on the ball. And do your best. That's it."
"Just do my best," she echoes, adjusting her helmet, her eyes narrowing in determination. The urge to kiss her is so fierce, I clench my fists so I don't touch her. "Eye on the ball."
"Don't think," I add.
"Got it."
"Good. Batter up, babygirl." I wink at her when she meets my eyes, pleased when she flushes and smiles. "Go get 'em, tiger."
With a resolute little nod, she hustles out, steps in the box, and I watch with my heart in my throat. Cass and everybody's cheering. I take a deep breath.
The pitch comes--she swings. Whiffs it, her bat slicing through empty space. But she put a little heat on it, making me smile. I clap, calling, "That's all right--you've got this Molly."
She doesn't look back, just adjusts her helmet and brings the bat back. Her form's good, her stance right. She's just gotta connect.
I hold my breath through the next pitch. It's high, but she swings anyway, too eager. So eager. Misses again.
Everybody's on their feet, either cheering or silently praying she misses.
"Don't think," I remind her. She doesn't look at me, but she nods small.
I watch the pitch arch in slow motion, watch her take a little step forward and swing, twisting at her hips, putting all her strength in it and--
Crack!
The ball sails toward the outfield, dropping just inside the grass and rolling fast. They're all running for it but it's rolling right in the sweet spot--nobody's close, and the first one who gets to it misses a scoop for the ball.
Everyone's screaming like she just hit a grand slam in the World Series, and Molly's jumping up and down on the plate, yelling I did it! I did it!
"Run!" I yell on a peal of laughter.
Her face opens up in surprise when she remembers, and she takes off for first as everybody else runs for home too. Somebody finally has the ball in the outfield and chucks it infield, but nobody catches it.
"Go, go, go!" I'm yelling, swinging my forearm in a circle, waving them all in. Molly is hauling ass, the other runners already in, but the other team is still fumbling with the ball, so she runs and keeps running until she runs across home, scoring the last run and winning the game.
The crowd loses it, and the team rushes her. But she runs straight for me, jumping into my arms with so much force, we spin when I catch her.
Laughing, I kiss her hard. And when she breaks away, she's flushed and shining and bright and perfect.
"I hit it! I fucking hit it!"
"Yeah you fucking did," I say before kissing her again.
Only then do I realize what I've done.
Everyone is staring. Some are cheering. Some are…not. Cass is grinning like an asshole, and Shelby's just shocked, half laughing and eyes bugged.
Fuck.
I set Molly down, and she knows too. But the team mobs her and cheers for her, and it almost feels forgotten when they pick her up and carry her around on their shoulders.
Almost.
I do my best to act normal as we go through the motions.
Line up to slap hands with the other team.
Gather for a brief pep talk from me. Fortunately I've given enough of them that I could pull something out of my ass without having to think.
Because I can't think. They're all staring. I can already hear the whispers.
Everybody knows. Everybody saw. Half the fucking town is here.
Can't take it back.
By the time the team disperses, most everyone is gone. I take my time getting my shit together. Nobody's mentioned the kiss, probably because I look like I'd hit anybody who did.
Molly's still accepting congratulations when Carlin approaches the dugout, smirking a little.
"Look at you, keeping secrets," he jokes.
I know how he feels about her, which is making me real uncomfortable right about now. "Would you believe me if I told you we've never kissed before?"
On a laugh, he says, "Not a chance. She told me earlier."
My gaze snaps to his eyes. "She did, did she?"
He shrugs, looking as unassuming as ever. "Sure. I get you're trying to keep it a secret and all--"
"I don't want to keep it a secret," I note.
"Then why try?"
I let out a hot breath through my nose. "It's complicated."
"Yeah, she said that too. Just … just be careful with her. Treat her like she deserves. Don't take her for granted. Okay?"
If he only knew. "I will." It's a vow, and he knows it, hears it, accepts it with a nod. And then he's got on a smile, his attention shifting behind me as he calls out to Molly. "Hey, you getting a ride home with Coach, Molls?"
She laughs nervously. "I dunno. Am I, Coach?"
I nod.
"Cat's out of the bag," Carlin adds, backing away from the dugout with a teasing look on his face. "Get her home safe, okay? Text me, Mols!"
"Bye, Carlin," she calls, and with a wave, he heads off.
Nobody's left but us and a few stragglers. Nobody in earshot.
"Wow," she breathes, adjusting her baseball cap and packing up her glove "I can't believe I hit it."
"I knew you would."
"Thanks," she says quietly, happily. "Thanks for teaching me."
"Molly."
"Yeah?"
"Everybody saw. They know."
She sobers. "I know."
I rub the back of my neck, shaking my head at the ground. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."
"Don't. Don't apologize for kissing me."
"I'm not sorry I did it. I'm sorry I did it here."
"Why?"
"Because now everybody's going to be in our business."
"So? They already are."
"Whispers, that's all. Now? Now they're gonna talk." I sigh, grabbing my bag, then hers.
Her face falls slightly.
We walk to my truck in silence. When we get to her side, I open the door for her and put our bags in the backseat.
"Do you…do you still want to come over?" she asks tentatively.
I do, more than anything. Can I do it without telling her everything I'm feeling and everything I'm scared of? All the things I'm not ready to say?
But she looks up at me with soft, worried eyes, and there's only one thing I can say.
"Always. Let's go, peaches."
Future Grey can deal with the drama. Tonight, I only want her.
Everything else can wait.