“You got this, Maclain,” Kellan said. “Just remember, their best hitter is only as good as your weakest fastball.”
I knew what Maclain was thinking. That was Lopez’s specialty.
But then a little nudge of encouragement came from Vickers, of all people. “Don’t sell yourself short. Your fastball is killer too.”
“Thanks,” Maclain mumbled, his cheeks darkening. But I didn’t think he was any more convinced that he could pull it off. It was that whole disappointing-other-people thing that was plaguing him again, and I wished I could make him see just how talented he really was. But he had to find it in himself this time.
We jogged onto the field in silence, thick tension swirling around us because we could still blow this lead and not only from the pitching. Any one of us could drop a ball or let one get by us. It would take a united front to keep them from scoring.
When Maclain let the first batter walk, I told him to shake it off. Normally he would’ve had some snarky shit to throw back, but not this time. He stayed completely focused as he got in position on the mound and stared me down. Their best hitter was in the box, and Maclain nodded, knowing he needed to throw him consecutive fastballs with maybe a slider in for good measure.
And that was what he did, and he did it well. When Maclain struck him out, the stands went wild, clapping and chanting for the Pirates. Jasmine and Gemma were loudest with their cheers for our star pitcher, and I could see the emotion in Maclain’s eyes.
But he stayed in the moment, shutting out the final two batters, and not only did the crowd go ballistic, but the team as well. The game was over, and we had pulled it off with the best record in team history. The outfielders were hugging, the players in the dugout were rushing onto the field to celebrate the moment, but I only had eyes for Maclain.
I threw off my face mask and stood up on aching legs, fist-pumping the air along with the coaches and our teammates.
Maclain had the largest, sweetest grin on his face, and fuck if the butterflies in my stomach didn’t start furiously flapping their wings like they were rejoicing with us.
When Maclain began jogging toward me, I nearly lost my step. We met on home plate, where he dragged me into a tight hug. I reveled in the feel of his arms around me again in case it was the last time. I shut my eyes and took in his scent and the hum of his laughter against my skin.
Just as I thought we’d probably hugged for longer than necessary, he pulled me in tighter and buried his face in my shoulder.
“Mason?” I said against his neck.
“Can’t let go,” he choked out.
I melted into his frame. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head. “I don’t wanna let you go.”
My heart rose to my throat. “I don’t want you to let go either.”
After another long beat, his mouth found my ear. “I’m in love with you.”
My body tingled from head to toe. “I’m in love with you too.”
The entire world disappeared in that moment—the shouting, the players jumping on each other’s backs and messing around—until it was just the two of us holding each other and confessing our feelings.
“So what do we do about it?” Maclain murmured into my skin.
“What’d ya wanna do?”
His fingers dug into my shoulders. “I want to be with you so fucking much.”
“I want to be with you too,” I replied in a hoarse voice.
“I’m still scared, but I’m more afraid of losing you.”
“Then let’s take it one day at a time.”
“Just you and me figuring it out?” he asked, so earnestly, it made my chest ache.
“Sounds perfect.”
And then the world came rushing back in as the team surrounded us in a tightening circle, and still Maclain wouldn’t let go.
“Are you guys okay?” Donovan asked in a hesitant tone.
“I’m perfect,” Maclain said, and I chuckled, and in another instant we were both grinning like damned fools, as if we could finally celebrate properly because if nothing else, at least we had each other.
When I reached for his hand, he tangled our fingers together, which only caused another stir from our teammates.
“Well, fuck, there’s something in the water, isn’t there?” Devers said.
“Somehow, I had a feeling these two were gonna bat for the other team,” Fischer said.
“Good one.” Sinclair smirked.
I could feel Coach’s eyes on us from behind Vickers, who looked just as confused as some of the newer players who hadn’t been privy to Donovan and Kellan’s unfolding drama last season. Though they’d heard plenty of stories.
“Suppose I should blame Kellan for this?” Coach asked, and my cheeks heated as our gazes clashed.
“Or thank him?” Maclain replied, his flush even deeper than mine.
“The statistical probability of these two falling for each other was high,” Kellan teased. “I’m apparently the ultimate matchmaker.”
“Devers could definitely use some help,” Fischer said, and everyone snickered.
“Okay, get your butts to the locker room, Pirates,” Coach said, trying to move us all along. Our display had lasted so long that the other team and half of the stands had already cleared the field.
But the people who cared about us most hadn’t, remaining in their seats, watching and waiting for us. As we moved toward the locker room, arms thrown over shoulders, smiling, teasing, and some already reliving the game-winning moments, I glanced up at the stands and met my mom’s watery eyes. She threw us both air kisses, and I heard Maclain make a heartening sound.
We lagged behind the rest of the team and took a quiet moment alone in the hallway of the clubhouse. I noticed that Maclain already seemed different, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He seemed surer of himself, and I couldn’t help dragging him in for a hungry kiss. It felt like it’d been too long.
When our lips met, I sighed, feeling as contented as I’d ever been.
“Does this mean I can officially make pitcher-and-catcher jokes?” Kellan teased as he passed by us, heading toward the field again.
“Devers might have you beat,” I replied.
“Right?” Maclain said with an eye roll.
Kellan made a lot of noise as he dragged the equipment in from the dugout, as if to alert us of his presence each time. We really needed to get inside, but we were taking our time, just…relishing the moment and each other.
“By the way, Maclain,” Kellan said on his final pass. “It looks good on you.”
“What does?”
Kellan motioned over his shoulder. “Happiness.”
I brushed my fingers along his jaw. “He’s right, you know.”
Stripes of pink seared his cheeks, and when he gave me one of those heart-melting grins, I knew we’d make this work as long as we were together.
Just like this.
He reached for my hand, entwined our fingers, and we joined our team in the celebration.
Epilogue
One year later
Maclain
* * *
“Ah fuck, Mase. I’m getting hard again,” Dominic murmured against my shoulder, and when his wrist inadvertently brushed against the tip of my shaft, my groin began stirring.