How can I not when he pours his heart out to me, honestly laced in every single word he speaks? I feel it; I feel it way more than I want to.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I do.”
A sigh of relief blows past his lips and he sits a little taller. “Thank you.” He squeezes my hands and then lets go. Reaching to his back pocket, he pulls out four tickets to the Bobbies season opener and hands them to me. “They aren’t super amazing seats, but they are the tickets the team gave me so my family can watch my first game as a starter in the lineup. Don’t feel obligated to attend, but they’re yours if you want them.” I take them and stare at the picture of him mid-swing that’s printed on the tickets. Softly he says, “I love you, Milly, more than I can ever explain. I know I didn’t show it the last few years, but I do love you, and I know deep down that you truly are my soul mate.” He stands from the bench and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Think about it. No pressure, but I hope you can make it and consider what I said, because I want nothing more than to show you how much I do love you, how much I want to date you, take you out, listen to you school me all over again about the intricacies of the sport we both love.”
With a gentle smile, he takes off toward his car. I stare at the tickets and consider the value these pieces of paper hold. Not the monetary value, but the sentimental value.
Meant for his family. He has none but considers me the closest thing to it, and that means more to me than any other apology he could muster. Because even though he’s caused me great pain, I know to the depths of my being he truly never stopped loving me.
It’s obvious from the way he looks at me, the way his chest rises and falls more rapidly when I’m around, the sincerity in his voice, the sparkle in his eyes . . . the certainty he displays when he talks about my coaching abilities.
And if I’m going to be honest with myself, I never stopped loving him either and I never will. He’s it for me. The only love I ever want in my life.
He’s my man, and I can’t let him walk away without knowing that.
“Carson,” I say, my voice cracking as I spin and run after him. He’s halfway to his car when he turns around and catches me in my leap to his chest. His hands fall under my butt, hoisting me up as I circle my arms around his neck. “I . . . I love you too.”
His shock turns to joy right before I grip his cheeks and press my mouth against his for the most epic kiss of my lifetime. Desire and relief flood our movements as our lips seek each other out, twisting and turning, gliding with such demanding pressure that he falls back on the hill and I straddle his body, pinning him to the ground. His hands travel up my body, under my shirt and to the nape of my neck where he grips tighter.
With each pass of his lips and stroke of his tongue, I feel his relief, his gratefulness, his love, and in this moment, I realize this is the man I’m going to marry. This is the man I want to go through life with, riding the ups and the downs but never giving up on each other.
“Fuck,” he whispers against my lips and then pulls me into a hug, squeezing me so tight that I almost can’t breathe. “I love you so goddamn much,” he says, his voice full of emotion. “I’m sorry, Milly. I promise never to put your heart through that kind of pain again. I promise to always strive to make you happy. And I promise there will never be a day again when I don’t talk to you, where I don’t tell you how much you mean to me.”
I kiss his cheek, then his forehead, then his jaw, and finish on his lips. “All I want from you . . . is you, Carson. I want the good, the bad, and the horrible. I want every piece of you, and the only promise I want you to make to me is to handle my heart with the greatest of care, because you’re the only one it belongs to.”
He strokes my cheek softly and brings his lips to mine where he presses a whisper of a kiss across my mouth, so gentle and so delicate. “You have my word . . . Coach.”
Smiling, I tackle him to the ground again and next to the field where we developed our relationship, I solidify my future with the man of my dreams.
Epilogue
MILLY
“Are you ever going to stop crying?” Shane asks next to me, mouth full of popcorn.
I shake my head, tears still streaming down my face as I watch Carson take the Bobcats field, looking handsome as ever in his tailored uniform. “I’m just so happy for him.”
Jerry sips his beer and wipes his eyes. “I have to admit, I’m getting emotional as well. The dude has had a rough life, but look at him now. Fucking starting second baseman for the Bobbies.” Shouting and pointing at Carson—even though he can’t hear Jerry—he says, “You’re my hero, Carson Stone. That’s our boy.”
“Can you not be that person,” I say to Jerry just as a correspondent for the Bobbies comes up to me with a cameraman.
“Milly Potter?”
I smile kindly, prepared for this moment. After Carson and I made out at the park for what felt like hours, we went back to my place and had slow, all-consuming, toe-curling sex. The best I’ve ever had. That was until the second round . . . and then the third. Basically, every spare moment we’ve had together we’ve been naked. But between catching our breath, Carson walked me through the opening ceremonies and what will happen during the broadcast of the game. He warned me that they were going to come talk to me and asked if that was okay. I told him I’d be honored to represent his family. After that, he spent the rest of the night worshipping my body and I must admit, I missed his heart, his mind, his jokes, and teasing . . . but boy, I didn’t realize how much I missed his tongue until a few days ago.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Taylor Hutchinson.” I know exactly who she is. She’s the on-field correspondent for the Bobbies, the girl who gets to interview the boys after the game, one of the best jobs ever. But instead of fangirling the poor lady, I play it cool and shake her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“We’re just going to ask you a few questions about Carson if that’s okay. It will be live, so please make sure not to swear.”
Shane leans in and says, “That means you can’t say fuck.”
With my palm, I push him away and mutter, “Thanks.”
Sitting tall, I smile at the camera as Taylor gives us a countdown and then turns on her camera face. “Yes, I’m here with Milly Potter. Some might know her as the girl who’s changing swings around Chicago over at D1 Athletics, others might know her as Cory Potter’s sister, but here, we know her as the girl behind Carson Stone. As he has told us many times, she’s the girl behind his swing, and the one who owns his heart.” Taylor clutches her chest and turns the mic to me. “Milly, tell us how you met Carson.”
Smiling, I say, “Well, it all started in a panini line . . .”
“Ahhhhh,” Shane and Jerry scream at the same time as Carson approaches us, freshly showered and walking with some pep in his step from starting the season off with a solid win. “Our hero.”
Shane and Jerry both run up to Carson who wraps them in a bear hug. Jerry nuzzles Carson’s chest, while Shane pats Carson’s ass. It’s an obscene sight to behold, three grown man mauling each other, but I smile as I lean against the tunnel wall that leads to the locker room and admire some of the most important men in my life.