Lowering myself into my stadium chair, I propped my feet up on the built-in cupholder, making sure not to knee the person in front of me in their back.
“I can’t believe how many draft people there are,” Lauren whispered as she looked around, and I laughed because I actually knew what she meant.
“Scouts. They’re called scouts. And I can,” I said before taking my own mental notes, grateful that I hadn’t missed Cole’s first at bat of the game.
You could tell which ones were interested in him by the way they perked up when he stepped into the on-deck circle. They grabbed their notebooks, their pens, their stopwatches, and their cell phones.
“We’re sort of surrounded by them,” Lauren whispered again, and I realized that there was a group of them sitting directly behind us.
When they announced Cole’s name, the crowd exploded. It had always been loud for him, but now that he was hitting like a madman with a bat of fire, things had grown exponentially louder. I added to it, yelling his name as he sauntered toward the plate, a man on a mission that no pitcher could stop.
Before he stepped into the batter’s box, Cole turned around and started scanning the stands.
“Oh Lord, not this again,” Lauren groaned before smacking her hand over her face.
His eyes found mine, and he locked on for a moment before giving me a head nod. I swore I melted on the spot. A few scouts turned to look at me, and my cheeks burned hot with the attention. Thankfully, it didn’t last long before they were refocused on my man at the plate.
I watched as they scribbled furiously in their notepads while simultaneously trying to film him with their phones. It seemed like every scout in the stands was finally paying attention to the only player I’d been paying attention to for years.
It had always been fun, watching Cole play, but this version of Cole was something else entirely. He dominated the batter’s box. His stance looked like a challenge. It was almost like he was daring the pitcher to try to strike him out when we all knew it was never going to happen. Not today, pitcher.
The loud clang of the metal bat hitting the ball rang out, and Cole tossed his bat to the ground as he jogged toward first. And when the ball sailed over the center field fence, he started trotting around the bases in confident strides. Pulling his helmet off his head once he stepped on home plate and met his cheering teammates, he looked up at me again and pointed like he had that one time before.
I flashed back to the memory and smiled.
“He just loves to point that hat thing at you, doesn’t he?” Lauren shook her head, and I didn’t bother correcting her this time.
The scouts behind us were talking loud enough that I could overhear. It took everything in me not to turn around and engage them in conversation, so I did what any good girlfriend—am I Cole’s girlfriend?—would do; I eavesdropped. They were arguing over who was going to talk to Cole first after the game tonight and which team they thought he’d rather play for. I couldn’t help but feel proud. Cole was going to get everything he’d worked so hard for, and no one deserved it more.
When the game ended—we won, by the way—I decided not to wait around. I still wasn’t sure what Cole and I were, and I knew that he had scouts literally lining up to talk to him. He needed to focus on his future.
“We should go,” I said to Lauren, and she balked at me. “Why the face?”
“I just figured you’d stay, like usual. I go home, and Cole brings you there.”
“We aren’t back together.”
“Technicality.”
“Regardless. You heard the guys behind us. And that was just them. Who knows how many other scouts want to talk to him? He needs to handle that first.”
“But you’ll call him tonight, right?” She stomped her foot and narrowed her eyes.
“I promise.” I held out my pinkie, she wrapped hers around it, and we shook.
“Fine. But when Cole asks, I wasn’t a fan of this idea.” She turned and stalked toward the exit, immediately swallowed up by a sea of people as I followed.
I glanced back at the field, but Cole wasn’t anywhere to be found.
We’d only been home for less than ten minutes when our front door opened, and Cole flew through it, still wearing his uniform. I was shocked that Lauren hadn’t locked it behind us like usual.
“What are you doing here?” I asked at the same time Lauren yelled, “How do you always get in?”
He looked at Lauren first and pointed at her. “I have impeccable timing.” Then, he pointed his finger at me. “Why’d you leave?”
“The game was over.”
“But I left you tickets. I asked you to come,” he said, sounding flustered as he stepped closer to me.
“I know. I was going to call you later,” I tried to explain, not understanding what the big deal was. “Wait. Why are you here? I overheard the scouts. They were going to talk to you. Didn’t you see them?”
He laughed. “Of course I saw them.”
“Well, what’d they say?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“You don’t know?” I shouted.
“I left.”
“What do you mean, you left?” I started freaking out because this was the one thing that Cole had always wanted. I’d known it since the first day I met him.
Cole Anders was baseball. This was his dream, his goal, his whole world.
“Why would you do that? You’ve been working for this your whole life! Oh my God, go back. Go back there right now.”
“Christina,” he said my name so sweetly that I knew he wanted me to calm down, but how could I be calm when he was telling me something like this? “I asked them to wait.”
“You asked Major League Baseball scouts to wait?” I repeated the idea like it was the most insane thing I’d ever heard in my whole entire life.
He gave me a smirk and a nod. “I told them to pretend that I was taking a shower. A really long shower. And that I’d be right back.”
“Cole!” I shouted again, but he only laughed. “Get out of this house right now and go away.” I swatted his back and tried to shove at his large body, but it refused to budge. Stupid, strong shoulders.
“No,” he said, and I heard Lauren giggling. I’d almost forgotten she was there.
“This is your dream,” I started to say, but he closed the space between us and pulled me against him, leaving the rest of the words to die in my throat.
“But you’re my dream too,” he said.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders like I couldn’t pull him close enough. Our bodies talked in silence, spilling apologies and hope and all the things we needed to say to each other but hadn’t yet.
Cole broke the hug, moving barely an inch away before those blue eyes looked right into mine. He tipped my chin up with his hand. “I could have baseball, and I would still be missing something if I didn’t have you by my side. I need you both in my life. But I need you more,” he said before leaning down to kiss me.
There was no hesitation, no pulling back, and no games. I wouldn’t pretend like this wasn’t the outcome I had always wanted. That, when our story ended, I’d be the one by his side. So, when he moved to kiss me, I didn’t only allow it; I also threw myself into it, making sure he knew that I was still his. And I always would be.