Page 109 of The Fake Out Flex

"Actually, that's not entirely true."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Everyone assumes it's been my only dream in life, to play. And while I do want to make it into the majors, and I think it's my best ticket out of here, there's always been a part of me that's wanted to coach."

"You can always go into coaching when you retire."

"Nah. Don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I'm not like you, Evie. I'm not great at peopling."

"I don't know about that. You seem to people well with me."

We turn our heads at the exact same moment.

Our eyes lock.

A wild thought enters my head.

Will he kiss me?

Almost as quickly as it blew in, it evaporates into thin air when Fraser asks his next question.

"What sort of wedding do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's my turn to ask you a question, and that's what I'm asking." When I don't say anything, he tries to explain with, "Don't all girls dream about their wedding day?"

"Have you asked Dawn about her wedding day?"

"My sister isn't like most girls."

"Neither am I. I haven't given it much thought, in all honesty, but I know I don't want anything big. I'd be perfectly happy with something small and no fuss. Or, I don't know, maybe getting hitched in a chapel in Vegas. Have Elvis or Marilyn officiate."

"Isn't that a bit…tacky?"

"Oh, it's totally tacky. But that's why I love it. Funerals should be serious, but weddings are meant to be fun. Grandma always says that. I'd want everyone to have a great time, and I want to have a great time. When Mom shows me photos of her wedding to Dad—which, by the way, she puts gloves on so her finger oils don't damage the album."

"You're joking."

"I'm deadly serious."

"That's insane."

"That's my mother. Anyway, the photos are gorgeous. It was a grand and beautiful and very expensive affair. But when I look at her eyes, or Dad's eyes, despite them smiling and putting on the appearance of being happy, they just look…tired. I don't want that. I want to be rested and alive and in the moment."

"You should have opened with that."

I giggle. "I was workshopping ideas. What sort of wedding do you want?"

"I don't really care."

I'm about to tease him for giving the most boy answer ever, but before I can, he goes on. "As long as my wife-to-be is there and happy, that's all I care about."

And we've gone from the most boy answer ever to the most perfect answer ever in less than three seconds.

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