Page 85 of Make It Without You

“You’re the first to know.”

“What? You haven’t told Kamryn?”

I sit down on my bed and pet Biscuit. “No. Kam would want me to be all open-hearted with her. And even with James, I was never like that. Do you think she’ll be mad at me?”

“I think she’ll be hurt more than mad.”

“Love after loss,” I snort. “I don’t recommend it.”

Sarah snorts into the phone. “Noted. So when are you going to tell her?”

“Soon.” I declare.

When I get off the phone with Sarah, I pick up my phone again multiple times to text Kamryn. I went out with the group back in April and back then, nothing between Adam and I was as deep as it is now. But I know when I do see Kamryn I’ll have to confess everything.

I wokeup extra early for someone who doesn’t have a child playing a sport. Why these games start at the asscrack of dawn I’ll never know. I made sure to slather on sunscreen as I wasn’tsure of the shade coverage. I’m a huge fan of summer, but a sunburn is where I draw the line. I nixed the idea of wearing a dress and went with shorts and a tank top that I paired with slip-on tennis shoes. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and threw a Phillies hat on top.

Me: Pulling into the complex now.

Adam: We’re parked on the far left side of the lot.

I slow roll through the parking lot until I get to where Adam said he’s parked. I find his truck easily and find a spot close by.

Me: I’m nervous. Now what?

Adam: Now we meet at the entrance and I’ll kiss your nerves away.

Blowing out a breath, I take my keys out of the ignition and snag my phone. My car lock beeping twice does little to calm my nerves.

I follow a small crowd of parents and little baseball players up to the entrance. And when I see Adam there in his own baseball hat he causes my heart to stutter. I could blame the sun for my skin feeling on fire as his gaze trails over my body. He’s seen me in far less and never fails to make it feel like the first time.

“Hi, sunshine,” he greets me when I’m close.

“Hi, handsome,” I greet back. “Seeing you in dad mode really is such a turn-on.” I’m wary of tiny ears so I keep what I tell him PG.

“I’m always in dad mode," he tells me as he reaches out for my hand.

His hand is my lifeline where I feel like a fish out of water. My steps are light as I follow him to a field that’s just about ready to play.

“I like you being in dad mode,” I confess when we get to a set of bleachers. Thankfully it has some shade over it so we won’t bake like cookies.

Adam leads the way up the bleachers and settles us in a row in the middle. I look around and see other parents sitting in lawn chairs with some not-so-subtly glancing our way.

“Still nervous?”

My knee bouncing up and down, a nervous habit since childhood, does little to disguise my nerves. “That obvious?”

His hand rests on my knee and rubs soothing circles. “Soon enough the game will start and their attention will be off of you. I promise.” He emphasizes and presses a kiss to my cheek.

My nerves soon subside as the game starts. Not much of a game considering how young the boys are. There is a tee by home plate that is used when the little ones can’t hit the ball that’s tossed to them. I sense Adam tense when Dylan steps up to the plate. His helmet bobbles as his little legs carry him there.

“Eye on the ball, buddy!” Adam yells from our spot on the bleachers.

Yeah. Totally hot.

I sit quietly as the coach pitches the ball to Dylan. He swings and misses on the first pitch.

“It’s okay Dyl. Get it next time,” Adam coaches from here.

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