Page 51 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

As we continued to chat, I felt a mix of comfort and nervousness. Sitting here with her brought me so much joy,yet I couldn’t shake the flutter of anticipation in my chest. Our conversation has kept me on edge in the best possible way.

***

The crack of the bat echoed through the packed stadium of our biggest rivals, the San Francisco Captains. But my focus wasn’t on the ball sailing into the outfield. It was on Taylor—my Taylor—sitting somewhere in the sea of hostile fans, watching me as more than just the guy next door, but as my girlfriend.

It had been a few weeks since her first visit to LA, and now she was back, this time for our most crucial game of the season. The stakes were high—this game could determine our playoff chances. As I wound up for my pitch, my mind briefly flashed to our conversation on my couch during her last visit, her uncertainty about moving to LA.

My arm followed through, and the ball hit the catcher’s mitt with a loud thud—another strike. The away crowd booed, but somewhere in that noise, I imagined Taylor’s cheer. Between innings, I snuck a glance at my phone to see a text from her:

‘You’re killing it out there! I can’t wait to celebrate with you later. ??’

My heart did a little flip, giving me a fresh surge of energy.

By the time the game ended, we had clinched a narrow victory against the Captains, silencing their home crowd. I felt invincible, but the real challenge was yet to come. As I headed towards the field for the post-game interview, I saw Taylor out of the corner of my eye, standing near the dugout. My heart raced as my hand instinctively went to the pocket where I’d been carrying a small velvet box for weeks.

“Van Willis!” The interviewer called, motioning me over. The cameras were rolling, broadcasting live across the nation. “Whatan incredible game! You’ve just led the Stars to a crucial victory in enemy territory. How does it feel?”

I gave a brief answer about team effort and focusing on the next game, but my mind was elsewhere. When the interviewer asked about my outstanding performance, I saw my opening.

“Actually,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite my pounding heart, “there’s something personal I’ve been planning for a while. Something that’s been my motivation through every game, and every recovery session.”

The interviewer’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Oh? Can you elaborate on that?”

I glanced over to where Taylor stood and motioned for her to come forward. Her eyes widened as she hesitantly stepped onto the field. Sensing something was happening, the hostile crowd fell into a curious hush. The cameras panned to capture Taylor walking toward me, confusion clear on her face.

“Taylor,” I said, my voice carrying across the suddenly quiet stadium. “We’ve been through so much together. From neighbors to friends, from my physical therapist to the love of my life. You’ve been my strength through injury and my joy in victory.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes as I lowered myself onto one knee. The crowd gasped, and I could hear the announcer’s excited voice echoing through the stadium speakers, explaining what was happening to those who couldn’t see.

I pulled out the small velvet box and opened it to reveal the diamond ring I’d chosen weeks ago. “Taylor, you make me want to be the best at everything. I don’t want a future without you in it. Will you marry me?”

The stadium, moments ago filled with rival fans, erupted in a mix of cheers and shocked exclamations. Camera flashes lit up the field like lightning. But all I could see was Taylor, her eyes glistening with tears.

For a heart-stopping moment, she stood frozen. Then, her face broke into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Yes!” she cried, her voice carrying across the field. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, Van!”

I stood up, sliding the ring onto her finger with shaking hands. We kissed, and the stadium—home and away fans alike—exploded in applause. At that moment, there were no rivals, just witnesses to our love.

The interview continued, but it was all a blur after that. My teammates and rival team members congratulated us, and reporters asked about the proposal.

When we finally escaped the media frenzy, I pulled her aside, pressing my forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?” she laughed, still breathless from the excitement.

“For saying yes. For coming all the way here to cheer me on. For just being you.”

She smiled, touching the side of my face gently. “I couldn’t say no to you, Van. I’ve never been able to.”

“I love you, Taylor,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted her chin upwards, capturing her lips with mine. The second our mouths met, everything else faded. It was just her. Her warmth, softness, and how she melted into me like she belonged there.

When the kiss ended, her eyes fluttered open, as she smiled at me. “I love you, too,” she whispered. That killer smile of hers—made me feel like I was invincible.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, my hands sliding down her shoulders. “Come on,” I murmured, pulling her gently, and guiding her toward the exit.

As we walked off the field hand in hand, looking at Taylor, seeing the love and trust in her eyes, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we’d face them together. This proposalwasn’t just the end of a chapter; it was the beginning of our greatest adventure yet.

Epilogue

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