Page 103 of Passed Ball

"Yes." That infatuation I was so sure I wouldn't develop is creeping in and I'm not ready to deal with the fall out from that. If I'm being honest, I think it's been building toward more from the start, but the last two weeks have shifted things between us. This isn't about the list or even being friends anymore. Somehow, as we've gotten to know each other, it became deeper than that. There's an emotional connection there that makes everything better.

Maybe if we'd fucked it out that first night things wouldn't have ended up here.

I have to press my hand to my mouth to stop the laughter that attempts to spill free. Now that I know what it's like to have Xavier inside me that idea is delusional at best. I'd just have been hooked sooner.

"We'll be here when you're ready to talk it out," Indie says, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into the game unfolding a few feet away.

Another thing that's become glaringly clear in the last five weeks is that the friendship I've built with this group of Bandits' WAGs is healing my soul in a way I didn't know I needed.

There's an unspoken understanding among us--like we've all been through the fire in our own ways and come out stronger for it. We show up for each other in the little ways that matter most: a cold drink passed across the stands, a gentle coaxing not to lock myself away, a group chat that's half memes and half support.

I didn't realize how much I was missing that kind of connection until I had it again. These women see me--reallysee me--and piece by piece, they're reminding me who I want to be as much as Xavier is.

Will I lose all that when I lose him? The thought hits me hard and it's almost too much to bear.

"I don't like that look on your face," Poppy says, her knee bumping against mine. "You look like your world is crashing down around you."

I force myself to sound nonchalant. "It's nothing. Pesky self-doubt."

The look she gives me tells me she doesn't buy it. "Well, knock it the fuck off. You're incredible, don't doubt that for a second."

"That was really cheesy."

"Cheesy but true." She holds up her half empty beer to me, knocking it against mine.

"Thanks for that. You're a good friend." I might not be ready to telleveryonehow I feel, but those words come so natural I can't hold them back.

"Damn right I am, and you deserve good friends, Vi," she quips, taking a sip and nudging me again. "Just like you deserve a good man."

The man in question steps up to the plate for his at bat. I might deserve good things, but am I ready for them? That's the part I'm not so sure about. And if having them means giving up the pieces of myself I worked so hard to find over the past decade will it be worth it?

The worry is still lingering nine innings later as I'm waiting beside my friends for the guys after the game.

"Whatever you're feeling right now, don't let it ruin the good things in your life," Indie warns when she slides up next to me, popping her hip against the cement wall.

"God, I must be as transparent as a window," I mutter, shaking my head.

Indie snorts, not bothering to hide her amusement. "More like a glass door, babe. Everyone can see right through, but we're still knocking to make sure."

I roll my eyes, but I can't stop the grin tugging at my lips. "Great. Exactly what I needed."

"Hey," she says, her voice softening as she leans in, "being transparent isn't a bad thing. It means we care enough to notice when something's off. And, spoiler alert, you're allowed to have doubts--lord knows I did. But you don't have to carry it alone anymore."

"It's not exactly the same. From what I hear, Dom was obsessed with you long before you gave him a second chance."

"Our stories might be different, but Xavier looks at you the same way my husband looks at me. He only sees you and that says something." She sighs. "I'm not going to tell you not to hurt him, because I know you don't want that either. But don't forget that you have the power to. Be honest with him and yourself about what's in your heart"

Be honest.Such simple advice if I could make sense of it all. But my feelings for the man pushing through the door are all jumbled--messy and tangled with the expectations I've held for myself since I turned eighteen. They're knots I don't know how to untie, threads of fear and hope so tightly wound together that I can't pull one free without the threat of everything I've worked for unraveling.

And yet, when his gaze finds mine, something clicks into place. Part of me whispers that maybe I don't have to figure it all out right now. Being honest doesn't mean having every answer--only the courage to admit how I feel, even if I don't understand it.

But God, eventhatseems impossible.

Chapter 44

Xavier

The usual crowd waits outside the locker room. Kids with their dad's jersey, wives and girlfriends exchanging hugs as players join them, but none of it registers. All I see is her.

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