Page 140 of Passed Ball

"Strike." The bellow comes from behind me and I stand, throwing the ball back to Tyson and hold up two fingers for the stadium to see.

"Two more," I say to myself as the next batter takes his spot. He's a contact hitter, not a power hitter. We can take more risks with him, so I signal a fastball outside. The contact is weak and pops high, easily caught by Hendrix.

"One more to go!" I shout at Tyson, the sound getting lost in the deafening crowd noise. Taking another ball from the ump, I throw it to him and he nods, understanding even though there was no way he heard me.

I don't dare look at the stands where I know security is already waiting to get the girls on to the field. My focus stays on Tyson, knowing that I need to finish this so I can get to Vivienne and Holland.

The real test steps up to the plate. Anton Jones is consistent and powerful, but Tyson is the best closer in the league and one of the reasons we've made it this far. He shakes off my first call so I give him what he wants, a fastball.

Bending low at the waist, he checks the bases, glancing over his shoulder before rising and throwing a fastball outside for Jones to chase. And he does.

"Shit," he grits out.

I try to hold my smile because I'm not a total asshole. Two fingers pointing down and Tyson gives me what I want this time: a curveball that fools Anton into making the same mistake twice. One more pitch is all we need and I know what my pitcher is going to want: a fastball. Like the pro he is, he throws it high, tricking the batter into thinking it's another curve and checking his swing.

The split second it takes for the ump to say what I know is coming seems to drag on for minutes before I hear the five letters that set the whole stadium on fire.

"S-T-R-I-K-E!"

Chapter 63

Xavier

World fucking champions!

Adrenaline surges through me as I drag myself out of the dog pile, grinning like a fool. The weight of the long season lifts in a single breath, replaced by unfiltered joy. My teammates are shouting, laughing, and slapping each other on the back, but my focus has already shifted. I'll celebrate with them later--pop the champagne, hoist the trophy, all of it--but right now, there are only two people I need to see.

Vivienne and Holland.

I scan the field, heart racing for a completely different reason. My eyes lock with them and I break out in a sprint, not stopping until they are both in my arms. Vivienne looks up at me, her irises sparkling with pride. I take Holland from her, and Vivi's hands lift to my face.

"You did it." She beams, her smile impossibly wide.

"And you're here," I breathe, my voice thick with more than just victory.

"Here," she says, her hands lifting to cradle my face. "And I'm not leaving. Not now. Not ever."

Holland coos softly, her tiny hand brushing against my jaw. For the first time since Vivi left for California, everything is exactly as it should.

"I think I like the sound of that," I murmur, my grip on both of them tightening a little.

"Good, because I see you, Xavier," she says, her voice steady but full of emotion. "The three of us together is what I want. It was always what I wanted. Watching Kristy walk in and threaten that . . . it put everything into perspective."

Her gaze drops for a moment before she looks back at me, her lashes glistening. "Before you, I was afraid of losing myself. Afraid of giving my life over to someone else."

"I'd never let that happen," I say, my throat tight.

"I know," she says with a small smile. "Maybe, with someone else, I would have slipped back into old habits and lost pieces of myself, but you and Holland have only evergivento me. You've never taken anything away."

Her hand shakes as it brushes my cheek. "Meeting you, going home, facing everything with my parents and then Tenley leaving showed me that life is better when you let people in. You've given me more than I thought I could ever have. Understanding, acceptance, patience, friendship. Getting to know you and Holland taught me to ask for what I want in life, instead of fearing what I might lose if I spoke up. "

"You did that. You found your voice on your own," I say hovering above her lips. Not kissing her is testing my restraint.

"Maybe," she says, her gaze locking with mine. "But you made me brave enough to use it."

I exhale, the weight of her words settling over my heart. "You've always been brave, Vivienne."

"In some ways, but not in the ways that mattered. Putting rowdy baseball players in their place at work is very different from the bravery it took to open up my heart after all these years," she whispers, a tear slipping free, though her smile is radiant.

---