Page 144 of Passed Ball

When he finally pulls back, his emotion is pouring off him and he looks as if he might break. My heart clenches with the overwhelming need to be the one who holds him together.

"That was . . ." His voice falters, his expression raw, and I brush my fingers against his cheek.

"I'll never forget the way tonight felt," I whisper, the words coming out on a sigh. Then, without hesitation, I add, "I love you," because it feels good to say it. The rest of the night is more of the same.

We take our time with each other, our love spilling over each time we come together before we drift off for a while. Sometime around sunrise, we shower, soaking up the last few minutes before Holland wakes up and we have to leave this bubble.

Chapter 65

Xavier

I have a non-alcoholic beer in one hand and Vivienne in the other, her fingers laced tightly with mine and draped over her shoulder. Below us, a sea of people stretches across the streets as we ride atop an open-air bus, the celebration rowdy as we parade through downtown Denver. My teammates surround us, cheering, laughing, holding the moment high like the banners and signs that line the street.

World fucking champs.

And I feel every bit the champion that the commissioner's trophy says I am, but it's got nothing to do with baseball. No, it's her that makes me feel like I've conquered the world--the woman at my side. This victory, this life, is complete because of her.

One little thing is still bugging me: the bag at the end of my bed. She packed the afternoon after we won so she could stay the night and she's been living out of it for the last three days.

The bus rounds the corner and the Bandits stadium comes into view. The crowd is thicker here with families that have driven out from the suburbs to catch a glimpse of the team before we disappear inside the stadium. Parents hold children high on their shoulders for a closer look. We wave and smile and soak it all in before stepping off the bus and up to the barricaded area, where we stop to sign a few autographs.

Vivienne waits for me off to the side with our friends and I glance back at her, catching a breathtaking smile on her face. I take one last ball from a little girl with red hair and a gap tooth smile that can't be more than eight or nine.

I hand the ball back and jog over to Vivienne, sweeping her up in my arms and carrying her into the stadium.

When we step out onto the grass minutes later, confetti rains down around us. It's a lot like it was after the game, except I'm settled--more at peace. I pull her to the side to escape the fray of the celebration for a moment just the two of us.

"I love you so fucking much." My voice cracks. "After all this time, you've given me back what's been missing most of my life, a family. Me, you, Holland, that's all I need. And I don't want to go weeks without seeing you ever again. That bag on the floor isn't cutting it. I've only got one, maybe two years of baseball left, but that's too long to wait. Move in with us. Wake up with us every day. Be the family we choose."

"Seriously?" she asks, her eyes searching mine.

I'm sure her head is spinning because I've caught her off guard, but it feels right.

"You're it for me, so, yeah, I want you there with me and Holland."

She makes the happiest sound, her laughter spilling out as she squeals, "Yes!"

When she presses up on her toes, I lift her, sealing it with a kiss. "Thank god. I was nervous you'd think it was too fast or too much. I didn't want to push, but I want--"

"I want it too. All of it. The ring on my finger, siblings for Holland. Someday I want her to be mine, too."

"She already is. Just as much as I am." Legally, there will be paperwork and a hearing. The state of Colorado makes everything complicated, but the day she becomes my wife, she'll officially be Holland's mother. I'll make sure of it.

Until then, she's ours in every way that counts.

Epilogue

Vivienne

One Year Later

Retirement looks good on Xavier.

Like, really good.

His red hair is styled in that intentionally messy way that always makes him look playful and sexy. The beard he was growing for luck during the postseason has been traded in for a five o'clock shadow that still makes my knees weak. And that body that's holding me close as he spins me around the dance floor is covered in the finest Italian silk money can buy.

Dean Harrison might have given up his inheritance, but he's still a rich boy from Boston and he's spared no expense to marry the love of his life. It's the pick-me-up we all need after the Bandits were eliminated in the League Championship series. There's no parade or trophy this year, but seeing all our friends together and celebrating Dean and Mia's wedding is its own sweet victory.

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