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“But I do want to know you.” The words burst out of me like a punch. “I want to be in your life, and for you to be in mine.” He lurches forward, pulling me into a kiss. As his lips press against mine, my brain short-circuits, but once it’s up and running again, I can’t help but kiss him back. After a long moment, my chest burns for air. I break off, gasping. “But this isn’t what you wanted.” “I want to know you, whatever form that takes.” “If we go back to the way things were before—” “Yes,” he murmurs roughly. “Yes, fuck, that’s fine. Just stop shutting me out. And stay here. It’s better than
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“It’s okay to admit you want to.” “Whose side are you on?” “Love.” I roll my eyes. “You can’t work all the time.”
“She’s part of my life.” I want to smile at my own words, but I manage to rein it in. Weeks of rain and gloom, and now the sun is back in my life. It might not be exactly how I want it, but it’s enough. If Hunter doesn’t understand, I can’t make him. “She’d be in it either way, and I like this better.”
For half a beat, we just smile at each other. I feel, absurdly, like some housewife in an old movie. Hello, honey. “Seb—” He presses me against the front door, using the force to shut it, and kisses the breath out of me. He tastes of lip balm and sweat. The evening air still clings to his skin, slightly cool and fresh. He works my hair out of its bun, tugging on a fistful as he nips my bottom lip.
“Mia,” he repeats, an amused note in his voice. “You can’t greet me looking like this and not expect consequences.” He sets me on my feet in front of his bedroom door. I gesture down at myself. “You have eyes, right? Should we go get them checked?” “You’re always beautiful,” he says.
I nearly whine again at the loss of his warmth. “I hate you.” My heart pounds with the lie. I’m the furthest thing from hate, or dislike, or even indifference. I haven’t been indifferent to Sebastian since the moment we met outside the movie theater. He settles back with a bag in hand. “Such a little liar.”
It’s enough. It has to be enough.
What did you imagine when you pushed me away? I want to ask. I don’t. Not now, not in this perfect moment. Not when I’ve decided that this is more than enough for me. I might be failing at keeping my head down with baseball, but I can white-knuckle through this.
“So sometimes I just . . . dream of it again. I’m trapped in the back seat, and people I love die in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do but watch.” I bite the inside of my cheek, staring at the hazy outline of our evening together: the empty tray that we’d eaten the pasta from, my beer bottle and her bourbon glass. My laptop, decorated with an OBX sticker, on my nightstand next to the Anthony Bourdain memoir I’m reading. After the mess with the photographer earlier, my evening ended up being perfect—because any time spent with Mia is perfect—but that didn’t matter once I fell asleep.
Ever since we started hooking up again, I’ve tried to hold back just enough to prevent a slide into feelings I don’t want to have to shut down later, but in that moment? I would have given her anything in the world. I would have gotten on my knees and begged for her love. I’ve pretended that what we have is enough, but it isn’t. It’s never been casual for me, not for a moment.
Even though she’s down in the Hudson Valley and I’m all the way up in Albany, it feels like there’s a golden string between us, shining in the dark. I wonder if it only glows for me, or if she can feel it too. I can’t be the only one. Whatever makes her hold back so much, it’s not for lack of feeling. If she would just let me in, I’d know how to help her.
“I’m looking at it too.” There’s a rustling sound on her end of the line. “I miss you.”
“Always for you, Mia Angel.” His voice might be teasing, but his eyes betray a deeper seriousness. “Even if you refuse to just tell—” The front door opens. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Oh, come on,” I hear Cooper say. “Not again.”
I’m sure she’s going to have no problem working her life around his career, just like Sebastian’s mother did for his father. She’s even luckier that she’s a writer. She can bring her future career anywhere. If Sebastian and I tried to make a relationship work while he was playing baseball and I was in a graduate program, we’d never see each other. Forget pining over him during a three-day jaunt to Albany. I’d be alone and guilty, instead of just alone.
“Did I do something to fuck it up?” He presses close enough I can feel the warmth of his body. “Did I hurt you?” I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak for a moment. “No,” I whisper. “I was . . . fuck. I was falling for you.” His shoulders sag. He nearly smiles. My heart leaps traitorously at the sight. “I knew it.” “It was terrifying.” I try to swallow, but that just makes me want to sob. “It’s still terrifying. I thought maybe if you just moved on, it would be better—for you and for me.” “I don’t want to move on.” He takes my hand, squeezing my fingers. His touch sends delicious
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“I can’t do it.” My voice breaks. “I don’t know how.” “Try,” he murmurs. “I’ve never tried before either, and I’m scared out of my mind, but I want to try it with you. Only with you. Say you’ll try it with me too.” I squeeze his hand back. “What if it doesn’t last? What if—” He starts shaking his head before I finish the sentence. “No what-ifs. Don’t think about the future. Think about now.”
“You’re mine,” he whispers. It feels so right, tears well in my eyes again. When one escapes, he licks it away, claiming me in yet another way. It’s filthy, and it makes me grin. “Yours,” I whisper back. “Show me, Sebastian.”
“Point your feet,” I call. “You point your feet,” he grumbles. I cup my ear. “What was that?” “Damn,” Cooper says. “Mia di Angelo, secret cutthroat bowler.”
God, Mia, I can’t handle how beautiful you are.”
“So fucking perfect, angel. You’re everything. Fucking everything.”
Angel— Aren’t you glad we became friends? Love, S P.S. Thank you.
He blows me a kiss as he jogs backward. “Gonna have to keep from staring at you in between pitches, Mia Angel!” “Ugh,” Izzy says. “That is so cute I’m going to throw up.” “Please don’t,” Cooper says, alarm in his tone. “I can’t do a repeat of the last time you barfed on me.”
On her way home, I run over to meet her. We collide at the plate, landing in a heap of laughter and dirt. She’s on top of me, and her hair is in my face, and her eyes are as bright as the stars overhead. I loop my arms over her back, hugging her close, urging her to give me all her weight.
I have a future, but not in baseball. Even though I loved tonight’s game—even though I love playing every game—my father’s legacy belongs to him. My life can’t be an imitation of his just because it was what he wanted for me before he died. I have to make my own future, even if it means giving up the sport I’ve revolved my life around for as long as I can remember. And that’s fucking terrifying.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just thinking about how much I admire you.” Of all the things I was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. “Seriously?” “You’re incredible,” he says. “Your ambition is . . . it’s everything. It’s fucking sexy, Mia.” I shake my head, laughing slightly. “Sebastian.” “What? It’s just the truth.” His hand skitters down my spine. “I’m a lucky man.”
He bursts into startled laughter. “I love you.” My heart starts to beat so fast I’m afraid it’s going to run away. “So that’s what the note meant.” “What—oh, the note on the jersey.” He grips the back of my neck, kneading his thumb against the top of my spine. “Yeah, Mia Angel. I love you.”
I used to study the stars and imagine planets with knife-sharp mountains. Boiling oceans. Metal rain. Now, I think of something different. Rolling hills. A gem of a lake. A rainforest, thick with life, as green as the eyes of the man looking down at me like I’m the very center of the universe. Part of me always wished I could escape to one of those worlds, but I don’t want that anymore. I belong right here, with him, and that is more beautiful than anything I could ever dream up while gazing into a telescope. It’s strange. It’s terrifying. It’s beautiful. “I love you,” I whisper.
I need to brush up on my baking skills. Maybe I should bring a dessert to Mia’s family’s barbecue tomorrow. On second thought, poisoning my hopefully future in-laws would not be a smart move.
“The Doritos are acceptable.” She walks to the refrigerated section. “The soda pick is what will make you or break you, Seb. You’re already on thin ice with the Raisinets, so choose wisely.” “Oh, it’s Dr. Pepper. No contest.” Her mouth drops open. “Can I revoke our relationship on the basis of irreconcilable differences?” I reach around her to add a bottle of Dr. Pepper to the basket. “No take backs. That’s not how it works.”
“Brat,” I murmur. “You said you love me. I heard it.”
“I catalog your smiles, you know.” “What?” I didn’t mean for that to slip out, but fuck it. We’re rolling with it. “Whether it’s a real smile or one you’re putting on. If it’s a smile to try and shut me up, or an invitation, or genuine happiness.”
“If you want to leave early, just say something about Philly cheesesteaks,” Penny says. She smooths down the front of her sundress, balancing on the curb. At Cooper’s look, she adds, “What? Your brother lives in Philly. I thought that made complete sense.” “I love you,” Cooper says, sounding both fond and exasperated.
“Believe me, I wanted to punch them,” I say. “I just figured it wouldn’t be a good look for my first meeting with my future in-laws.” Bex clasps her hands together. “It’s that serious?” “I sure as hell hope so,” I say, scrubbing my hand through my hair. “I love her.”
“She still might come around.” “I don’t think so.” I fiddle with the medallion, looking down at it instead of into my brother’s eyes. “I had a chance, and I blew it.” “She’s scared. That might not last forever.” “I love her.” “I know,” he says softly. “I thought . . . she loved me too. I thought we were forever.” I laugh. It’s a lonely, hollow sound. “I thought she’d be by my side for this.”
Even if it’s a future that doesn’t include Mia, it’s still the one I want. I’d rather a cramped kitchen than the vast expanse of left field. A chance to make my own name on my own terms, instead of worrying about living up to someone else’s reputation.
“Danielle would be so excited,” she says. “She loved cooking so much.” “She did,” he says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “Remember the time Jake surprised her with that gigantic turkey for Thanksgiving?” She laughs. “She was so worried it wouldn’t thaw in time.” “Best damn turkey I ever had.” He swipes at his eyes. “Oh, Sebastian. There’s so much of them in you.”
“What he wanted was for you to be happy,” Sandra says. “And that’s what we want for you too.” “They’d be so proud of you.” I meet him halfway as he pulls me into a hug. His embrace is tight, reassuring, and I allow myself a moment to just breathe, my face squished against his neck. “Jake would be so goddamn proud of you. You’ve become such a wonderful young man.”
“What about you?” I whisper. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be . . . as much of a Callahan as the rest of you, I guess. I didn’t want to lose this family.” “You’re my son,” he says. He pulls back, so we can look each other in the eye, his voice as serious as I’ve ever heard it. “You’re my son regardless of what you do with your life.”
“You don’t need baseball to have our love,” Sandra says. A tear slips down her cheek as she smiles. “You’re Jake and Danielle’s, but you’re ours too.”
They’re my family. I’m a Callahan. I’m my father and mother’s son, but I am Richard and Sandra’s as well. I look at my family—my family—and feel so much love I can almost forget there’s someone missing. Mia slipped through my fingers like a damned daydream, but this is forever. “Thank you, Mom and Dad.”
I’m quiet for a moment, considering her words. I told Mia once that what I deserve is what I want, and I still believe that. Part of her has always felt that she’s not enough for me, and I’d be better off with some hypothetical woman who can give me more than her. More career support, or kids, or whatever she thinks I’m expecting, without question or compromise, from my partner. That’s bullshit. She’s more than enough for me—she’s everything and more—but Izzy’s right. Kids or no kids, marriage or no marriage, her family be damned, she’s it for me. She needs evidence, otherwise she’ll just keep
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He called us family. I was too scared to let myself have it, but that’s what we are. Family. “I have to see him,” I whisper as I pull away. Mom gets what I mean immediately. “I was hoping you’d say that. Men like him don’t come around that often, you know.”
“Mom,” I say, “this doesn’t change me. Not my sexuality, or how I feel about marriage and kids. And I need you to listen to that. Really listen, this time.” Her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “I’m listening.” “I don’t know for sure what the future is going to look like. But I know how I feel about this now, and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. I need—I need to know I’m enough for you. Not because of a future husband or children. Just . . . for me.”
“You are enough for me, Maria. Just as you are.” She takes a tissue out of her purse and dabs at her eyes carefully. “You have been ever since the moment I first held you in my arms.”
I don’t pay attention to anyone except the man standing in left field, looking at me. My man. My love. My future.
I never want to go another day without one of his kisses. Never. “I’m sorry,” I breathe out against his lips. “I’m sorry for all of it.” “Don’t be sorry,” he whispers. “I am. I left you. I let myself stay scared.” I smudge my thumb over his eye black as I cradle his jaw, pressing another kiss to his lips. “But I love you, Sebastian Callahan. I love you and I’m never letting you go again. Come on an adventure to Europe with me.”
He puts his hand on my knees, squeezing. “You’re my True North, Mia Angel.” My breath catches in my throat. “Sebastian.”
“It makes me so happy to see everyone around this table,” he says. “My beautiful wife, my children and their partners, Bex’s little one on the way. When Sandra and I bought this house, we hoped we would get here one day, and being able to witness it—it’s a joy. A complete and total joy.”
“I’m proud of you,” he says. “For what?” “For everything.” He stops in his tracks, even though we’re nowhere near the gate, and tilts my face up. He looks serious enough my breath catches in my throat. “But right now? For trusting me to go on this journey with you.”
“Penny,” I interrupt. “I love you and my future brother-in-law very much, but I don’t need to hear the details of your sex life at this exact moment. Maybe on the next wine night.” “You’re no fun,” she says. Then she gasps so loudly I have to hold the phone an arm’s length away. “Wait. What did you just say?” “That I don’t need to hear again about the time you wore a butt plug to—” “Not that. The other thing. Mia, what did you just call Cooper?” I think back and wince. “Oh.” “Does that mean you want to get married?” “I . . . I don’t know.” I blow the hair out of my eyes, looking at the
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