Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots, #4)

by Tessa Bailey

“Is it always this hard when you meet the one?” “Yes,” Sig and Burgess said in unison. “Did you ever think life would be easier if you’d just never met her to begin with?” “No.” Again, in unison. “Yeah, me neither. She makes me feel like me. The me that isn’t pretending to be someone or something else. Is that stupid?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s like she’s showing me . . . who I am. And I’m just really scared she’s going to leave once she’s done. Once she’s done making me fall in love with her . . . oh fuck.” That four-letter word—“love”—hit the back of his head like a sack of bricks and he dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck. Fuck.” “Really sneaks up on you, doesn’t it?” Burgess rumbled. “Damn right.” There was a shadow of something nostalgic, possibly even wistful in Sig’s eyes as he stood up. “I’m only going to talk about this once, all right?” He let out a breath. “Whenever I doubt myself with . . . a girl, I ask myself one question.” “What is it?” Robbie croaked. “If there is anyone else in the world who’d work harder to make her happy. As long as the answer to that is no, you’re the right man.”