Immoral

by Nicole Dykes

“There’s nothing else. Just you and me. That’s it, and that’s all that fucking matters.” His throat is pulled tight, and I lean down, licking the corded muscle of his neck and groaning from the salty taste of his skin. “You and me, Ry.” “Bell and Bailey.” His voice is thick with lust, and I nod, nipping at his jaw before diving back into a heated kiss. “Bailey and Bell.”

“You want there to be an us?” He turns to look straight at me and then places his hand on the side of my face, preventing me from looking away. “There was always an us.”

“You’re not just anything, Grady. You’re everything.” He smiles, and I can see my admission makes him happy. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. We tell everyone tomorrow . . . I’m fine with that. We keep it our secret until your knees are all creaky, and you can’t be on the catcher’s mound anymore, and I’m a sweating gasping mess every time I’m on stage because I can’t keep up . . . I’m fine with that too.”

This is what I want. I want him.

“Maybe I don’t give a flying fuck about that meeting anymore. Maybe I’m just done. I’m sick of this.” Ryan stands up, his entire body pulling tight with visible tension and anger. “I want to go to a bar with my boyfriend and hold his hand. I want to be able to kiss him in public without anyone batting an eye. I want to fucking love the man I’ve been in love with for years. Out. Loud.”

“So, the thing about my best friend, the man I’ve known nearly my entire life is that he loves hard. Fiercely. Particularly. First baseball . . .” I grin at him. “And then me.” He rolls his eyes, leaning into the mic. “I think that’s the wrong order.”

“The thing about me is—I sing about love and how it tears you apart. I wasn’t sure I believed in it because I saw too much hate, but Ry, he makes me believe. In everything.” A collective “aw” comes from the crowd. Then I drop to one knee, and I think my eardrums might explode from the roar of the crowd, but all I can do is look up at Ry as I take his hand in mine. “I know we said no big announcements. No Tweets.”

“Marry me.” Not a question. It’s a demand because it’s the only thing that makes sense.” “Yes. I’ll marry you.” Yeah, I think my ears are bleeding. I didn’t think this through because I’ve never heard a crowd so frenzied as when he raises me up to him and pulls me in for a kiss. “I love you, you fucking asshole.” “You love my asshole?” He rolls my eyes and covers the mic with his hand. “I love you too.”

I look over at Dawson, who’s tearing up as he tells the world that Ryan Bailey is mine. Officially.

“I think your dad is more pissed about you playing for LA than you being gay with me.”