“Stop wiggling or I’m going to get a hard on while they’re recording.” I freeze, making him let out a chuckle.
“Oh shit,” Mitch says as we watch the picks start to shift around with teams having made trades.
I see the Yankees are now at the top. Colt told me that was his dream team. He didn’t think he would be called in the first few. I still don’t know a ton about baseball, but based on all the people who were trying to get at him and blowing up his phone I’m not sure if he’s right on that. The time goes up on the board, and we all wait. Each second feels as though it’s an eternity.
“Will they take the whole time?” I ask. Before I can get the words out of my mouth the announcer is walking back to the stage. “That was fast.”
“They must have known who they wanted. I’m guessing they want whoever it is if they traded so much to get the first pick.” Ethan says, not helping my nerves in the least. Tricia grabs my hand, silently telling me it’s going to all work out.
“The New York Yankees have picked Colt Broussard as their first pick.” The room explodes with celebration around us. Everyone goes crazy but Colt and me. I’m still firmly in his lap.
“Colt.” I lift my hand to put it on his cheek. “You did it.”
I told Colt I’d follow him anywhere. Whatever he decided to do. We’d take Tucker with us and start our lives. With or without the draft money we would be okay living off my inheritance. He didn’t look too happy when I suggested that, but he also wasn't too proud to accept the help, knowing that would be best for all of us as a whole. But it didn’t matter. He did it.
“I’m going to give you everything and more,” he says as he rises to his feet, putting me down in front of him. I’m about to shift out of his way, but his hands cup my face before his mouth comes down onto mine, kissing me deeply.
“You’ve already given me everything I could want and more. You.”
“I love you, GG, and one day very soon you’re going to be my wife.”
“I love you too.”
Life might have dealt us both crappy hands, but Colt and I found our happily ever after.
Our love is a grand slam.
Epilogue
A few years later
“You feeling good, man?” Freddie Martinez asks. “What you got there?”
“Don’t talk to him,” snaps Hank, the pitching coach. A monster hitter, the rookie just got called up from the minors and doesn’t know the unwritten rule that if a pitcher is in the middle of a perfect game, you don’t bother him.
I don’t look up from my glove. What I have is a photo of GG. This one was taken yesterday, and she’s got a huge smile on her face. One hand is shading her eyes and the other is wrapped under her belly. Our first baby is coming soon—and by soon, I mean a few more months. It’s July, and each day is getting hotter. I made GG sit up in the WAG box because the heat at the ballpark is getting intense.
She says it’s too hot to be pregnant and that her sweat is sweating. I’m not sure what she means by that, but I don’t mind it because the outdoors isn’t the only thing that is getting steamy. Lately she’s been extra horny—can’t keep her hands off me, sex in the car, finger fucking in the locker room with the trainer just around the corner. It reminds me of back when we were in high school and we rescued her from the weird-ass fake prophet, who is still in prison. Not for kidnapping but tax evasion. The man had been taking cash donations from people and not reporting them to the IRS. The IRS is scary, man. Don’t fuck with them.
But back then, I was scared she was going to be taken again. I wouldn’t let her get more than ten feet away from me. I slept outside her house in my car until her grandparents relented and let me into the house. They gave me a spare room, but I’d creep into GG’s after the lights went out and eat her out on her small twin bed. She’d have to cover her face with a pillow so no one could hear her moan. At school, I totally abandoned my classes and sat next to her, my foot hooked around the leg of her desk. After class was over, I’d have to take her again. Sometimes, it’d just be up against the wall at the end of a library stack, her skirt rucked up, her cheek pressed against the wood paneling and my hand reaching around to pinch her clit while I pounded her from behind. Other times, I’d take her in the locker room, bent over a bench with her tits swaying every time I drove into her tight cunt. My balls tighten, and the urge to get to her soon swamps me.