Following the plan, I walk down the granite steps, putting on a show as I play it up for the camera. I’m half-convinced I’ve full-on blacked out, but somehow I remember enough of my routine as I shuffle toward the dugout. Two of the Rattlers’ players are waiting as they help me on top, where I keep on dancing.
I’m tempted to sneak a glance toward the field for Fletcher’s reaction, but I stay strong and stick to the plan. Theo from the Rattlers comes up first, trying to dance with me first as he spins me around, followed by a few more players, but for every one of them, I shake my head. Nope, they are not the ones I want to dance with. This dance is reserved for my favorite shortstop.
Razzle, their team mascot, tries last, attempting to ‘win’ me over as he wiggles the rattle on his tail and tries to wrap me up in it. I push back and wiggle my finger at him while sidestepping around him. Finally, I’m helped off the dugout and led out of the stadium as I shimmy my way onto the field.
Heading toward home plate, I dance with the umpire, who clearly knows how to shake it as he’s constantly dancing to every single walk-up song. But, once again, I shake my head before locking eyes with Fletcher from his spot between second and third base.
His face beams with pride, and I know without a doubt he hasn’t taken his eyes off me for even a single second.
His head may be shaking, but the joy radiating from his smile is enough to let me know he’s loved every single second of my performance. Still, just in case he missed the memo that this is all for him, I wag my finger, beckoning him forward to meet me at home plate.
He shoves away any lingering doubts as he dutifully obeys. He adds his own flair, fully committing as he dances across the infield. There’s the moonwalk, and of course ‘the sprinkler.’ before sealing the deal as he throws it back with a hip wiggle and shimmy before pointing a finger toward me.
The crowd is going wild, but for me, all the noise, music, and bright lights fade away. It’s somehow just the two of us. No more cameras. No more fans. No viral clips waiting to happen. Only me and him, locked in this picture-perfect moment.
I’d planned to keep things fun and flirty and keep him guessing as I danced around him, but the closer he gets, that plan needs to go right out the window. He tosses his glove to the dirt and reaches for me.
There’s no hesitation as I slide my hand into his, his fingers curling around mine just like they were always meant to.
He yanks me toward him, catching me off guard, and before I can even react, I’m hoisted into the air. I should be ‘singing,’ but instead I’m laughing as he twirls us around. He’s always had a gift for ruining my methodically laid-out plans, but who am I to argue? This, in all of its unrehearsed and chaotic glory, is better than anything I could have come up with on my own.
After a few dizzying spins, my feet are placed back on the ground. I attempt to regain my composure as I once again start lip-syncing, and as we dance, he mouths the words along with me.
It truly is a picture-perfect ending as the music finally comes to a finish. He somehow surprises me again, and with little time to prepare he leads me into a dip as his lips find mine.
I’m grinning ear to ear as he pulls away, and lifts me back up to face him. Thankfully, Harry turns off the camera, giving us at least some semblance of privacy despite the huge crowd still watching and going crazy in the stands.
“So you wanna dance with me, huh?” Fletch asks, his eyes searching mine.
All I can manage is a nod.
“Good, because I only wanna dance with you too,” he assures me, and this time, I’m ready for him as I jump up into his arms as he plants another earth-shattering kiss on my lips.
The stadium somehow gets even louder as his teammates join in, chanting Fletcher’s name, but I once again drown it all out. Or at least I try to, until a loud voice clears their throat over the speakers, causing both of us to pull back.
“Alright you lovebirds. Can we get back to the game?” Rowdy Ray asks.
Fletcher’s grip tightens, and it’s obvious he’s not quite ready to let me go. Not that I can blame him after how many times I’ve ran, but I’m officially done with that.
I offer my most sympathetic smile. “Win this game for me, alright?” I suggest, patting his chest before he slowly lowers me and my feet land on home plate.
“Always.” He winks.
I give him one last smile, and run off the field, pretending my cheeks aren’t bright red as every eye in the stadium watches.
The relief is instant as I exit the field and make my way past the small crowd of players and staff as they congratulate and pat me on the back.
I’ll never understand how people like Fletch, or even my parents, handle putting themselves out there like that. I play the part and nod and laugh along with everybody as best I can, but I’ve never been more thankful than I am now as I spot Candice and Logan’s familiar faces. As planned and promised, they escort me out as we make our way out through the tunnel under the stadium.
“Oh my God, Holls,” Candice shrieks, jumping up and down as she and Logan lead the way as the loud cheers and echoes from the crowd die out.
I’ll of course have to face everyone later, and I’m sure people will have a lot to say. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if videos are already circulating around the internet, but at least for now, I can take a moment to decompress with my two best friends.
“You were amazing,” Logan giggles, pulling me into a hug once we’ve gotten far enough away.
I melt into her embrace, as Candice wraps her arms around both of us, as we mold ourselves into a perfect three-way hug.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I breathe, half laughing and half on the verge of incredibly happy tears.
