The bat cracks, sending the ball hard in my direction. Muscle memory takes over as I track it, glove ready to catch.
Pop.
By the time the ball hits the leather, I’ve already straightened my stance and am firing it off to first. My teammate catches it with precision, and just like that, Jensen’s out, triggering our practice teams to switch.
My turn to bat.
Anticipation trickles through my bloodstream. My favorite part of the game is when the cool metal touches my hands.
Tugging my batting gloves on, they fit like a second skin that I’ve grown accustomed to, and I instantly find myself relaxing. Stepping up to home plate, I exhale a breath and watch as the pitcher—who’s nowhere as good as Austin—pitches a fastball. The bat hums as the ball connects with it, striking the sweet spot that sends it into the sky like a rocket.
Somewhere in the dugout behind me, someone lets out a low whistle.
“Fox!” Coach yells, but I don’t turn to look at him and instead continue to track the ball.
If this were a game, it would have been a home run.
But I’m not running.
“Why the hell aren’t you rounding the bases?” Declan stomps over to me.
“What’s the point?” Cocky, maybe, but we all know how to run. We know what to do when our play excels.
Just this once—while on enemy turf—I want to admire my handiwork.
Declan grumbles, but walks away again. Thinking better of it, he calls over his shoulder, “Huddle up. Now.”
The Bears jog to meet him by the dugouts, and he starts talking about plays, fundamentals, and his expectations for tomorrow’s game.
“I want to start a new tradition for away games. We’re a team—a family, and I feel strongly about celebrating the people who show up for you. So starting now, we’ll celebrate the family who’s shown their support by following our travels.” He nods toward the VIP box next to the dugout. “Some games will have more, some less, but regardless, every single person out there in the stands cheering us on is appreciated. Tomorrow, my daughter Sailor will be watching, along with her nanny Hailey, and Hailey’s sister, Hartley. Who else will be there?”
A couple people mention the names of their loved ones, but there’s not many—not like a home game.
My eyes drift toward the stands, empty now, but come tomorrow they’ll be packed with roaring fans.
But I already know the one personIwant to be there won’t be.
Declan
Anyone up for a drink?
“Ay! Coach just texted,” Austin announces before taking another gulp of his beer. His grin is wide when he puts the glass down a little too roughly on the table in front of us.
“We can read, dumbass.” Jensen snorts, his fingers flying across his screen.
My phone alerts with back-to-back messages seconds later.
Jensen
Already two drinks in.
Austin
At the hotel's bar, Coach. You joining us?
“I’m shocked he’s meeting us. Figured he’d want to relieve the nanny and hang with his kid,” Austin comments, settling back against the metal rungs of the chair’s back.
Declan
