Finally, something we could both agree on. To say the guys hadn’t played their best would be an understatement. I was pretty sure we had set a season record for the most pop flies to the infield.
I crossed my arms, partly because it was comfortable, partly because it felt safer to keep some space between us. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“I wanted to see how you were. And if we could talk.” His gaze flicked back to mine. “And apologize.”
“I think we both know I’m the one who owes you an apology.”
The words scraped on the way out because letting go of my pride had never been my strong suit. Stubbornness had been my shield for as long as I could remember—it kept me upright when things got hard, kept people from getting too close.Kept me safe.And yes, it wasn’t always pretty, but it was familiar.
I swallowed past it, forcing myself to keep going.
“I should have told you sooner, regardless of how I thought you might respond. And finding out like that, in front of everybody, was fucked up, so I’m sorry.”
“I get it,” he said gently. There was no accusation in his voice, just that calm, even tone he used when he was trying to talk someone down from a ledge. “I get why you didn’t tell me right away. And I’m not here to make you feel worse about it.”
My chest loosened just a fraction.
“But I still want to be a part of it.”
I grinned. “Well, you are part of it. You know,biologically.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He unraveled my tangled arms and took my hands in his. “I want to be involved in all of it. I’m talking doctor appointments, preparing the nursery, the weird ass stuff no one talks about.” His mouth twitched. “Like whatever the fuck happens with your ankles in the eighth month.”
Hold up.
“Wait, what’s going to happen to my ankles? I haven’t made it to that part of my book.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Let’s save that for another day, yeah?”
I nodded. That was all I could manage when my brain had completely short-circuited from the way his thumbs were dragging lazy circles over my skin. His hands were warm, calloused in the places that came from years of gripping a bat, and the steady pressure against my pulse felt almost hypnotic.
Our tattoos met in the space between our knuckles. His bold black lines and shaded script tangled with the softer, fine lines inked along my fingers. In the low hotel light, they looked like they belonged to the same story. One design bled into the next until I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began.
“Now it’s my turn to apologize.”
“What? You don’t have—”
“I do. I’m sorry for bombarding you with a million questions. I was . . . trying to wrap my head around everything and forgot you were probably doing the same. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were doing it wrong.”
“I appreciate that.”
He looked away before adding, “I have been through this before, so I do knowsomethings, but there’s also a lot I missed the first time around. Things I didn’t get to be there for with Carolina, and I don’t want to miss them this time. Not if you’ll let me be part of it.”
Something low in my chest tightened, not in a bad way, but in that way that made it hard to find the right words. For so long, I had filed Brooks under unshakable—gruff, stoic, built out of steel and discipline. But right now, with his hands still warm around mine and his voice low and steady, I could see past all that armor.
And underneath it all, Brooks was a gentle giant.
“Okay,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. “We do this together. Just try to give me some grace while I figure out how to do this with someone else in the equation.”
His shoulders eased, and the smallest smile ghosted over his mouth. “Deal.”
I wasn’t sure if I felt lighter because of his answer or heavier because of what it meant, but for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel like I was carrying it all alone. And as reluctant as I was to admit it, that felt pretty good.
“I promise not to take over your life,” he added. “But if you need anything—antacids, a midnight snack, one of those massive pregnancy pillows that looks like a pool noodle—just call me, please.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to do that.”
“But I want to. And I would really appreciate it if you’d let me know when your next appointment is.” He smirked. “I think I owe you another sonogram photo, one without drool and toothmarks.”
