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“Another baseball game?” Danae asks, a slight groan in her tone. “We literallyjustfinished your game.”

Jason, on the other hand, starts doing some ridiculous dance move that I can only imagine started as a dance trend he’s trying to imitate. We’re standing in the hallway outside the locker room, and one of the assistant coaches passes by, chuckling at Jason.

“Come on, we can leave early if you want to,” I tell Danae, looping an arm around her waist to tug her toward me. “And this time I’ll be sitting there with you. I’ve been wanting to watch one of Rogers’ games, thefriend who plays for Baltimore that I told you about. We can go and enjoy the experience of watching together.”

She gives me a sassy look. “Enjoy, huh?”

Pulling her even closer to me, I tickle her neck with my beard. “I can bribe Sam to take Jason out for ice cream afterward,” I murmur in her ear. I feel the goosebumps break out on her skin, and I steal a quick kiss before standing back to beg. “Please, pretty please?” I say, nudging Jason with my elbow. We both give her our saddest puppy eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Danae says, rolling her eyes. But she can’t hide her smile.

I’m elated at the prospect of getting to watch a gamewithDanae and Jason. She has good reason to be hesitant to bring our relationship into the open, so I called Rogers for a favor. He came through with three standing-only spots in a suite, so we can stay hidden from the public eye while having a good time together.

Just to be safe, we stop by their hotel so they can change out of Crowns gear. I’m already wearing a nondescript t-shirt and plain hat. I throw on sunglasses before we walk into the complex to keep a low profile. It’s familiar territory, so I’m able to navigate us through the back channels to the suite. It’s mostly family members and WAGs of Baltimore players. I greet Rogers’ wife, Tammi, with a one-armed hug (considering my other hand is currently occupied as Danae’s lifeline).

“Griffin West, it’s good to see you!” she says. “Lawrence told me you were the surprise guest joining us today! He’s going to be so excited to see you after the game.”

“Thanks for letting us squeeze in,” I respond. “This is my girlfriend, Danae Collins, and her son, Jason.” I keep the explanation simple, leaving it up to Danae or Jason to offer any additional information as the night goes on. Danae lets go of my hand long enough to shake Tammi’s.

“Help yourself to any of the food and drinks back there,” Tammi says, waving her hand behind us. “I’m sure people will be in and out of the seats, so feel free to sit outside at any point if seats are open. We’re all pretty chill in here.”

“We’ll probably hang back inside the whole time. We’re trying to lie low,” I explain, and Tammi nods.

“Totally understand that. Don’t rush the jump to media attention,” she says to Danae with a sympathetic smile. “There’s something special about the secrecy of having the relationship just between you two. And your inner circles, of course.”

“Yeah, Mr. Griffin gets tired of too much attention,” Jason inserts matter-of-factly. “That’s why we don’t talk about him dating my mom yet.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Oh, do I now?” I ask, shooting a teasing grin at Danae. Her cheeks flush.

“It was the simplest explanation I could come up with for why we shouldn’t tell everyone at school about it,” she says quietly, even though Jason has moved on to scout out the snacks. “It might need a little workshopping.”

Fully laughing, I loop my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. “It’s okay, I can pretend to hate attention.” She pinches my side and offers a brief explanation to Tammi about her situation with Jason.

Tammi’s eyes soften. “That totally makes sense. I’ll be sure to let everyone in the suite know to be careful about posting photos, to check to make sure you aren’t in the background or anything.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that,” Danae says.

Glancing over my shoulder, I notice Jason balancing a plate with one hand while trying to overload a ridiculous amount of chicken tenders onto it with the other. “Whoa there, Fireball. Let me give you a hand with that,” I say, quickly making my way over to him.

We naturally rotate between paying attention to the game, conversing with other guests in the suite, and talking to only each other. Jason has downed his body weight in chicken and cookies, and he’s entertaining everyone with his running commentary about the game play.

During the seventh-inning stretch, I rest an arm around Danae’s shoulders as everyone sings along to “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” Jason is belting out the lyrics, and Danae smiles, watching him.

“You really hate all this?” I ask, disbelieving.

Danae shrugs. “I mean . . . yeah.”

I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Come on, even me in the uniform? You hate that?” She slaps my stomach, but I see it coming and manage to flex my abs just in time. Her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. “You’re telling me the uniform doesn’t do it for youat all?”

Danae tosses her head. “Nope. It’s the man inside the uniform that does it for me.”

Who is the man inside the uniform?The question crashes through my mind like a 95mph fastball, and I usher it out the back door just as quickly.

I quickly put my teasing grin back in place. “You’re seriously not having fun?” I ask Danae, bumping her hip with mine.

She sighs. “I like being withyou, but I’d rather be at home playing a game with you and Jason, or reading a book on the couch. Baseball is still super boring to me,” she says unapologetically. “It’s such a slow-paced game.”

“Well, that’s part of the charm of baseball, though. It was intentionally designed to be a slower-moving game, to make attending games about more than just the action. It’s about sitting and shooting the breeze with your friends between pitches. Although the pitch timer has sped things up a little, which surely you appreciate. But it’s also about enjoying the food, the spectacle, the hot dog races—not having to have your eyes glued to the field as the only source of excitement,” I say. “The whole event is an experience for fans, not just watching the guys on the field.”