Page 22 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

Chapter Twenty-Two

Van

I couldn’t stop grinning as I waited at the players’ entrance to the stadium. Taylor’s flight had landed an hour ago, and the driver I’d sent should arrive any minute now. My teammates kept teasing me about my mysterious visitor, but I barely noticed my eyes fixed on the road.

Finally, I saw the sleek black car pull up. My heart raced as Taylor stepped out, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. She beamed when she saw me, and I couldn’t help but hug her tightly.

“Welcome to LA,” I said, breathing in her familiar floral scent.

“This is incredible, Van,” she said, her eyes wide as she entered the massive stadium.

I led her to her seat, right behind our dugout. Throughout the game, I couldn’t help but glance up at her between innings. Every time I did, I saw her cheering. Her face lit up with pride. It gave me an extra boost, knowing she was there watching.

After the game, I brought her down to meet some guys. I kept my voice casual as I made the introductions. “This is Taylor, my physical therapist from back home,” I said, hoping the guys wouldn’t make a big deal of it.

No such luck.

Mike, always the smartass, raised an eyebrow. “Physical therapist, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

I felt my face heat up. “Come on, man. It’s not like that.”

Trevor joined in, grinning. “I don’t know, Van. The way you’ve been pitching lately, she must have some magic touch.”

I instinctively stepped closer to Taylor. “Alright, guys, that’s enough. Taylor’s a professional and a good friend. Show some respect.”

To my relief, Taylor took it all in stride. She laughed along with them, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don’t worry, guys. I’ll ensure Van stays in top form... professionally speaking, of course.”

The guys erupted in laughter, and I couldn’t help but join in, marveling at how easily Taylor fit into this world.

After the meet and greet, we left the stadium and went to my apartment. I couldn’t wait to get there and finally have some peace, just the two of us. As we walked through the front door, Taylor immediately lit up when she saw the space.

“This place is amazing!” she exclaimed, spinning around to take it all in. Her eyes darted from the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic city view, to the sleek modern furniture, and the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. “How do you live here and not feel you’re on vacation every day?” she asked, running her hand along the polished marble countertop of the open-concept kitchen.

I chuckled, loving how excited she was. “It’s not bad, huh? But I gotta admit, it’s felt pretty empty without you here.”

Taylor’s eyes softened, and she walked over to where I had laid out a few surprises for her—a baseball jersey with my name and number, and a baseball cap with the Los Angeles Stars logo.

“These are for me?” she asked, her smile widening.

“Of course,” I said, watching her pick up the jersey. “I figured you should have the proper gear if you’re gonna cheer me on from the stands.”

She pulled the jersey over her tee shirt, adjusting it as she laughed. “I love it! I’m gonna wear this every time you play.”

As Taylor stood there in my jersey, the soft fabric draping over her curves, I felt my breath catch in my throat. The sight of her—so at ease in my space, wearing my number—stirred something deep within me. My eyes traced the contours of her face, lingering on the soft smile playing at her lips, the way her eyes sparkled in the warm light of my apartment.

I couldn’t resist any longer. I closed the distance between us in two quick strides, cupping her face in my hands. Her eyes widened in surprise for a split second before fluttering closed as I pressed my lips to hers.

The kiss was electric, filled with all the longing and affection that had built up since her arrival. Taylor’s arms wound around my neck, pulling me closer as she returned the kiss with equal fervor. I could feel her heart racing against my chest, matching my own rhythm. When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, I rested my forehead against hers, savoring the moment.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the stadium,” I murmured, my voice husky.

Taylor’s lips curved into a smile. “What took you so long?” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.

We made ourselves comfortable on the plush living room couch, anticipating our carryout dinner.

Our conversation flowed easily, covering various aspects of our lives. I shared updates about my career in Los Angeles while she discussed her current situation and plans.

“So, how’s the practice coming along?” I asked, genuinely interested in her progress.

Taylor’s eyes lit up. “It’s going well! I’ve got a steady stream of patients from all the neighboring towns, and word of mouth is helping. But...” she hesitated, biting her lip.

“But what?” I prompted gently.

She sighed. “But sometimes I wonder if I’m limiting myself by setting up my practice in Borewood. Don’t get me wrong, I love it there, but...”

“But you’re thinking about bigger opportunities?” I finished for her.

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been looking into some advanced certifications, maybe even taking some specialized courses in sports medicine.”

My heart raced at the implication. “You know, there are some great programs out here in LA,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual.

Taylor’s eyes met mine, a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “I’ve thought about that. But moving to LA... that’s a big step.”

I took her hand in mine. “It is. But you wouldn’t be alone. I’d be here, supporting you every step of the way.”

She squeezed my hand. “I know. And that means everything to me, Van. It’s just... there’s so much to consider.”

As we continued to chat, I felt a mix of comfort and nervousness. Sitting here with her brought me so much joy, yet I couldn’t shake the flutter of anticipation in my chest. Our conversation has kept me on edge in the best possible way.

***

The crack of the bat echoed through the packed stadium of our biggest rivals, the San Francisco Captains. But my focus wasn’t on the ball sailing into the outfield. It was on Taylor—my Taylor—sitting somewhere in the sea of hostile fans, watching me as more than just the guy next door, but as my girlfriend.

It had been a few weeks since her first visit to LA, and now she was back, this time for our most crucial game of the season. The stakes were high—this game could determine our playoff chances. As I wound up for my pitch, my mind briefly flashed to our conversation on my couch during her last visit, her uncertainty about moving to LA.

My arm followed through, and the ball hit the catcher’s mitt with a loud thud—another strike. The away crowd booed, but somewhere in that noise, I imagined Taylor’s cheer. Between innings, I snuck a glance at my phone to see a text from her:

‘You’re killing it out there! I can’t wait to celebrate with you later. ??’

My heart did a little flip, giving me a fresh surge of energy.

By the time the game ended, we had clinched a narrow victory against the Captains, silencing their home crowd. I felt invincible, but the real challenge was yet to come. As I headed towards the field for the post-game interview, I saw Taylor out of the corner of my eye, standing near the dugout. My heart raced as my hand instinctively went to the pocket where I’d been carrying a small velvet box for weeks.

“Van Willis!” The interviewer called, motioning me over. The cameras were rolling, broadcasting live across the nation. “What an incredible game! You’ve just led the Stars to a crucial victory in enemy territory. How does it feel?”

I gave a brief answer about team effort and focusing on the next game, but my mind was elsewhere. When the interviewer asked about my outstanding performance, I saw my opening.

“Actually,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite my pounding heart, “there’s something personal I’ve been planning for a while. Something that’s been my motivation through every game, and every recovery session.”

The interviewer’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Oh? Can you elaborate on that?”

I glanced over to where Taylor stood and motioned for her to come forward. Her eyes widened as she hesitantly stepped onto the field. Sensing something was happening, the hostile crowd fell into a curious hush. The cameras panned to capture Taylor walking toward me, confusion clear on her face.

“Taylor,” I said, my voice carrying across the suddenly quiet stadium. “We’ve been through so much together. From neighbors to friends, from my physical therapist to the love of my life. You’ve been my strength through injury and my joy in victory.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes as I lowered myself onto one knee. The crowd gasped, and I could hear the announcer’s excited voice echoing through the stadium speakers, explaining what was happening to those who couldn’t see.

I pulled out the small velvet box and opened it to reveal the diamond ring I’d chosen weeks ago. “Taylor, you make me want to be the best at everything. I don’t want a future without you in it. Will you marry me?”

The stadium, moments ago filled with rival fans, erupted in a mix of cheers and shocked exclamations. Camera flashes lit up the field like lightning. But all I could see was Taylor, her eyes glistening with tears.

For a heart-stopping moment, she stood frozen. Then, her face broke into the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Yes!” she cried, her voice carrying across the field. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, Van!”

I stood up, sliding the ring onto her finger with shaking hands. We kissed, and the stadium—home and away fans alike—exploded in applause. At that moment, there were no rivals, just witnesses to our love.

The interview continued, but it was all a blur after that. My teammates and rival team members congratulated us, and reporters asked about the proposal.

When we finally escaped the media frenzy, I pulled her aside, pressing my forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?” she laughed, still breathless from the excitement.

“For saying yes. For coming all the way here to cheer me on. For just being you.”

She smiled, touching the side of my face gently. “I couldn’t say no to you, Van. I’ve never been able to.”

“I love you, Taylor,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted her chin upwards, capturing her lips with mine. The second our mouths met, everything else faded. It was just her. Her warmth, softness, and how she melted into me like she belonged there.

When the kiss ended, her eyes fluttered open, as she smiled at me. “I love you, too,” she whispered. That killer smile of hers—made me feel like I was invincible.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, my hands sliding down her shoulders. “Come on,” I murmured, pulling her gently, and guiding her toward the exit.

As we walked off the field hand in hand, looking at Taylor, seeing the love and trust in her eyes, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we’d face them together. This proposal wasn’t just the end of a chapter; it was the beginning of our greatest adventure yet.