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TWENTY-FIVE

MILLIE

“Yes, Lions. Let’s fucking gooooo.”

“Matthew, will you please stop swearing. I’m not telling you again.”

“Mom, it’s baseball . It doesn’t count. Not only that, it’s game one ,” Matty replied, cupping his hands around his mouth. “ Let’s goooo . See, doesn’t work without a little swearing.”

“ Make it work.”

The second my mom turned away he rolled his eyes, but the next time he joined in the chanting, he left out the swearing. I’d never tell him, but he had a point. Swearing added a little bit more passion, and emphasis.

Plus the excitement everyone had been swept up in.

And man, there was so much excitement.

We were only in the fifth inning and had already reached fever pitch. I was half expecting the baby to choose today of all days to start kicking so they wouldn’t get FOMO from all the Lions fans who’d come out in droves to see their team make history .

I’d never experienced a World Series game before, not live, and I was kind of glad, because to witness the Lions experience this for the first time ever was really, really special. Lions Stadium had been done up like a star walking the red carpet.

Black and gold flags hung from every post, sparkly foam fingers and home run signs were being handed to wave in the air, even the food buckets had been made special for today.

It was nothing like the regular season where fans seemed a little more laid back as they drank beer, munched on popcorn and hot dogs, or sang along to whatever was being played on the organ.

There’s no way anyone could be described as laid back today—you could feel the adrenaline running through the stands, which spiked every time the ball was hit.

Everyone was here.

Baseball-loving celebrities were everywhere, especially New York celebrities—so far I’d spotted Jimmy Fallon, Billy Joel, Spike Lee, and the new guys from SNL . Holiday was supposed to be sitting with us, but she got caught up chatting with Scarlett Johansson and had disappeared into a VIP area.

I’d never seen it so full.

It might be a cold October evening outside, but here in the stadium, with the retractable roof sealed tight over the field and fifty thousand baseball fans crammed in tight, it was positively balmy.

And with this baby providing me with my own personal, inbuilt space heater, I was happily surviving in only Tanner’s shirt and a pair of jeans.

I kind of wish Coach had ordered us all back into the suites, because at least we’d have AC up there. But he’d lifted his moratorium, and we were back in our executive seats behind the dugout.

“Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod,” Radley mumbled, rubbing her hands over her thighs before picking up her beer and downing it. “Come on, Luxy. Come on, babe, let’s do it. Let’s fucking go.” Her eyes darted over to my mom. “Sorry, Kirsty.”

Lux slowly made his way out to the plate, his bat spinning in his palm like a cheerleader’s baton.

I had to hand it to him, he really epitomized that unruffled, cool demeanor of someone who knew exactly what they were capable of at the pinnacle of their career.

He was a big hitter, and he planned to bring out the big guns.

I couldn’t tell who was louder, Radley or the rest of the Lions fans, as Lux’s ball soared through the air on its way to the bleachers, taking the score to Lions 3, Yankees 1. Parker, who’d been grounded on third, ran to home plate with a loud whoop before disappearing into the dugout.

As always, Radley’s face beamed out from the jumbotron while Lux passed each base; it had happened every game she’d attended this season.

It had taken a little getting used to, and she usually just kept her expression held in a quiet smile.

Not today, however, for the moment Lux looked up to see her jumping around in excitement, she blew him a kiss that had the crowds going wild.

And then it was Tanner’s turn.

On my left, my mom grabbed my hand and squeezed. On my right, Radley did the same. My brothers were trying to start a wave by standing up and down and chanting his name, but it didn’t seem to be working. Perhaps when Tanner’s family arrived for the games later in the week they’d have more luck.

Tanner’s parents were coming to town first, followed by the rest of them later in the week, and his mom had already messaged me two dozen times to tell me how excited she was. Truthfully I was excited, too, but I was also happy to have my mom here and Holiday by my side.

Tanner stepped up to the plate.

So far this game he’d hit a couple of good balls, but we were yet to have a home run off his bat. His defensive play, however, had been off the charts. Good enough that a couple of Yankees fans I’d squeezed past on the way to the bathroom for the seventeenth time had been grumbling about it.

My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white, and I knew I’d have little crescent shapes stamped into my palms.

“SIMPSON. SIMPSON. SIMPSON,” chanted my brothers.

The stadium organ blared out its usual doo doo doo doo.

Gerrit Cole pitched his arm back, and the ball shot out.

Tanner’s hit didn’t take it as far as Lux’s, but it sped along the field fast enough that the Yankees’ shortstop and center fielder both sprinted after it. The crowds were just as loud however, letting out deafening cheers when Tanner stopped on third base.

And just like every other time he’d been on base this game, he turned around and grinned directly at me.

Magic , he mouthed .

It was hard for me to wrap my head around how much had changed in how little time. Even harder was how long it had taken me to admit I loved him.

Standing here behind the dugout where I’d stood many, many times this season, and watching him hit the ball into the outfield just like he’d done, the same butterflies fluttered in my belly like they always did.

And I wondered if perhaps I’d been a little bit in love with Tanner for much longer than I realized, because now I had, everything seemed so much clearer. Like wearing a pair of eyeglasses after struggling to see what was right in front of you.

An hour later and game one was over—the Lions victorious. The roar of the crowds was louder than I’d ever heard it, and the moment time was called on the game, Tanner rushed out of the dugout and vaulted over the roof.

“Tanner, man, awesome game. Awesome. This week is going to be incredible,” cried Matty, pushing out of the seats before I could.

“Thanks, dude, we got the first one down. Three more to go.”

“You’ll do it. I know it.”

“Yeah, we will.” Tanner grinned back at him before turning to me. “Because we’ve got some magic, right, Mills?”

I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as possible.

“I’m so proud of you. You played amazingly, you all did. I’m so proud, and baby is so proud,” I said, pulling back to kiss him as hard and as long possible while also keeping it chaste in front of my mom, brothers, and the surrounding Lions fans .

It was harder than it sounded.

Hopefully they were too distracted by Radley and Lux, or Holiday, who’d rejoined us.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered again, trying to block out the sound of the exiting crowds around us and all those clamoring over the rails for autographs, selfies, anything they could keep as a memory of the first game. “You’ve been so strong this past month.”

His eyes scanned over me as his smile faltered a little, dropping to something more serious.

“It’s you . It’s having you here, wearing my shirt…” Running his fingers along the edges, he tugged me closer again. “ Shit , it does something to me. I feel unstoppable. I can’t describe it.”

“SIMPSON. WESTON. LOCKER ROOM, NOW,” yelled a voice from the dugout, totally ruining any moment we were having.

Tanner’s lip curled in a smirk before quickly his mouth surrounded mine. “We need to go, babe, but call me before you get into bed.”

“I will.”

“Hey, Mills? Fall in love with me yet?”

My shoulder jerked up in response. “You know, I think I did.”

“About fucking time,” he cried, and took off after Lux.

Yeah. About fucking time.

“ M an, I can’t believe we’re in the same city and I’m having to wake up in a strange bed and miss this,” Tanner grumbled, plumping up the pillows behind his head.

“You’re not really missing anything,” I replied, squeezing out some toothpaste onto the brush and turning on the faucet.

“I’m missing the morning bump assessment. It’s hard to tell how much the baby has grown from this angle.”

Twisting to the side while I brushed my teeth, I stood in front of the phone for Tanner to see he was—in fact—missing nothing. Bump was still the same.

“See.”

“Hmm,” he replied as a twinge pinged down my right side. Something that had been happening since I woke up. “What’s that face for?”

“Oh nothing,” I said, trying my best to rub it away. “I woke up really achy, my side hurts today. I just slept funny I think.”

“Because I’m not next to you.”

“Yeah, that’s why. Nothing to do with this basketball growing inside me and pushing all my internal organs out of the way.”

“Maybe you should go and see Doctor Humphries.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking. But he seemed deadly serious. “I’m not going to see the doctor because I slept funny.”

“Have a bath then, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t have time for a bath now, your parents will be here soon. And then our moms are going shopping, and then Holiday and I are meeting them for a late lunch, and then we’re all heading to Yankee Stadium. ”

Perhaps that was why I hadn’t slept well, and the real cause of the ache in my side. Anxiety. Not that I had anything to be anxious about, beyond meeting Tanner’s mom and—you know—really wanting her to like me in person, and decide I was suitable enough to raise her future grandchild.

I needed to nip it in the bud, too, if my body was already aching at twenty weeks pregnant, what was it going to be like at thirty? Thirty-nine?

“That sure sounds like a busy day.”

“Yes.”