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Chapter nineteen

Griffin

“ T ell us every juicy detail about Saturday night,” Luke says the moment he sits down with his burrito bowl.

Drew invited all of the infield team to his house for an early dinner after our workout today.

Supposedly, it was a chance for us to hang together before the incoming winter storm likely cancels our group training sessions for the next couple of days.

However, I suddenly see this for what it truly is.

A setup. To grill me about my date with Danae.

“Lily, I can’t believe you were party to this,” I yell. She waltzes over and snuggles next to Drew on the loveseat, her own bowl heaping with the rice and taco fixings she cooked for us.

She doesn’t even try to play innocent. “What? I needed to hear the details about any potential addition to the WAGs just as much as they all wanted to watch you squirm.” She points her fork at Carlos. “Amy is going to be upset that you didn’t invite her for this.”

He wipes a hand down his face. “Ugh, she totally is. Can we put this on hold for an hour until she can get over here?”

Adrian swats Carlos with a throw pillow. “Heck, no! You’re not punishing all of us because you didn’t think ahead. You can deal with your fiancée’s wrath later.”

“Leave my throw pillows out of this!” Lily scolds. “And all of you better shut up so Griff can actually talk.”

I take a giant bite of chicken, black beans, and rice as a way to punish them with a delay. The strategy backfires, though, as I’m subjected to five mischievous stares for the extended amount of time it takes to chew.

I already rehashed the highlights of the date with my nosy little sister yesterday.

It’s not that I don’t want to rave about how incredible the night was or how much I enjoyed Danae’s company.

It’s not that I want to hide how close I came to a heart attack at the sight of her in that green dress or how my respect for her skyrocketed over the course of the evening.

But I don’t want to spook Danae by drawing too much attention to our relationship.

Our future felt tenuous for a moment when I described my schedule during the season.

I managed to avoid an onslaught of attention by taking her to Capital Grille, but it’s only a matter of time before she’s exposed to the full-blown havoc she only glimpsed at the bookstore.

I’m brainstorming how to establish more trust with her before that happens. And I don’t think sharing intimate details about her or our date with a bunch of people she would consider strangers qualifies as trust-building.

When I finally swallow, all eyes are still locked on me. Unrelenting.

Sighing, I say, “Guys, all I can tell you is how I feel about it. It was the best date of my life. I get antsy even thinking about the possibility of never seeing Danae again. I would have asked to see her again today if Drew hadn’t invited us over here.

A decision I now regret knowing the true intentions for this dinner. ”

“Awww,” Lily says, eyes and mouth curling into that expression you give adorable babies and dogs.

“But that’s all I’m going to tell you,” I state, which is met with exasperated groans.

“With her adoption situation, Danae has more of a need for privacy right now than most people. And we all know that privacy isn’t a luxury afforded to our significant others,” I add, looking pointedly at Lily.

She and Drew were college sweethearts, but gossip sites were ruthless toward her when Drew got signed to the majors.

They nearly broke off their engagement as a result of the negative press.

Thankfully, when he got traded to the Crowns, the fans here have been much more receptive and respectful.

Still . . . I don’t want to push my luck with Danae yet.

Drew reaches over to squeeze Lily’s knee. “We understand, man. Don’t we?” he says, glaring around the circle at the other players. There’s a chorus of mumbled affirmations.

“Fine, fine, but answer this one question,” Luke says. “I’m not saying you’re in love or getting married tomorrow, but on a scale of one to ten, how much do you like her today?”

I don’t even hesitate. “Ten.”

A mug of steaming coffee warms my hands as I take in the fresh white landscape through my living room's oversized windows.

The natural light in this room is one of the reasons I chose this house.

Of course, the privacy of the gated community was the biggest selling point, but I loved the way the windows illuminated the entire vaulted room.

I savor my single cup of coffee for the day as I watch the snow.

Thick flakes lazily drift from the sky, adding to the six inches already coating the ground.

I’m keeping an eye on the clock, waiting for an appropriate hour to call Danae.

When the area school districts posted messages last night about canceling school today, I hatched a perfect plan on the drive home from Drew’s house.

I bribed Sam to make a run to the store for me.

Unable to wait any longer, I send a text to Danae asking her to call me when she wakes up. Ten seconds later, my phone rings.

“Good morning,” I greet.

“Is something wrong?” Danae immediately asks.

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong,” I say. “Sorry, apparently I need to get better at my text message phrasing so I stop unintentionally freaking you out.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she says. “I need to rewire my brain to stop assuming the worst about every text message. ”

“You don’t need to change anything about that beautiful brain. I’m perfectly capable of changing my text patterns. You tell me—what’s the best way to phrase a text if absolutely nothing is wrong and I’m just looking for any excuse to hear your voice?” I ask.

I hear the smile in her tone when she responds. “Well, you could say, ‘Nothing’s wrong, just have a quick question.’ Or maybe, ‘Nothing’s wrong, but call when you have a free minute.’ Or even a blatant, ‘Nothing’s wrong, just want to hear your voice.’”

“I’m sensing an overt ‘nothing’s wrong’ theme here,” I deadpan.

Danae laughs as she replies, “You asked!”

“You’re right. Thank you for telling me. I’m going to save ‘Nothing’s wrong’ as an automated message prompt,” I say. “Now, I have been looking for any excuse to hear your voice again, but I also have a specific ask. Do you have any plans for the snow day today?”

“Uhhh, not really,” she responds. “I hate driving in snowy conditions. So I was planning to take Jason over to the little bit of green space by the pool in our complex to see if we could build a snowman before other people beat us to it. Why?”

Perfect. This is panning out exactly how I envisioned.

“Well, I happen to have all-wheel drive and exemplary winter driving skills, so I was going to ask if I could come pick up you and Jason to bring you over here. I have a huge yard, so we can build a whole army of snowmen together,” I say.

There’s a pause before Danae asks, “You really want to do that? You’d do that for us?”

“I already bought sleds and snow gear for everyone last night. Maybe that was presumptuous, or maybe I’m showing my hand a little too much, but I know the clock is ticking on my shot to convince you to continue dating me before I leave town.

” Danae huffs a short laugh, making me smile.

“I’d really like to spend the day with you and Jason.

Sam will be here too, but otherwise we’ll have a quiet day to be together without other prying eyes. What do you think?”

Danae hmmms , and the sound is teasing, maybe even flirtatious. “I think I love that idea,” she says. “Let me run it by Jason when he wakes up, but I can’t imagine him turning down that offer. If he tries, I’ll convince him otherwise. Because I’d love to see you again.”

Her words shoot confidence through my veins, and I abandon my cup of coffee in order to have plenty of time to shower and make sure I look presentable.

An hour later, we’ve transferred Jason’s booster seat to the back of my Jeep, and we’re on our way back to my house. Despite my winter driving prowess, I purposely drive extra slowly to keep Danae’s nerves at bay.

“Wow! This place is so cool!” Jason exclaims with awe as we pull up to my house. On the scale of professional athletes’ homes, it’s modest in size. But the gated neighborhood provides security and privacy, plus large lot sizes. Which will serve us well today.

When we walk through the garage door, we’re met with the smell of cinnamon. There’s a pan of cinnamon rolls on the kitchen counter, but zero mess anywhere in sight. I quirk an eyebrow at Sam.

“Frozen section,” she explains.

“That makes a lot more sense,” I say.

She smacks my arm before replying, “They’ll still taste as gooey and delicious as homemade. You want some sugar before we go out in the snow, my guy?” she asks Jason, who enthusiastically high-fives her.

The four of us sit around the table enjoying cinnamon rolls and coffee.

As I pour a cup of coffee for Danae, I decide to break my one-cup rule and pour one for myself.

I want to indulge in the ritual of having a morning cup of coffee along with Danae—something about those shared mundane moments feels the most intimate.

After we’re all thoroughly caffeinated (or sugared-up, in Jason’s case), we sort through the snow gear Sam purchased last night.

She impressively guessed everyone’s sizes correctly, so we’re soon bundled up and ready to head out into the snow.

My backyard has just enough slope for some low-key sledding, so she also purchased four sleds.

“What should we do first? What’s your favorite snow activity—sledding or building snowmen?” I ask Jason.

His brow furrows seriously. “I’ve never been sledding before. And my hands and feet always got too cold before I could finish building a snowman.” My heart catches at his unaware admission. His eyes meet mine with a look of total trust. “Do you think sledding or building a snowman is more fun? ”