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forty-eight

Cole

“What a fucking start to the season, eh, Pierce?” Ari plops down in the seat next to me on the team plane. We finished up our home series against Chicago last night, so bright and early Friday morning, we’re on our way to Las Vegas for an away series against the Raptors. And as close as I am with Ari, I’d much rather sit next to Rory, but we both agreed it would be too suspicious.

“Sure is,” I say, taking out my earbuds and turning to face him. “3-0 is a great way to start the season.”

“Made better by the fact that you’re batting .425 right now. Goddamn, man. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Step it up, Morgan. We’ve got a long season ahead of us.”

Ari smiles. “I like it in New York. I hated being in Atlanta.”

“You just like that there’s a new pool of people you haven’t fucked yet.”

“Oh, that’s part of it,” he chuckles. “I haven’t slept in my own bed since we got back from Spring Training. But I like the atmosphere here, too. I like how Skip manages the team.”

“Yeah, he’s a great manager.” I take a deep breath and let it out.

Ari turns more serious now. “He hasn’t figured it out yet?”

I shake my head. “Thankfully, no. But it can’t be long. He knows it’s someone on the team.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “What’s going to happen when he finds out?”

“In my career? I have no fucking idea. For my relationship? Absolutely nothing. He can think and say whatever he wants, but I love his daughter, and he won’t change that.”

“I take back what I said about Lovesick Cole being gross,” he says with a light laugh. “Love looks good on you, man. You seem really fucking happy.”

“I am,” I smile. “Even with us having to hide that we’re together, I’ve never been happier. Rory is so fucking amazing.”

“I’m glad she’s worth it then. I like her. She’s fun. And she likes to give you shit, and we all know that’s my favorite pastime.”

I roll my eyes. “No wonder you two get along so well,” I gripe. “Can’t wait to give you shit with your future girl.”

Ari scoffs. “Fat fucking chance of that happening, Pierce. I don’t do serious. I’m not going to change that for anyone.”

I can’t help but tease him. “Who knows? Maybe Lucia will be single again one day.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right? I don’t even like Lucia. I’m sure as fuck not going to love her.”

“You read romance novels still, right? Isn’t enemies to lovers a really popular trope?”

“She’s not my enemy; we just don’t like each other. Also, you’re the only one that knows about the romance novels, dick,” he chides under his breath. “I have a reputation I’d like to uphold.”

“As if any of the guys would actually care.”

“Doesn’t matter. I just read them to get ideas. When you read men written by women, you learn exactly what women want. Makes the sex so much better.”

“You’re shameless,” I laugh.

“You say ‘shameless,’” he smirks, straightening the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “I say ’giving the women what they want.’”

“And what they want is Ari Morgan?” I cock my eyebrow at him.

“It’s my name they’re screaming, so yeah, I’d say so.”

All I can do is shake my head at Ari’s confidence.

He’s probably not wrong. He always had women falling at his feet when we were in Kansas.

To be honest, I did, too.

And I loved it then.

But the idea of acting like that today is unimaginable now that I finally have the woman I’ve always dreamed of finding.

Rory’s eyes catch mine across the plane, and her bright smile sends warmth and happiness coursing through me.

I love you , she mouths to me.

I love you, too.

Yeah, being casual never felt as good as this does right here.

Tonight’s game is tougher than the games we played against the Windjammers in the last series.

The Raptors are a great team—the Thunderbirds only narrowly beat them in seven games in the National League Championship Series last season to advance to the World Series.

And we struggle for a while tonight. It takes time for us to find our groove, and we really only find it when Ari hits a two-run home run at the top of the ninth inning to put the Stars up by one.

Now, at the bottom of the ninth, we take to the field while Chris Rockman, our closing pitcher, takes the mound. We’re three outs away from starting the season off with four wins and no losses if Rockman can get the save.

And so far, so good.

Chris strikes out the first two batters he faces, leaving us with just one out left to get.

The Raptors’ left fielder is up at-bat, and he connects on a slider that comes in at the edge of the strike zone.

But it doesn’t go far because Chris snags the line drive out of mid-air, getting us our final out and our fourth win of the season as he clinches his first save.

We celebrate as we head out of the dugout, with the exception of Ari and Chris, who are joining Skip for their media appearance.

The clubhouse is rowdy, filled with the excitement of starting our season off strong. We’re World Series champions; we want to defend our pennant, and this gives us a great chance at getting that opportunity.

Lane comes behind Josh and me, clapping his hands on our shoulders. “Four and fucking O, baby!”

“Maybe we can hit a hundred wins this season,” Josh says.

“Only ninety-six to go,” Knox laughs as he walks over to join us.

“Hey, it could happen,” I reply. “We’re fucking great; we can get by with just sixty-two losses.”

“You’re way too damn optimistic,” Knox says, shaking his head.

“Your girlfriend is a Pierce; you know how we are.”

He laughs again as I unbutton my jersey, sliding it off my shoulders, and strip myself out of the sweat-soaked T-shirt I have underneath. I desperately need a shower right now.

The clubhouse door opens then, and Ari, Chris, and Skip walk in. Ari heads right over to us.

“There he is!” I shout, whipping him with my shirt. “The man who helped us get the win tonight!”

“Happy to be of assistance,” Ari says with a bow to the laughter of our friends.

“Great game tonight, guys!” Skip bellows from across the clubhouse. “We’re starting off the season strong, but don’t get complacent. We still have one hundred and fifty-eight games to go before playoffs.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this, Skip,” I say happily.

He comes over to us now, looking at me as he says, “You keep batting like you have been, Pierce, and I have no doubt we’ll end up with the pennant again.”

“This is my season,” I smile. “I can feel it.”

He shakes his head with a grin on his face before his eyes catch something.

“What is that?” he asks, gesturing to my body.

“A tattoo,” I smirk. “I’m kind of covered in them, you know.”

Skip rolls his eyes. “I mean that one specifically.”

This time, he points directly at the tattoo he’s asking about.

The one that, in my celebration of our win, I forgot I wasn’t covering up anymore.

“Oh,” I say warily. “It’s just a constellation.” I’m trying to be as dismissive as possible.

“It looks like the Big Dipper,” he breathes. “It’s kind of funny because Rory just got the Lit-”

He stops his sentence abruptly, and I can see the moment everything clicks into place.

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck .

“Skip,” I say calmly, though my body is shaking. “Let’s talk about this…”

“ You!” he seethes, his tone bitter and cold. “You’re the one fucking my daughter!”