Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Declan pouts. “I’ll miss those when I travel.”
I laugh. “Videos like that don’t travel. They stay here for you and me.”
“Mmm. Me and you,” he whispers. “Can’t wait to watch them again with you.”
“Same, Deck. Same.”
Declan brings me close, wraps an arm around me, dropping a kiss onto the top of my head. “I want to be enough for you, Grant,” he whispers.
“You are,” I tell him. I desperately want to be enough for him too.
Declan Steele feels like the home I’ve always craved. The one true place where I’m wanted in every way.
Yet, this is what I’m most afraid of. This is what I worried about when I talked to Reese last night. That we have cracks. After tonight, I’ve seen them clearly for the first time.
We’re not as perfect as we felt a few months ago.
The illusion of a sweet, sexy slide into our happy ending has faded away, and I’m realizing how fragile love is, how easy it can be to shatter a couple. I see that the real work comes after the fantastic kiss on a Ferris wheel high above the city.
I don’t want to make the wrong move again. I don’t want to cause another crack.
Or worse, a fissure.
I don’t know if epic, soul-shattering sex will be enough to stitch us back together every time we fall apart.
9
Declan
Whoever came up with the saying hot as balls was dead on. Balls do indeed get toasty on a sweaty, humid, hotter-than-one-hundred-degree day.
I toss a glance to Holden as we make our way from the hotel to the ballpark, walking under the sweltering summer sky in balls-hot Houston. “Let’s make a deal,” I say.
“Is this another of your dinner-is-on-you-if-I’m-better-than-you bets? Because the answer is yes. I accept.”
I flip him the bird. “The deal is this,” I say, tugging at my T-shirt. “If the retractable roof is down, we bail. Are you in or out on the plan?”
“I’m in. I will bolt if the AC isn’t on.” My teammate offers a fist for knocking, and I knock back, sealing our getaway plan.
As we turn onto the block with the ballpark, Holden rubs a hand across the back of his neck, clears his throat. “So, are you ready for the media crush? You know they’re going to be all over you and G, right?”
Holden’s a good guy, and since I joined the team in a late May trade, he’s looked out for me. He’s younger than I am by a few years, but we’ve got a bit of a brothers-who-watch-out-for-each-other vibe. It’s kind of sweet, especially since I don’t have siblings.
“Yep. I’m good with it,” I say. That’s all true. When Grant and I came out as a couple on social media, our respective teams’ publicists—Nikki for him, Owen for me—took us out for lunch together, asking if they could do anything to help. It’s been great to have our employers in our corner. “So is Owen. He’s supposed to meet me any second.”
Holden laughs. “Speak of the devil.”
The team’s social media and PR manager rounds the corner, his phone pressed to his ear while he chats with his usual smooth confidence. He stops when he sees us, then says loudly, “Look who I just found wandering the streets of Houston. It’s my shortstop and second baseman. Ciao, Angie,” he says, then stabs the end button. “My cat sitter. She says Goldilocks is doing great and enjoying her duck and tuna pate. I ask you, what else is there in life?”
“A retractable roof at the ballpark?” Holden suggests.
Owen winks. “I’ve got you, guys. I made it clear to the league that all the players will look better on social without the scowls this Texas heat will put on the face of literally any living being.” The Clark Kent lookalike pushes his black glasses up his nose and flashes a big smile at us. “Now, how are you two doing on home run derby day? Do you need anything? Anything at all, either today or on game day tomorrow?”
“If you’re making AC happen, then you’re officially my hero,” I tell him as we head to the players’ entrance.
“Just give me a cape, then.”
Holden brings us back on topic. “So, Owen, is my bud Declan going to face the inquisition today?” I get where Holden is coming from. He grappled with the press earlier this year when he joined the team, having been burned by the media in the past. But he worked with Reese and changed his surly tune. “You’ll be there the whole time, right?”
“Of course,” Owen says. “Just like I’ve been from the start. And today, we’ve got Erin Madison from KRGO,” he continues as we push through the door to the stadium. “She wants to do a quick video package about the two of you, since you’re the heart of the lineup and the best double play combo in the majors, and don’t even try to deny it.” I love how clearly he loves his job and believes in his players. What more could you ask for from a PR guy?