Last Fall

by Alexis Anne

  “Hell yeah. If nothing else I can’t hit off Suarez to save my life. It’ll be an embarrassing playoff showing for me.”

  I shook my head. “There you go, talking down about yourself again.”

  He packed up the trays and set them back on the cart, then he crawled into bed beside me. “You know what else I’m confident about?” He ran his hands over my curves.

  It took my breath away. “What?”

  “That I’m in love with you.”

  A room had never been more deafeningly silent in the moments after Erik said he loved me. Not even my heartbeat dared interrupt the gravity of the occasion.

  I’m in love with you.

  “Just like that?”

  I kind of expected him to scowl or at least be put off by my comment but instead he smiled. “I’ve been in love with you for a very long time, Zo. I just didn’t get a chance to be in love with you until now.”

  “I like your confidence.”

  His hand drifted back up to my breast. “Yeah? Does it turn you on?”

  “Yes. But it also makes me happy.”

  He blinked and gave me one of his really happy lopsided grins. “I like making you happy. Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds.”

  My goodness I loved this man. He was everything I ever hoped for in a real life hero. “I love you too, you know?”

  “Yeah, but it sure is nice to hear it.”

  He sank down on top of me, pulling my leg up so he fit better. “I think this means we should have celebration sex.”

  “We just had sex before dinner.” Not that I was complaining.

  He kissed down my neck to the spot I was oh, so sensitive. “I like the challenge.”

  Friday morning the natural alarm clock in my brain woke me at six like it did every other day. At first I tried to go back to sleep. I was comfortable and ridiculously happy in Erik’s bed. He was a funny sleeper, though. He liked to sprawl on his stomach. Luckily he had a king-sized bed. I’d woken up with his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades and a small percentage of the mattress in comparison.

  I was a fetal position kind of sleeper so it didn’t bother me at all. In a weird way we fit together perfectly. So for a little while I didn’t move. Instead I soaked up the sounds and smells of his room. The condo was high enough up that I didn’t really hear the sounds of cars or traffic. Instead it was the whir of the air conditioning clicking off and on, attempting, even in the early hours of the day, to keep the room cool. His fan spun above us. There was a little tick, tick it made every second or so.

  The only other sound was Erik’s soft breaths. Seth had chosen to sleep over at his on-and-off again girlfriend’s apartment so it was just the two of us.

  After a little bit I flipped over and faced him. Dawn had broken so some light was creeping in around his blackout curtains. I’d already learned that Erik liked to sleep as long as possible after being on the road, so the curtains were a necessity, but it was just bright enough that I could make out the lines of his jaw and nose, see the stubble shadowing his chin. He and Wes joked that they’d grow playoff beards but I wasn’t so sure it was a joke. I liked that Wes and Roman had pulled Erik into their goofball plans. I understood that Erik would always be the serious one, but it was nice to see him loosen up a little bit.

  Honestly it was his serious side that I was so attracted to. It made him easy to read. It was obvious what he cared about and he made it abundantly clear how he expected everyone else to care as well. He was loyal and loving and just plain amazing. It scared me a little how integral he already felt to my life. If he were hurt or had to leave for some reason, I knew it would hurt more than anything I’d ever felt before.

  Which of course made me feel a lot of things that were too much for lying around in bed, so I quietly slid away, grabbed one of his shirts, and slunk off to the kitchen.

  After brewing up a pot of coffee and scrounging up a plate of cheese and crackers, I settled into the couch to work on my next chapter. I was so deep into my scene that I didn’t even notice the sound of a key in the door.

  I also managed to miss the door opening. It wasn’t until Jack was closing the door that I noticed anything at all.

  “Well, well, well. You have no idea how happy I am to see you in my little brother’s t-shirt,” he chuckled softly.

  I jumped, not that crushing my laptop to my chest would have stopped a robber, but human instinct is what it is. “Jesus, Jack. You scared me.”

  He shrugged, not looking at all sorry. “I promised Erik I’d stop by and drag him out to breakfast. He gets jittery before big games. I’m guessing something distracted him and he forgot.”

  The ridiculous grin on his face told me he was genuinely happy about this little mix-up. “Why are you so happy about this?”

  “Because,” he made himself quite at home by pouring a cup of coffee, “I like you and I think you’re a good fit for him. The Cassidy family is very serious about relationships, in case you haven’t noticed. Erik in particular.”

  “What does that even mean?” I set the laptop down and made sure the blanket on the couch properly covered my very bare legs.

  Jack and Erik looked so much alike. It was a little disconcerting, actually. Their eyes were slightly different shades of brown and Jack kept a beard, but they had the same coloring, same build, same face shape. Even their voices were similar. So as he made himself comfortable in the armchair opposite me, I had to remind myself it was Jack, not Erik.

  So weird.

  “My brother’s not a saint. He has dated for fun a few times, but serious fun, you know?”

  I had a good idea, actually. “Someone he liked and respected and had a good time with. Short term. Ended it when he realized they really weren’t going anywhere?”

  “See? You know my brother as well as any of us. Which means you get him.” He shrugged as if that was in and of itself an explanation.

  “Is there a point to bringing up his exes or are you enjoying watching me squirm?” I knew Erik loved me but I really didn’t want to think about the women who came before me.

  Like, ever.

  “I brought it up because, as I said, Erik takes relationships very seriously. He ends them as soon as he knows they’re going nowhere. But the day of his first playoff game I find you here in his condo, wearing his shirt.”

  Oh, this was the Big-Brother-Warning-Talk. The Don’t-Break-His-Heart-Lecture. He was a little late for that.

  “I love him.”

  Jack smile. “I know. I’m glad to hear you know it. I was a little worried.”

  “Worried?” That I’d hide my head in the sand and run away from the inevitable? It was a valid concern and I didn’t begrudge him it.

  “Belle mentioned some things. Nothing specific. It just made me wonder, after seeing how aloof you were with him, if maybe you weren’t ready for the intensity that comes with dating a ballplayer.”

  Now that was a whole other thing. “My life as a writer isn’t exactly drama free. Erik has spent some time getting to know my world, the people I work with, what my days look like. I’ve been around the team for a couple of years now and I had a good idea of what Erik’s life was like, but he’s also spent a lot of time explaining his schedule, his road games, what the playoffs will be like. I think I can handle it.”

  Jack nodded once and went back to sipping his coffee.

  But my curiosity got the better of me. “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Yes,” he said bluntly. “But Erik and I are two very different people. Plus he’s meeting you at thirty-three. He’s much wiser and ready for a relationship. Berlin and I were young and I was stupid. And now I’m divorced.” He finished off his coffee, setting it on the coffee table. “Moral of the story is, don’t let your ego get bigger than your heart. You can live without an ego but can’t live without a heart.”

  Jack put me in a melancholy mood and I spent the rest of the morning writing some very heartfelt stuff for . . . something. It didn�
��t fit the book I was editing and it had nothing to do with any of the other projects I had sitting on the back burner. It had no home but I wrote it anyway because if I had learned anything in my short career, it was that inspired, heartfelt bursts of writing were gold, no matter what.

  After Erik woke up from his nap we got dressed for the night ahead. Him to face the press on his way into the stadium with the rest of the team, and me to meet his mother. I was kind of relieved that it was only Bernice and Jack coming to today’s game. I’d meet almost everyone else by the end of next week.

  No pressure at all.

  It was just that I didn’t want any sort of foot to drop and ruin how incredibly happy I was right now. Plus I didn’t want any drama distracting Erik from his dream coming true.

  Luckily my concerns were completely unfounded. Not only was Bernice every bit as lovely and wonderful as her sons described, but her first moment alone with me she voiced the same hope.

  “My son has dreamt about playing in The World Series since he was ten. I found him standing on his bed with his bat over his shoulder, calling an imaginary game. The only thing that matters for the next three weeks is keeping him happy and healthy.”

  “I completely agree.” I leaned back against the kitchen counter with a glass of water in my hand as I looked her over. She was shorter than I was by a good two inches, with dark shiny hair shot through with streaks of white. Her dark brown eyes missed nothing. She took in every detail with the kind of quiet contemplation I’d fear if I were her child. I bet she knew everything about everyone. She was not the kind of woman I wanted to upset. “Erik and I have one thing in common. We’re both unexpectedly living out our wildest dreams. I understand what this means to him and how incredibly rare it is. I will be every bit as supportive of him this month as he’s been of me.”

  I struck gold with that one. Bernice sighed with relief. “You know I always worried about who he’d finally fall for. It’s not easy to love someone whose face is in the spotlight all the time. We’ve had our ups and downs with that.”

  “Jack?”

  She nodded. “You know I live just a few blocks from Berlin. We’re still very close. She’s still a part of the family as far as I’m concerned. I thought both of them being so successful would be a good thing. They each had lives. But in the end Berlin was already successful while Jack was just coming into his. They grew apart.”

  It was kind of touching how much she seemed to be torn up over their marriage. “Erik once said ballplayers and writers were alike because we do something very few people will do.”

  “I can already see why that’s important for the two of you.”

  Seth barreled his way into the kitchen. “Mama Kaine!” He wrapped her up in a hug. “Did you bring my cookies?”

  It was funny the way he dissolved into a teenager around Bernice.

  “They are on your bed. By the way, clean your room.”

  “Yes, Mama Kaine.” He leaned his head on her shoulder. “I’m going to miss your visits when Erik moves in with Zoe.”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  I shrugged. “News to me.” Not that it wasn’t inevitable.

  “Like there’s any question,” he grumbled. “You’re here everyday.”

  “How would you know?” I shot back with a grin. “You keep shacking up with the woman you’re not interested in.”

  “Seth Butler!” Bernice admonished.

  “Thanks, Zoe,” he grimaced.

  My phone vibrated, saving me from further evil glares. “Sorry guys. This is my agent. I need to take it.” Out on the balcony and away from the lecture Seth was getting about respecting relationships. “Hey Maggie! What’s up?”

  “Please don’t be mad at me.”

  She had never, ever said anything like that to me. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “The producers have requested you visit the week after next to go over the final script, casting, and details.”

  Oh. “I see.” I never thought I’d be disappointed by something like this, but I was. Usually being a writer was awesome because I made my own hours. And because of that advantage I’d planned on traveling with Erik to support him during the playoffs.

  “I know this is terrible timing for you but it should just be one, maybe two days in LA.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I was just surprised.”

  “I was too but once Lily and Scott joined the project everything has gone light speed ahead. I told them in the future we need more of a heads-up.”

  “Yeah thank you. Forward me the details and I’ll get my travel plans squared away.” LA and movies still seemed kind of imaginary. I had a feeling after next week it be a lot more real.

  The sliding glass door behind me slid open and closed. Warm lips caressed my cheek as strong arms surrounded me. I leaned back.

  “Thanks for understanding, Zoe. And tell Erik I said good luck. You can say that to ballplayers, right? It’s not bad luck like in theater?”

  I turned to the man in question. “Maggie says good luck.”

  He kissed my cheek again. “Thank you Maggie.”

  Maggie giggled. “Talk to you later.”

  I ended the call. “Time to go?”

  “Yep. What was Maggie calling about?”

  “Turns out I’m going to make a quick trip to LA for the movie.”

  “Now?” His arms tensed around me.

  “No. Maggie’s sending me the dates. Week after next. I might miss a couple of games.”

  “No problem.” He spun me around. “You have big dreams too. It’s part of our deal.”

  He had no idea how sexy that made him so I decided to show him with a much dirtier kiss.

  Jack knocked on the glass behind us. “Come on, Lovebirds. Let’s go!”

  “You have a game to win.” I kissed him once more for luck.

  “How can we lose with you there to cheer us on?”

  Turns out winning was not as easy as Erik predicted. In fact, they were very much in danger of being eliminated. It all came down to the final game. They had home field advantage but the entire series had been ugly, filled with trash talking, injuries, and games going into extra innings. I wasn’t expecting tonight to be any different.

  I sat between Carrie and Bernice. Erik’s brothers and their wives sat in front of us. I’d never been so grateful for Carrie’s friendship than I had been this last week. Without her by my side I didn’t know how I would have made it through so many tense games.

  “Shit,” she swore two batters into the fourth inning.

  “What?”

  “Wes is mouthing off.”

  I squinted but from our position I couldn’t see anything other than Wes squatting behind home plate. “How do you know?”

  “See how his right shoulder keeps dropping? He does that when he’s talking. And you see the batter? How he’s glaring down at Wes?”

  Oh . . . Now that she pointed it out I could see it all. I was going to have to get better at reading player’s ticks if I wanted to keep up. “It’s still early.”

  “Exactly,” she muttered, slinking down in the seat. “This game is going to end in blood.”

  I really hoped she didn’t mean actual blood.

  But as the game progressed I started to wonder. I could see June checking players in the dugout. One got tangled up with the catcher sliding across home plate, another was bleeding after a collision with a third baseman. The Phoenix players weren’t faring any better.

  The trash talking got worse. The Mantas even started out of the dugout at one point in the eighth. Erik managed to keep them calm.

  And then the worst happened. Ernest Dario, the same guy Erik and Wes liked to call Dickwad Dario, made a jump off of first base, ready to steal second. Everything happened so fast. The throw, the slide, the collision. I leapt out of my seat, staring down at the field in horror as Erik and Dario untangled their bodies.

  I didn’t notice the camera on me or how everyone was as entranced by the “stunnin
g brunette wearing Erik Cassidy’s number, holding back tears,” as much as they were fascinated by the players on the field.

  Erik’s mother took my hand and squeezed as he stood up, dusting the clay from his uniform. He waved June off then smiled right up at me. I hadn’t realized until that moment how many horrible scenarios I’d run through my mind. Was his knee hurt? His ankle? And arm? Would he be able to play? Was he out for the series?

  I wasn’t usually one to jump to a million conclusions but apparently when it came to Erik I could go into panic mode instantaneously.

  “He’s okay?”

  “Yep,” Carrie confirmed. “Pissed but okay. Congratulations, you’ve survived your first potential injury.”

  “They don’t do this often, do they?” I plopped back into my seat.

  “Not usually. This isn’t football.”

  Thank goodness for that.

  Things did not get better. The game remained tied as they went into the ninth inning. Tensions were high from the players to the fans. Phoenix hadn’t scored so when Erik took the plate I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. It was the first time I noticed my face on the big screens around the stadium.

  “Ignore it,” Carrie whispered in my ear. “People just like knowing we’re as nervous as they are.”

  “No way. I’m more nervous.” I held my breath as Erik watched two balls fly across the plate. “Way, way more nervous.” He took his first strike and he wasn’t happy about it. He shook his head and dug his toe into the clay. On the next pitch he swung and sent the ball sailing low and short between the outfielders. He was on first.

  The crowd cheered.

  Chris followed him, sending another ball sailing into the outfield and Erik around to second.

  “Two players on,” Bernice said more to herself than anyone. Her leg bounced up and down like a jackhammer. “No outs.”

  Carrie and I nodded. This was big.

  Seth walked up to bat and the crowd began chattering. “What’s going on?”

  “Seth leads the team in homeruns,” Carrie explained. “They’re hoping he gets permission to swing away.”