by Felicia Lynn
The squeak of the door as it opens startles me, but I cautiously raise my head and see Charlotte in the doorway frozen with concern, looking at me. I hastily loosen my hands clasped around the back of my neck. My arms flounder a bit before dropping unsteadily to my sides.
Her face is clouded with uneasiness. “Buttercup,” I say, hearing the intensity in my voice.
Moving with silent quickness, she steps into the room, closing the door and turning the lock from the inside. Without hesitation, she walks into my arms and wraps her own around my waist. Her warmth soaks into me in a way I’d never noticed before, and in that second, I vow to never forget the way I feel right now. Her touch calms me because it’s not her touch I feel. It’s her love. I get it now, and I won’t ever forget it.
She looks up at me with a soft smile full of compassion. I’ll never understand how a girl who grew up in a home worthy of the American dream with the postcard-picture family could’ve suffered through life being unloved, mistreated, and emotionally abused. But here she stands in my arms filled with so much sweetness and looking at me with adoration. I squeeze her tighter, and she comfortably folds her cheek to my chest.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath. She’s everything. The drumbeats of our hearts can be easily heard in the calm silence of the room. I regret that we can’t be alone like this for much longer. Even if I wanted to hide in this storage room with my girl all day, she planned this party for me, and I want her to enjoy every minute of it by my side.
“Want to talk about it, Ty?” she asks, tenderly.
I nod before realizing she can’t see me. “I love him, buttercup. I think I have for a long time. I was walking toward the bar to say hello to him and thank him for coming, and it hit me. I was thinking about how it all started. He gave me a chance, Charlie, but it was so much more. He gave me everything. I had it all along and just didn’t know it.”
She looks up at me again, her lips parted and her expression soft. She softly strokes my arms as an easy smile forms. Her eyes sparkle, and I lean forward, pressing my lips to her forehead.
“Ty, you are such an amazing man. You’d be appalled if you knew how often I ask myself if you’re real. You’re smart, kind, gentle, and you love with ferocity. You’re driven, talented, and beautiful—inside and out. You’re so easy to love. I knew the first time I met Matthew and Leslie Jacobs and their family that they loved you like their own, but I saw immediately how much they meant to you as well. One look at you as you were interacting with them, and I knew you treasured them in a special place in your heart.” She pulls her face back to capture my eyes. “Why is this upsetting you? Are you questioning if they know they love you or if they know you love them?”
In just a few sentences, Charlotte brings me the sense of clarity and peace I needed. Considering her words, I hope she’s right, and I think she actually is. I want them to know how much they mean to me, and by the end of today, I will make sure I tell them that face to face.
“I once thought it was possible to fall in and out of love. I didn’t think it could’ve possibly been permanent. It was a temporary distraction I wasn’t willing to risk. I told myself that if love didn’t destroy me from the inside out, throwing away my future and dreams for a career certainly would. Thinking about that now, it’s laughable. I wish I could go back and tell my seventeen-year-old self the real facts. The truth I know with everything I am.”
Sharing a moment of satisfaction, I can’t resist claiming her lips. When we separate, I reluctantly begin to move toward the door with Charlie’s fingers threaded with mine.
“So what would you tell your seventeen-year-old self, hotshot?” she asks with a hint of humor tainting the curiosity.
I stop just as we’re exiting the doorway. In a lightning fast move, I spin us, pinning her to the wall with my body. Looking at me with a glint of wonder in her eyes, I feel the irresistible intensity between us and know that no matter what, I must resist it now. It’s not the time, but it would take a natural disaster to keep me away from her once I get her alone in our home tonight.
“I’d tell myself the idea of falling in and out of love is fake. When you find the one for you, you just love them. It’s impossible to choose not to love, and there’s no way you could ever stop. I’d punch myself in my eye for thinking my future and dreams of a career could even remotely compare to building a life with the one I love. That’s like comparing apples to horseshit. It doesn’t even make sense, buttercup. I think you might have been wrong about me being smart.” I wink.
Charlie’s giggle tickles my ear and warms my body as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my head down to connect our lips.
“HEADS-UP, TYLER. WE’RE thirty minutes to start. I have reserved the seating on either side of you, as well as the row directly behind you. Just let me know who you want sitting where and I’ll handle it,” Scott tells me.
I scan the room, noticing the crowds around the bar are thicker than before I made my temporary escape. The camera crew is in position and already working. I’m not sure if they’re filming already or if they’re just testing angles.
My friends were confident I’d cancel having the production team film me during the draft even after I’d reluctantly agreed. Honestly, if I’d thought I could’ve gotten away with that, I would’ve. I didn’t want any part of the big charade the network envisioned when Scott brought it up. Other than when I’m on the mound pitching, being the center of attention is not really my style. But the way Scott explained it was that I wasn’t really in a position to say no. Apparently, the network needs the live feeds of the top draft prospects for ratings, and the publicity benefits the MLB organization as well as a team if I am selected. Rejecting the cameras would have essentially been a slap in the face to the organization and made me look like a giant asshole. Like I did not want to be a team player before I was even signed.
Charlie planned this little surprise party, which was never much of a secret to me. I knew what she was up to almost immediately and initially wanted to shut it down, but she was so excited about it and thought I deserved the attention and recognition. I didn’t. The only person I need is Charlie, but I went along with it and pretended to be oblivious. Thankfully, I successfully played it off, and now, here we are.
If I am selected tonight, I’ll celebrate surrounded by friends, just as my girl wanted. Scott’s the only person who knew I was aware of this not-so-surprise party and public draft viewing, but he was not disappointed with the idea. As my future agent, if all goes well, he was in full support of this kind of publicity. It’s worth its weight in gold in this industry, but that doesn’t make me have to like it any more. I’m really trying to pretend I give more of a shit about this business part of the job when, in reality, I don’t. I just want to marry my girl and play ball.
Scott steps closer to me, making it clear he has something to tell me that he doesn’t want the others to overhear, so I turn and nonchalantly tilt my head to assist. “The restaurant is at max capacity next door, and an even larger crowd is forming in the parking lot outside. Apparently, word about this function has spread. It’s a big deal for a small hometown to have their hero make national news and headlines. But just so you’re aware, the press is out there too, and I don’t think I need to mention who it is. She’s been making good use of her time out there by interviewing anyone willing to talk to her since she was denied access to the private party,” he tells me in a hushed tone.
I know I have to pretend to be unaffected and calm, even if I’m not. In this case, I’m without a doubt not unaffected by the news that Jessica fucking Christy is here. That woman has been a thorn in my side since the first time I had the un-pleasure of meeting her. What was once an annoyance when she’d track me down after a practice or game became much more problematic when her unethical behavior and flat-out shady reporting tactics put my future with Charlotte in jeopardy. What’s worse is I know without a doubt she won’t leave or stop harassing me until she gets something
she can quote.
“We can’t make her leave, can we?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Scott looks remorseful and just shakes his head.
“I don’t want her anywhere near Charlie. I’ll figure out how to get us out of here without going out front later. For now, I just can’t think about her, or this draft viewing will be over before it even starts. What else do I need to know?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t have any more bad news to deliver.
“Everything is set. I just need to know where you want people seated. You’re obviously front and center with Charlotte next to you. Who else do you want close? I’ll get them seated so we can get the show on the road.”
I turn my head slightly, scanning the crowd without making it obvious. When I see them, I tip my head in their direction. “I want the Jacobs family behind me, all of them. And you’ll be on my other side. Any other empty seats fill with my teammates, coaches, and anyone from the Taylor family who wants a seat.” With a nod, he shakes my hand and moves on with his task.
I take a deep breath when the urge to grab my girl and haul ass back to the privacy and security of the storage room swells. She almost makes it impossible to avoid when I see her approaching from the corner of my eye. Wrapping her arm around mine, she folds into me, snuggling close, and I tip my head, resting my cheek on top of her head. “You ready for this, buttercup?” I ask. She pulls away slowly, and her bright blue eyes sparkle as she looks up at me. With the possibility of massive changes headed our way, I’m anxious but excited and happy at the same time. Having Charlotte happily beside me makes all the difference.
“I’ve never been more proud or excited. Let’s do this, hotshot; I’m ready if you are,” she says.
Stealing a kiss before tucking her under my arm, we walk toward our seats, stopping for a few good-luck handshakes offered to me along the way. Even more people congratulate our engagement and want a glimpse of the new bling Charlie is sporting proudly. I suppose after tonight, our engagement will be public information, but I’m fine with that. I see no problem with the entire world knowing this girl is mine.
The screen lights up, and the sound filters in through the speakers around the room. Quickening our pace through the people surrounding the big screen and seating area, I guide us to the front row direct center. Coach Jacobs stands as we walk up, straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat. With a gleam of pride in his eyes, he reaches over the chairs, extending his arm toward me to offer his hand to shake. Honored to have him here with me, I grasp his hand, shifting myself between the chairs to pull him in for an embrace.
“Thanks for coming, Coach. It means everything to me to have you here with me. I wouldn’t be here without you, and I know it. Thank you for that . . . Thanks for everything, sir.”
“I couldn’t be more proud of you, Tyler. No matter what happens next, in my eyes, no one has ever deserved this more than you do. We love you, son.” His voice cracks as he finishes, full of withheld emotion.
I don’t loosen my grip on our embrace. “Love you too, Coach. I mean that.” He gives me one last powerful pat on the back and squeeze before we separate. He greets and hugs my girl while I greet his wife, Leslie, with a big hug, proceeding to relay my thanks and love to her as well before we all take our seats.
Waiting for action on the screen, we listen to the chatter all around us, but Charlie and I silently hold on tightly to one another’s hand. No matter what happens next, I’ve already won.
***
Trying not to pay any attention to the cameras focused on me, I pretend Charlie and I are watching the draft alone. It’s so much easier to deal with that picture than the reality that every eye in the room is watching my reaction. The MLB commissioner has called the first two picks already before the commercial break.
I’m anxious, no doubt, but just as I would in most other scenarios, I put on my game face. If anyone wants to read me, they’ll have to guess because I’m not giving any clues. When the program returns from commercial, the conversations quiet again. The commissioner walks across the stage toward the podium in the center of the screen. Charlie stealthily gives my hand a soft squeeze, offering support but mostly reminding me she’s there.
Pausing momentarily, the commissioner speaks into the microphone.
“With the third selection in the 2016 MLB Draft, the Atlanta Braves select Tyler Stone, a pitcher from the University of South Carolina. The Colorado Rockies have the next pick.”
There are cheers from all around us. I feel congratulatory jabs in my shoulders and biceps, many pats on the back, a few shaking my shoulders excitedly, hoping to get my attention, but right now, I’m celebrating with my girl who jumped out of her seat cheering and straight to my arms.
“You did it, hotshot. I knew you would. I love you, Ty. Congratulations.”
I’M THRILLED FOR TYLER. I never doubted for a second that a team would select him. The whole building is exploding with frenzied cheering from everyone who’s come out tonight to support our hotshot baseball star. He’s played the part of a hometown celebrity for a while, and now, he’s moving up to the big leagues. He’s going to live his dream. After working so hard for this opportunity, he’s watching his dream materialize, and I couldn’t be more excited and happy for him.
I glance at the big screen and see Ty and myself on the program before the cameras switch to pan the energetic crowds that have gathered in the restaurant and in the parking lot. This is amazing.
Growing up, I was accustomed to witnessing swarms of people gathering in support of my father as he was climbing the political ladder, but it never felt this exhilarating or filled me with this amount of pride.
Ty still has me in his embrace after we hear the announcement on the big screen, and Scott hands him the cell phone. We were prepped that once the selection announcement for Ty was made, Ty would immediately receive a phone call from the scout or representative for the team, and that would likely be televised. Pressing the phone to his ear, he listens to the person on the other end of the line with a huge grin, not taking his eyes off me. I know he’s trying to make sure I feel as much a part of this with him, and how could I not? It’s like we’re in our own little world. My toes curl while the butterflies in my stomach take flight when he speaks into the phone, thanking the person and talking briefly before passing the phone back to Scott with a nod. Scott proudly slaps Ty on the back before he takes the phone, and Scott walks away, speaking again to the scout.
I guess this means Scott is no longer just Ty’s advisor, and he’ll be signing the incredible Tyler Stone officially as a client and acting as Ty’s agent from here on out. Regardless of how many times he’s watched or been a part of his players transitioning to the professionals, I’m sure this is just as exciting for Scott. From what Tyler’s said, and thankfully for us, Scott’s one of the best and most respected agents in the business. He’ll have Ty’s best interests at heart, and Ty trusts that he’s the right person for the job and going to do a great job. From what I’ve seen, I agree. Scott obviously has a great deal of respect for Ty, and it certainly doesn’t hurt they both really like each other and value one another’s ideas and opinions.
Ty takes my hand, pulling me along with him as he walks us through the room. He graciously accepts celebratory praises from the friends and family we pass as we head toward the staff-only door Scott slipped behind seconds ago. Soaking in every detail of this moment with a thrill of satisfaction and gratitude, I’m in awe witnessing the well-deserved attention and accolades he receives. He spends a few minutes talking to people, but I can feel that he’s anxious to step away for a moment with Scott.
I follow my guy easily with a springy bounce to my step through the door, and we find Scott in the hall on the phone. I expect Ty to stop and get debriefed on the conversation when Scott hangs up or, at the very least, stop and listen to what’s going on, but he doesn’t. With a nod of his head and his trademark worthy side-smile, he tips his head in Scott’s direction doing tha
t weird head lift, tilt, nod thing that guys do. Scott responds similarly to Ty, clearly communicating in some odd guy-speak way, leaving me completely puzzled.
“Ty, where are we going? What just happened? What does that head bob-nod thing you and Scott just did mean? And where are we going?” I hastily inquire, somewhat alarmed that he’s moving toward the door.
Chuckling softly, he stops and turns to face me. Surprisingly gentle, his mouth covers mine in a slow drugging kiss, making my body sing.
This guy. I’m completely hypnotized by him.
Will he ever stop sweeping me off my feet and amazing me?
“I’m taking you home. We’ve done what we came for, and the only reward I want is you. All alone. Now, let’s get out of here, buttercup.”
Walking again and pulling me toward the back exit, I realize I’m still confused. We’re parked out front, so where is he going? Can we really leave without saying goodbye to everyone? I think that might be really rude. The party is still going strong, and the draft is not even close to halfway through.
“Um . . . hotshot, we’re not parked out back. I think you’re going the wrong way, but we can’t leave anyway. As appealing as the prospect of alone time with you might be, this party is in your honor. I really don’t think it’s okay for the guest of honor to ditch an entire room full of people before the draft even ends. People including our families and friends, a camera crew, and not to mention Scott, who’s possibly already working to negotiate your contract. I mean . . . what if he has questions for you or wants to talk to you or tell you something?” I plead, pulling my hand away and anchoring my stance in place, determined to make him understand all the reasons we can’t leave yet. Looking at me, his eyes soften, and he closes the space between us, stepping close to me.