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An anticipation for a game to be over because for the first time in my life, there was somewhere more important I wanted to be. Someone more important than baseball.

I wiped the sweat off my brow as I rolled my neck and waited for the batter to come up to the mound. My eyes skated over to the stadium’s bleachers and immediately locked on Roxie. She was wearing a Sidewinders tee, refusing to wear my jersey because it was too serious and people would think we were more than we actually were.

Joke was on her because we were that.

That and then some.

She was bent at the waist, her elbows resting on her knees as she stared out at the field, the nerves clear in her eyes. For me. She was nervous for me. A small smile started to form on my face. A smile I knew my coaches wouldn’t understand, or maybe they would misinterpret it since we were tied and had two outs already.

I just needed to strike this next batter from Arizona State, and we’d be back in the dugout, and there was no way Jason wouldn’t hit one out of the park the moment he was up to bat.

With the batter in position, my catcher sent me a signal for the kind of pitch he wanted. I nodded. Winding my arm, I threw and held my breath.

“Striiike one!” the umpire called out. The ball was tossed back to me, and I looked down at the pitcher’s mound.

For a moment of clarity, everything started to settled into place, like piece after piece of a puzzle coming together to show me a bigger picture. The one and only place I’d thought I’d ever find happiness and purpose on was that pitcher’s mound.

But I was man enough to admit I’d been wrong.

Wasn’t the first time I’d be wrong, nor the last. Shit happened.

Life showed you all kinds of possibilities, and if you were brave enough to take charge, grabbing the bull of life by the horns to make things happen, you could find so many more damn reasons for happiness than you could have ever imagined.

And I knew what I wanted.

A future with Roxie.

I had no idea what the hell kind of spell my smart-mouthed brat had cast on me, but I was a fucking goner. Three months, three weeks, and six days after Adam and Callie got together, after Roxie and I had hooked up for the first time, life couldn’t have been better.

Almost four months to the goddamn day.

Our time was almost up.

It was a war that had been waging inside of me. One fighting the big picture after a lifetime of working towards one thing and one thing only. But that battle was over. Not to sound cocky, but my spot on a pro team was all but mine. And even if it wasn’t, I had other options. The only thing I wanted was up in those stands.

An easiness settled in my chest as that thing inside me I had been wrestling with diminished. I was grinning when I threw the second time.

“Ball!” the ump called, and a collective sigh sounded from the stadium.

I looked out at Roxie, who was now standing, her hand clutched at her throat as the other rested on her belly. I blinked, and even through the distance I knew she knew I was staring at her. I’d seen so many expressions on her face these last four months. Pleasure. Annoyance. Love. Not that she’d said it, but I knew she felt it.

But there was something going on with her. I’d noticed it a week ago. Edgy. Nervous. I’d chalked it up to the fact she didn’t know how to feel about our agreement coming to an end. Now? Seeing her hand splayed that way over her soft abdomen... I wasn’t so sure.

I blinked and could have sworn she nodded slowly, her eyes full of hope and fear and something else as I soaked in what that little gesture meant.

Is she… could she be…

I threw the ball. The hard thud of Jeremy catching it sounded.

“Strike two!” the umpire called, and my head spun.

I’d just been on the plate reflecting about how good life was. How fucking great it was because I couldn’t think about anything but wrapping this goddamn game up and heading home with my girl.

Not that she actually admitted she was my girl. What could I say? My honey bun had a stubborn streak a mile wide. And I fucking loved every centimeter of it. She moved her hand from her soft stomach and slipped it into her jeans pocket.

Does she mean we are…

Shit. Almost four months of fucking her raw, breeding her, pouring every single load into her that I could. She’d had her period two months ago, but after that... Could this be happening? Or was I totally misreading the situation? I did the match in my head as quickly as I could, my heart stuttering in my chest.