Six years later
“He’s here!”
The excited whispers of my team filtered through the conversation I was having with Denning, my assistant coach. I glanced up from the tablet we’d been using to go over stats.
Jax was walking toward us in workout gear with a big grin on his face.
“Holy shit, it’s Jax Crawford!”
“Language, Russ,” I said more out of habit than anything.
My team consisted of kids between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, and while the league discouraged swearing, I didn’t bother doing more than correcting them. I’d said a lot worse when I was their age.
“Sorry, Coach,” Russ, one of my newbie pitchers, said. He stared at Jax, who hopped the fence and walked onto the field.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Had some time off and wanted to come by and play some ball.” He slung his arm over my shoulders. “That okay with you, Coach?”
“I suppose.” I pursed my lips like he was putting me out.
Jax and I did this at the beginning of every new season. The kids loved getting the chance to play alongside a pro player and pepper him with questions about how he’d gotten to where he was.
I liked that it gave the kids a chance to see us interacting as a couple in a low-stress environment.
Our relationship wasn’t a secret and hadn’t been for years.
The story had leaked halfway through Jax’s rookie season, and the next year, we’d been hounded by reporters and publications.
The frenzy around Jax being an out player had died out, and now people mostly left us alone. When we went to events together, we still got looks or questions, but it was nothing compared to the shit storm we’d had to deal with when we’d first made headlines.
“What do you guys think?” Jax asked my team. “How about a scrimmage?”
“You’re going to play with us?” Danny, my youngest player, asked, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
“If you’d like.” He grinned.
“You guys want to keep doing drills or do a scrimmage?” I asked the team.
“SCRIMMAGE!”
Both Jax and I jumped back at the sheer volume of their answers.
“Okay.” I laughed and turned to Denning. He’d known Jax was coming by and had the equipment out and ready. “Team list is on the board. Get organized and get out on the field. We’re starting in five minutes.”
The kids rushed into the dugout to check the noticeboard.
“Hey.” Jax pecked a quick kiss against my lips. “Missed you today.”
“Missed you too.” I gave him one more squeeze, then stepped away. Now wasn’t the time to get in some sneaky cuddles. My team and coaching staff were cool with me being with a guy, but we still kept the PDA to a minimum around others.
Jax pulled a pair of batting gloves out of his back pocket.
“Sweet.” I plucked them out of his hand and flipped them over. “I need a new pair of these.”
“Then get your own.” He swiped them out of my grip and held them out of my reach.
“Why would I do that when yours are right there?”
“You’re such a brat.” He shoved the gloves back into his pocket. “Why do I love you again?”
“Because I’m amazing. And it’s your fault for introducing me to your magical Canadian gloves. I wouldn’t need them if they weren’t so awesome.”
Jax raked a hand through his hair, the thin black band around his ring finger catching my eyes.
I ran my thumb over the smooth silicone of my matching ring, grinning like a fool.
After the last game of his rookie season, Jax had asked me to marry him. He’d filled our condo with flowers and had been standing in the middle of our living room in a suit, holding a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.
It had been the most over-the-top and cheesy moment of our entire relationship, and I’d loved every second of his proposal and the celebratory sex and pizza that had followed.
Our wedding had been a small and informal affair, just family and close friends. The media circus surrounding our engagement and marriage had been a pain in the ass to deal with, but we’d learned to treat that stuff as background noise. We did the interviews and put in the face-time at events because it was part of Jax’s job, but our focus was on the important things, like our careers and our friends and family.
My relationship with my family was as good as it had ever been. I’d taken the coward’s way out and waited until midseason before I’d told my dad I wasn’t going to be playing after college and was looking into coaching. He’d had some choice words for me that still stung, and had hung up on me. I’d thought that was it, that I’d lost any chance at a relationship with either of my parents. A few months later, my mother, of all people, had come to visit me at school. We’d gone into Seattle for lunch, since nothing in town was up to her standards, and she’d asked me why I’d decided to stop playing.
I’d told her the truth. That I’d only played because of Dad and it had always been his dream and not mine. I’d also told her about Jax. That we were together and I loved him.
She’d been confused for a few seconds. I’d kind of hoped we’d have one of those moments when the mom said they’d always known or suspected their kid wasn’t straight, but it didn’t happen.
She had, however, accepted it, and that was enough of a win for me.
That night I’d called my dad and blurted the truth out to him too. I’d expected anger or expletives or for him to blame Jax for why I’d given up ball, but he’d given me the shock of a lifetime when he’d asked if Jax was planning to go pro. It seemed my dad didn’t need to brag about me in particular and was satisfied with being able to brag about his son-in-law.
Not that everything had magically gotten better or that we were close now. That hadn’t happened. We had a polite relationship, and we called and sent cards on holidays, but that was it.
It didn’t matter because Jax’s family had adopted me into their fray, and I had all the family I needed with them.
Jax was my everything. My best friend, biggest cheerleader, and my partner in everything. Every annoying reporter or unflattering story was worth it to get to come home to Jax’s waiting arms and see his smiles every day.
Being the partner of a Major League ball player wasn’t easy. There were long absences while he was traveling and times when our schedules were so off that we barely saw each other, despite living in a two-bedroom condo. The team wives and girlfriends were great and had accepted me into their group, but as the only male among them, I often felt out of my element.
Jax’s team had also welcomed me into their ranks. Being a player and coach helped me fit in, but they’d put the effort in to making sure that not only Jax was included in things but I was too.
Life wasn’t perfect, but it was better than I’d ever dreamed it could be.
“Emerson asked if he could get a ride tonight. I said that was fine,” Jax said.
“Yeah, no problem.”
One of Jax’s teammates lived in our building and liked to use me as their DD when we went out. Tonight the team was celebrating one of their veteran player’s birthdays. Not many ball players were still playing at thirty-five, and the team had rented out a trendy downtown restaurant for the night.
“Coach Crawford!”
My entire team fanned out behind me, their gloves on and their faces bright with excitement.
“You guys ready?” I asked.
“Yeah!” they shouted.
“Home team, on the field and start your warm-ups. Visitors, into the dugout.”
The boys scampered off.
“Ready to lose, Crawford?” Jax asked, a gleam in his eyes.
“You may be the big shot ball player, but this is my team and my turf. You’re going down.”
“You think so?” He quirked a brow at me.
“I know so.” I shot him a sugary sweet smile.
“Hmmmmm.” He stepped closer and put his lips to my ear. “I think we need to put a wager on it if you’re that confident.”
“Hel-heck, yeah.” I lowered my voice. “If I win, you have to wear that new jock I got you to dinner.”
“Done. But if I win, you have to wear that red set I love under your suit tonight.”
“Can’t do that.” I sighed regretfully.
“Conceding already?” He grinned.
“Nope, just can’t wear the red set tonight because I’m wearing it now.”
Jax’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Really?”
“Yup.” I winked. “Sorry not sorry.”
He gave me a heated look. “Then I want to see you in the yellow set.”
“Deal. Prepare to lose.”
“In your dreams.”
“And they’ll be great ones too.” I winked. “Come on, superstar. Time to play some ball.”
He gave my ass a playful slap and jogged past me to get into position behind first base.
I did a quick sweep of the field, my chest so full it felt like my heart would burst. This was the life I’d always dreamed of, and I was so thankful that twenty-one-year-old me had taken a chance and set me on the course for all this to be possible.
I had my best friend, who was also my partner and the love of my life, and baseball. What more could I ask for?
