Page 78 of Under Pressure

“Brave? Alarmingly outgoing may be a more accurate term. Brielle can put on a good show, though, and she actually loves this kind of thing. I use her as a buffer so I don’t wind up smashing my forehead into a wall.”

“What do you do if she’s not here, then?”

“Hide. Or tell Finn I’ll wait for him in the parking lot.”

An unexpected laugh crawls up my throat. “At least they seem nice. I expected the wives to be kinda rude and unwelcoming.”

“Maybe for other teams, but not ours. If you can put up with the overly bubbly personalities and borderline psychotic interrogations, they’re nice women.”

“I’ve never been one to enjoy bubbly,” I admit.

She locks her phone and tucks it into her pocket. Her eyes fall on me, and there’s a sense of camaraderie in them that makes me feel like I can trust her. It’s a nice feeling and not at all common for me.

“Me either.”

“Really? I’ve met Finn a few times, and he’s pretty bubbly.”

Her lips tug up at the corners. “And Beck? He’s not bubbly to you?”

“Fair enough,” I relent.

“Real talk, it can get overwhelming sometimes. But they’re worth the difference in personality. I’d slip into long depressive hibernations if it weren’t for Finn.”

“It doesn’t ever get too much?”

She tilts her head a bit, thinking it over. “No. Because when you’re in love with someone, they should be able to read you and your emotions. If they see you’re uncomfortable or overwhelmed and they continue to push instead of offering a hand out of the panic, then they deserve the snappy words or the attitude. It takes time to get there, though. Roman and Brielle are the opposite. He’s the broody, reclusive one, and she’s the one who loves to talk and go out. He grounds her, and she encourages him to step outside of his comfort zone so he doesn’t get all grouchy and closed off. For my relationship, it’s the opposite. Maybe that’s why me and Elle are such good friends, too.”

I take in every word, trying to find some way to relate them to what’s going on with Beck and me. It’s easy to find the similarities, and that terrifies me. Because I know that he pushes me to open up and go out and do things that I wouldn’t have usually done. I’m at a baseball game, for fuck’s sake. But do I ground him, or do I just annoy him with my inability to give in and just let things be easy?

My thoughts are cut short when male voices start flooding the suite. I tense on instinct as multiple unfamiliar people enter and cheer, in addition to the women and kids. The win was well earned, according to my friends, so it’s fitting that they’d be excited.

It looks like everyone’s showered and changed by now, so it doesn’t start stinking like a high school gym. Instead, different colognes mix with perfume and the popcorn that’s popping in the machine off to the side of the drink station. Aubrey disappears from my side the moment Finn finds us, and I try not to stare as he winds his arms around her and tugs her flush againsthis chest. He doesn’t waste any time ducking his head to kiss her, and I look away instantly.

“There you are,” Beck says, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I turn, then stumble when I hit his chest. He doesn’t hesitate to tuck me under his arm and guide me into his body. His breath ghosts my ear when he slides the other around my hip and holds me in place.

“This is the part where you hug me back and tell me how proud you are, baby.”

My laugh is sudden and unexpected, yet feels right in the moment. I don’t question whether anyone’s looking at us or whispering about why I’m only now wrapping my arms around his huge torso. It’s like our kiss all over again.

Beck, Beck, and only Beck.

“You didn’ttotallysuck.”

I hope to God he can’t feel me smiling against his hoodie when his chest vibrates in response.

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

29

“Bingo?”

I ease off the brake when the light turns green. Traffic is a nightmare after a game, especially in the afternoon. I keep the tinted windows rolled up when we pass a group of fans huddled together at a crosswalk and lean my elbow against the door, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel.

“I know you’re probably tired. It was Ruthie’s idea, and this is the first time she’s ever really wanted us to go do anything together with her that an actual couple would. Not that bingo is something I’d typically suggest,” Quinn rambles, gripping her knee. “You don’t have to say yes. I tried to tell her that it wouldn’t work, but she’s not the easiest person to turn down.”

I was already going to say yes.