Page 78 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
He stares at me. “If it were up to me, you’d date a figure skater who has zero connection to baseball. Or a professor of, I don’t know, French literature. But love doesn’t work that way. You like who you like, and you love who you love. My job, man, is to make sure you come across smelling like a million dollars. So give me some time to line up cologne that smells like money and good deals.”
“Fair enough.”
“And then you can post a ton of shots of you and Thompson’s daughter making googly eyes at each other as you drink coffees by the Golden Gate Bridge.”
“Are you mocking my Instagram feed?”
“I am indeed.”
That I can handle. “A few more days is fine,” I say.
Tonight, I’ll tell Reese that I’m getting closer.
Before batting practice, Thompson strides into the locker room. Everyone goes quiet. We know why this series with the Storm Chasers is so important. They’re the last team the Dragons beat in the World Series a couple of years ago.
The series where the Dragons cheated. When they stole signs.
The series that would later reveal them to be the frauds they were.
“Storm Chasers are here. They want blood.” Thompson paces the room. “But we’re going to show them we’re not the same team. We didn’t cheat. We’re not the ones who defiled the glorious game of baseball.”
The guys nod and murmur their agreement.
Gunnar crosses his arms over his chest. I bet he’s thinking how he’s one step removed from the Dragons on account of his half brother, their former right fielder, who’s no longer playing pro ball.
“So, when they trash talk you when they’re on first base, when they mutter and swear when they’re at the plate, what are you going to do?”
“Keep our chins up,” I say. That’s true for the game and true for when I have my man-to-man with Thompson. But those sorts of convos don’t occur before games. The unwritten code is that game time, and the moments before it, is sacred.
You don’t air your dirty laundry.
You don’t ask for forgiveness.
You put your goddamn game face on.
He points at me. “That’s exactly right. Be better than that. They’re angry. They want revenge. But it’s not against you men. It’s against the organization—the idea of cheating. We’re moving past that. Hold your heads up high and don’t give in.”
But the Storm Chasers are surprisingly chill.
For the most part.
The first baseman lays a hard tag on Gunnar in his first at bat, but that’s all.
Beyond that, they don’t play dirty. They play clean, winning the first game.
That sucks, but my post-game plans don’t.
I see Reese that night at my place and give her the download on the Josh meeting in the afternoon, including what I realized.
“And it hit me—the training you gave me was what I needed. Everything you said made sense. This only looks bad if we let it look bad. But saying it, making it public, telling the true story matters,” I say, clasping her hand tightly for emphasis.
She beams. “I love that you feel that way. And that you have your agent’s support.”
“He wants me to wait a few more days. Just so he can mull over what it’ll mean for the deals he’s working.”
“Sounds smart.” She draws a deep breath. “So, does this mean you’re going to say something to my father?” Her voice is thin, threaded with nerves.
“That’s the only way to do it, right?”
She sighs, then nods. “It is. But you’re telling him, right? We don’t need to do it together?”
“Of course. I need to be the one to do it. It’s my issue, and he’s my manager. That’s what you want?”
She squeezes my hand harder. “I do.”
“Good.” I pull her close. “Want to know what else I told Josh?”
“Sure,” she says, a smile still on her beautiful face.
I slide a hand through her hair and say the easiest words ever. “That I’m in love with you.”
Her eyes brighten to the most gorgeous shade of blue. “Oh, Holden, I’m so in love with you.”
We kiss, and I don’t care that we lost the game. I don’t care at all.
Not with her here in my arms.
Not as we head to the bedroom, strip down to nothing, and tangle our bodies together. She pulls me close, asking me to be on top. “I want to be underneath you. I love feeling the weight of you,” she whispers, reminding me of the night she let me be her first, the words she shared.
“What do you know? I love that too. And you, beautiful.”
Like that, I make love to her, and it feels like another first time.
And I suppose it is.
The second game is rougher. The Storm Chasers leadoff hitter gets on base, then dives into third, his right hand going straight for Gunnar’s ankle like he’s trying to knock him flat.
