Chapter 20

My mom,Willow, and I stepped into the brightly lit boutique, the scent of vanilla and freshly ironed silk enveloping us. Rows of shimmering dresses in every color greeted us as we made our way to the back of the store.

"Oh Chandler, look at this one!" Willow held up a lavender gown, her blue eyes glowing with excitement. "This would look gorgeous with your hair."

I smiled, appreciating her enthusiasm. Dress shopping wasn't my favorite activity, but I knew how much this meant to my mom. And if I was being honest, the thought of walking into the ball on the arm of Reese Carrington made my heart flutter.

"Go try it on!" Mom encouraged, ushering me towards the fitting room.

I must have tried on twenty dresses, none feeling quite right, before emerging in a strapless chiffon gown in a soft pink hue. My mom and Willow gasped.

"That's the one," Willow declared.

I turned and caught my reflection in the mirror, the skirt swirling gently around my feet. I imagined Reese's face when he saw me in it, his eyes lighting up. This was the perfect dress.

The ball was going to be magical. I just knew it.

As I peeled off my dress in the changing room, I could hear my mom's voice carrying on a conversation with someone on the phone.

"Cindee! It's so wonderful to hear your voice," Mom said, and I froze, recognizing the name. Boston's mom. "Yes, tonight's the big game, and I just wanted to make sure you're still coming. You know how much this means to him."

I leaned against the wall, peering around the curtain, watching as Mom's eyes closed briefly in what seemed like a silent prayer. Her fingers drummed lightly on the armrest, betraying her calm demeanor. Representatives from the MLB would be there, and we all knew a good performance could set his future ablaze with opportunities.

"Of course, I understand. It's quite the drive," Mom continued, nodding even though Ms. Riley couldn't see. "But you won't miss it. Oh, that's fantastic!"

The sigh of relief that Mom exhaled was palpable, and her shoulders relaxed. She caught sight of me peeking around the corner and waved me over with a bright smile, mouthing the words ‘She's coming' with barely contained joy.

"Alright, dear. Drive safe, and see you soon. We'll save you a seat," Mom concluded, placing the phone back in her purse. She turned to me, excitement dancing in her eyes. "Cindee is on her way."

"Perfect," I breathed out, the nervous flutter in my stomach easing somewhat. I couldn't believe that she was actually going to make it to a summer game, and the most important one. For Boston, tonight would be unforgettable. And knowing that his mom would be there in the stands made my heart lighter, too. After all, no victory would taste as sweet without sharing it with those who cheered for you the loudest.

I sank into the plush velvet of the sofa. Across from me, my mom perched on an identical couch, her eyes were soft and brimming with unspoken thoughts.

"Chandler," she began, her voice carrying that maternal tone, "I was still a little taken back that you are going to this with Reese Carrington." She folded her hands in her lap, her wedding band catching the light. "He"s not who I would have pictured you with."

I couldn"t suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Who did you picture me with, Mom? That tight end you love?" I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Pretty sure he's taken."

We shared a moment, a silent understanding knowing how much she always gushed over him. She had a tendency to only watch football when her favorite player was on the screen. Her lips twitched, fighting back a smile before she laughed. "Oh, Chandler," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "That would be a disaster. If you were with him, you would never get anything done around the house. You"d always be laughing."

I leaned back, my fingers tracing a pattern into the arm of the sofa. "Sounds like a divorce waiting to happen," I conceded with a half-smile.

"But seriously," she continued, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Reese has always caused some trouble. With Boston... and even Parker in the past."

I met her eyes steadily. "I know, Mom." My voice was firm. "But Reese—he"s a lot different than he seems."

She sighed, a soft exhale of understanding. "I understand that, honey. Just... be careful, okay?" Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against mine in a fleeting gesture of caution.

Those words were becoming too familiar. "I will, Mom," I assured her, though the edges of my patience were beginning to fray. I was getting tired of people saying that to me. I was tired of the warning that hung over my head like a storm cloud.

A few hours later, the lights of the baseball field cut through the dusk, illuminating the neatly lined chalk and the crowd gathering in the stands. The energy was electric as players from both teams warmed up on the field, tossing balls back and forth to loosen up their arms.

"Chandler, look over there," my dad whispered, nudging me gently in the ribs with his elbow.

"Where?" I followed his gaze toward several people taking their seats.

"Guy in the red shirt, a couple rows behind us." He tilted his head slightly to direct my attention. "He"s on the coaching staff for the Atlanta Braves."

I nodded, my stomach fluttering with excitement. The possibility that any of them could be one step closer to their dreams sent a surge of nervous energy through me.

My eyes found Boston in the dugout, laughing with some teammates. He seemed loose and relaxed, his blonde hair windswept as usual. Then I noticed Reese standing nearby, an intense look of focus on his face as he watched the players on the field. His jaw was clenched and his eyes blazed with competitive fire.

"Reese looks ready to dominate out there," I remarked.

Dad agreed. "Yeah, I'm sure they're all feeling the pressure."

I hoped they would shine under the stress and knew they all had what it took to play at the pro level. Win or lose, there's no way anyone could deny the talent on that team.

The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the starting lineup. It was time. The boys jogged out onto the field, game faces on. I tilted my head, scanning the crowd for one person I really wanted to find. Just then, like a stroke of fate, Boston's mom weaved her way through the crowd, giving us a sense of relief. She slipped into the seat beside me, the space we'd been guarding with our lives.

"Made it," she breathed out, giving a faint smile as she settled in.

"Hi, Ms. Riley," I greeted, but my eyes darted to Boston, who just took his shortstop position. He looked in our direction, and for a split second, I could see his shoulders relax ever so slightly. Relief washed over his features—comforted by his mother's presence.

Reese stood on the mound, rubbing the baseball between his fingers.

"Think he's gonna throw a no-hitter today?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual, eyes glancing back and forth from Reese to Boston.

"Definitely," I replied, though I wondered why she was asking about Reese when tonight could easily be a huge game for Boston. Something else also tugged at my attention. Ms. Riley had always been the epitome of vibrancy, her cheers the loudest, her spirit infectious. Today, she was different. Her hair, usually flowing freely, was pulled back under a baseball cap.

"New hat?" I prodded gently, trying to gauge her mood.

"Oh, this?" She reached up, self-consciously touching the brim. "Yeah, just grabbed something on my way out."

"I have never seen you wear a hat," I teased.

She managed a half-smile instead, her eyes flickering away. "Thought I'd try something... low-key today."

"Low-key" wasn't a word in Ms. Riley's vocabulary, not when it came to supporting Boston. An uneasy feeling coiled in my stomach, but before I could inquire further, the umpire bellowed, "Play ball!" and the game snapped into motion. Ms. Riley clapped her hands, albeit softly, her eyes tracing every pitch and swing with an intensity that belied her subdued demeanor.

I watched her as much as I watched the game, and in those moments, the threads of worry began to weave a pattern I couldn't quite decipher. Something was off, but the why of it remained just beyond reach, hidden beneath the brim of a baseball cap and the forced curve of her smile.

Reese grinned as he took the mound and gave Parker a nod, his dark hair catching the sunlight as he turned. His athletic body tensed, preparing for the pitch. As his arm drew back, I noticed the pendant necklace he always wore glinted against his chest. With a sudden burst of speed, Reese's arm whipped forward, releasing the baseball in a blur. It rocketed through the air, cleaving a path straight towards home plate. Parker snapped his glove out and the ball smacked into the leather with a satisfying thwack.

"Can you believe that pitch?" I asked my parents, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Can't deny his talent," Mom agreed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Wow," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the next ball's trajectory. It was the fastest pitch I had ever seen, and it left me feeling more in awe of Reese than I had ever been before. The sheer power, the precision—it all added to his undeniable attractiveness.

As the game continued, I couldn't help but watch Reese with newfound appreciation. Each pitch, each swing of the bat–-it all showcased his incredible talent. Whether he knew it or not, every move he made on that field only drew me closer to him, making it impossible to deny the growing attraction between us.

"Reese is really bringing the heat," my dad commented from next to me, his eyes tracking the game intently. "And Parker's got a cannon behind the plate. They make a good battery."

"Yeah," I agreed. "They're a great team."

I glanced at the guy in the red shirt, who looked impressed, before he whispered something to the person next to him. It was clear that he noticed Reese and Parker's chemistry, too. I wondered who else had caught his eye so far. If Reese kept this up, he'd certainly be on his radar, but I wasn't quite sure if Boston would make an impression tonight, and I knew how badly he deserved it.

"Strike three!" the umpire bellowed.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Reese pumped his fist. It was now the bottom of the third inning and Reese hadn't allowed any hits so far. I watched him walk back to the dugout, scanning the bleachers until his eyes landed on me, shortly before Blair caught his attention.

"Reese!" Blair called out, making him pause. "You got this!"

With a wink toward the bleachers, he disappeared into the dugout.

A pang of jealousy hit me as Blair flashed a smile and batted her long eyelashes at Reese. I scowled and turned away. There were more important things happening that I needed to focus on. I found myself leaning forward in anticipation once more as Boston stepped up to bat. My stomach churned. Boston had two balls caught already today. Another bad at-bat and his opportunity to be noticed could be toast.

The crack of the bat echoed through the stadium as Boston sent the ball sailing into the outfield. He took off and rounded first, then second. The crowd roared, urging him on. The third base coach was waving frantically, and Boston put on a final burst of speed, as he slid into third in a cloud of dust.

I looked over at the guy in the red shirt again. He sat up straighter and then typed something into his phone. I clenched my fists, heart pounding. His focused expression was intent on the game, jaw clenched. He lived for these moments.

The next batter made it on first, and Boston slid into home plate. The next few innings our team continued to shut down the batters and bring in a few more runs keeping us ahead. The crowd erupted into cheers after the final out was made in the last inning.

I joined in, clapping and hollering, but through the raucous celebration, one thing stood out to me—the silence that came from beside me. Ms. Riley's hands came together in a gentle clap, completely unlike her.

"They just won!" I shouted trying to lift her spirits.

She offered a weak smile, nodding appreciatively. "Yes, they did great," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the noise.

I frowned, watching her as she rose hurriedly, her movements edged with an eagerness to leave.

"Are you not going to wait for Boston?" I asked, surprised by her rush.

She glanced back, her eyes skirting mine. "I'll just wait for him by the car, honey. It's been a long day."

Her response felt like a brush-off, and my concern spiked as I watched her weave through the crowd, head down, her cap pulled lower.

I knew something was off but I still couldn't contain my excitement as I rushed from the stands onto the field. I ran straight to Parker and threw my arms around his neck. "You did it!" I squealed. Parker laughed and spun me around. I caught a glimpse of Boston jogging over, his wavy blonde hair damp with sweat. Letting go of Parker, I leapt at Boston, nearly knocking him over.

"Whoa there," he said, steadying himself. His icy blue eyes crinkled as he smiled down at me.

"I'm so proud of you!" I said.

For a moment, Boston held me tighter, his hand lingering at the small of my back as I melted into his gaze before the team engulfed us in a massive group hug, hollering and cheering.

As we pulled apart, Boston kept his eyes on me, like he wanted to say something more. But then the guys tackled him again, and the moment slipped away.

I felt a hand lightly grab mine which surprised me. I turned to find Reese's intense eyes burning into mine.

"Hey, you," he whispered, pulling me close as he swept me up into his strong arms. I could feel the energy radiating off him from the game mixed with his charm, and I knew that I was powerless against it.

"Well, well, looks like you"ve actually impressed me," I teased with a wink.

"Oh, I'm just getting started." His voice dropped into a low, seductive tone before he insisted we celebrate at his house tonight. "The team will be there and I want you there too," he added with a sly grin. How could I resist that smile?

"Of course!" I agreed, my mind still fluttering with excitement over the game. "I'll be there."

The team whooped and hollered, already heading for the parking lot. I walked between Parker and Boston, our arms linked together. I was still caught between the excitement of the win and the mystery of Ms. Riley's uncharacteristically muted behavior. By the time I reached the parking lot, I watched Boston greet her with an embrace beside her sedan under the dim glow of a streetlight.

"Mom, you sure you're okay?" Boston's voice carried across the quiet lot.

"Of course, sweetheart," she said, pulling back from the hug. "I'm so proud of you. You played phenomenal tonight."

"Thanks, Mom. Are you staying so we can celebrate?"

She patted his cheek affectionately, avoiding his gaze. "I wish I could, honey. It's going to be so late by the time I get home, and I've got work early tomorrow. You understand, right?"

Boston nodded, though his brow creased with the same concern I felt. "Yeah, I guess. Just... drive safe, okay?"

"Always do," she said, forcing a brighter tone. She opened her car door and slid inside before adding, "I'll call you tomorrow!"

With that, she started the engine and drove off into the night, leaving us all behind as if she couldn't get out of this town fast enough.