Epilogue

Post Season

"Hey, handsome." I watch as Cody startles at the sound of my voice. He's sitting inside the dugout at Charles Schwab Stadium dressed in joggers and a black hoodie, his hands clasped and hanging between his legs as he stares out over the field. His signature backward hat sits on top of his head. Smiling, I take a second to take in my boyfriend on the eve of his biggest game.

The Eagles made it to Omaha, home of the College World Series. To say that I'm proud of him—and the team—would be an understatement.

Tomorrow, well today, will be the biggest game of their lives. It's the final game of the College World Series. The winner goes home with the hardware. It's been a very long postseason run over the last four-and-a-half weeks. Seventeen games have been played in multiple locations. With an early loss during the conference tournament, The Eagles were able to walk away champs.

That only fueled their fire. Since then, they've dominated the Regionals, Super Regionals, and so far, the College World Series. Thankfully, the series is the best out of three because the boys suffered a tight two-to-one loss yesterday.

But today is a new day.

The atmosphere around the team feels like the pressure change of an incoming storm. Energy radiates in the air. Restlessness is taking over. This is why when I rolled over in my bed and felt a cold spot where my boyfriend should be lying, I sat up concerned. When Cody wasn't in our room, I had an idea or two where he might be. My first thought was to check the hotel gym. It felt like a poetic moment since that's where he found me so many weeks ago. Cody seems to be creating a lot of full-circle moments since we had a moment in Charleston. When the gym was empty, I knew he'd be at the stadium visualizing.

And I was right.

Cody's face lights up. "Hey, beautiful. How'd you get in here?"

His eyes track my movement as I make my way closer to him. Lifting my press badge, he nods. "Makes sense."

"I also bribed the security guard with an Oreo blizzard. I figured everyone likes Oreos and ice cream." He chuckles, and the sound warms my soul. For the past two weeks, I've watched the man I love pour every ounce of his energy into the game that he loves.

As I go to walk past him, his hand reaches out and pulls me down onto my lap. Seated on his thigh, my hands rest in between his spread ones as his arm wraps around me. I melt against his side and the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace.

"Are you doing okay?" The words are hushed against his neck as I press my lips to his pulse point.

Cody leans down, kissing the top of my head. "Just nervous."

"For the game? Cody, you're going to be amazing. You always are. Just shut the noise out and throw your pitches."

He hums at my response. "It's not just that. My mom is going to be at the game. I saw her text when I got up to pee, and then I couldn't go back to sleep. It'll be the first time I've seen her since…" The words trail off.

Since Charleston.

Since the day I overheard him saying horrible things about me after running into my mom for the first time in fifteen years.

But that was then, and this is now. We've pushed most of the events from that day from our minds. It was a moment neither one of us wanted to relive.

In the time that has passed, Cody has cut off all communication with his father. Leah moved in with the boys four weeks ago so now the pressure of keeping his dad away from her has eased.

His mom took his dad's side, which we both figured, and he hasn't spoken with her since he returned from Charleston, and she tried to come up with excuses for his dad's behavior. He drew a line in the sand and told her that if she couldn't see past the bullshit, Cody didn't want her in his life either. It's been messy, but we've had each other to help ease some of the stress.

While he's had a stressful few weeks, my life has been just as chaotic. The article I wrote on Coach Weber for The Eagles Gazette went viral and went national. It's baffling to me that an article I wrote—about sports, nonetheless—was picked up by a reputable sports broadcast company. Professor Weaver has insisted I stay on as a reporter through the rest of the season, which is why I have a press badge for the College World Series. She also insisted I apply for sports journalism internships, as well as lifestyle options.

I'm still not sure if sports journalism is the direction I want to go, but it doesn't hurt to weigh out all of my options, especially since we have no idea where Cody will be a year from now. While I'm an independent female, I still want to add him into the equation of what I do post-graduation. But that's a worry for next year.

"She wants to meet you." His words interrupt my thoughts as my breath stutters in my chest.

"Sh-she does?" I fumble the words as anxiety creeps in.

He hums his response as his hand coasts up my inner thigh beneath the hem of the T-shirt dress I slipped on. Warmth spreads, licking my body with flames. "But I don't want to talk about her."

"What do you want to talk about?" My voice is raspy with desire. Cody Jacobs has turned me from a shy little bookworm to a fiend who can't get enough of him.

"How about we don't do any talking at all?" His fingers reach the apex of my thighs; in about a second, he's going to discover…

"Chloe Mariano, where are your panties?" Cody says as his finger grazes the outside of my sex.

Breath stuttering, I push the words out as he continues running his finger up and down my slit, drawing out my wetness. "I was in a hurry to get out the door to find you."

He groans at my admission, and I feel him start to rise beneath me. The feeling of him getting aroused because of me will never get old.

His voice drops to a deep, husky whisper as he leans in closer to my ear. "Can you be a good girl and be quiet for me?"

As soon as I nod my head in reply, Cody is plunging two fingers inside me. I gasp and fight the moan that is desperate to escape. Working his fingers in and out, he builds that pleasure deep inside me.

Soft moans escape my lips as I whisper his name. His thumb grazes my clit, and my stomach tightens as my orgasm builds. My walls clench around his fingers as my lips find his neck, needing to occupy my lips before I cry out.

Cody Jacobs is a god on and off the field, and the way he strokes my pussy like he's lining his fingers against the laces of a baseball is otherworldly. The man knows how to use his fingers. His thumb strokes across my clit, applying just enough pressure that has me biting down on the soft, tan flesh of his neck.

A soft chuckle rumbles against my lips as my impending orgasm continues to climb higher and higher. "Bite marks on national television, you're really making sure everyone knows that I'm taken, huh, Wildflower?"

I feel his cock twitch underneath me as I release his skin with a pop. "Shit, I'm sorry."

Sheepishly, I glance up only to find wild, untamed eyes staring back down at me. "Don't. It turns me on that you want to mark me for everyone to see."

He removes his fingers from my soaked sex, and I groan at the loss of his fingers.

"Stand up and turn around," he demands with a light slap on my ass. Quirking my head, I eye him skeptically. "Up, Chlo."

I do as he commands and stand in between his spread legs while Cody reaches into his pocket and removes his wallet, plucking out a foil wrapper in the process. In one swift motion, I watch in admiration as he frees himself from the confines of his sweats as his thick erection bobs free.

Before he has a chance to sheathe himself, I'm dropping to my knees. My eyes find him, and even in the dim light of the dugout, I can see that arrogant smirk quirk across his lips as his eyes darken even more in desire. Reaching forward, I lick him from root to tip before my lips pull everything he has to offer into my greedy mouth.

His approval vibrates throughout his body. "Damn, my Wildflower looks pretty with a mouthful of my cock."

The dirty words only spur me on as I suck on his head before pulling him as deep as I can down my throat, using my hand to pump what I'm unable to. He thrusts harder, hitting me deeper, and I fight the urge to gag. In all our time together, Cody has always made sure that I'm well taken care of. Now on the precipice of one of his biggest games, it's my turn to make my man melt before me.

Continuing my assault, I alternate between licking and sucking while pumping and laving up his taste.

"Wildflower," he grits out the words, thrusting against my face as I hum around his shaft. His cock hits the back of my throat again, and this time it forces me to come up for air. With a deep inhale, I descend back down only to be stopped. Quirking my eyebrow, I look up at the mess of a man before me.

His thumb skates across my swollen lips. "As much as I love these pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I need to be inside you."

Standing to my feet, I watch as Cody slips the condom on. He looks up at me with desire across his face and love in his eyes. There's no doubt in my mind that after all the hell we've been through, the two of us are going to make it through whatever life throws at us.

"C'mere, baby." His voice softens as he reaches his hand out for me to hold while I straddle his lap—in a dugout.

Placing my hands on his shoulder, he lines himself up with my needy entrance. I slowly sink down on his waiting cock. We both moan at the contact as my pussy swallows his erection until I'm fully seated. Our lips find each other, and in that kiss, we pour everything we have into it.

Love. Desire. Lust. Hope. The future.

With his hands gripping my hips, I begin to ride him. Euphoria and white-hot desire spur me on. Rocking my hips slowly, I build the pressure between us knowing that it won't take either of us long to get to the finish line. In this position, Cody fills me up and hits that spot inside me that has me ready to come. Tightness coils in my stomach, and I chase the high. My clit knocks against his pelvis bone, and I have to crash my lips to his to keep from screaming out.

Slipping his hands under my dress, his rough, calloused fingers kiss my skin until he reaches my tight pebbled nips. Twisting and tweaking my peaks between his fingers, my back arches, pushing my boobs closer to him. The action causes me to sink even more on his cock as my head flies back.

"Cody," I grit between my teeth. "It feels so good. Oh my god."

"I know, baby," he pants. "Touch yourself. I'm so close."

Reaching between us, my finger massages my bundle of nerves, and it's seconds before I'm detonating. I continue riding out my orgasm as I feel Cody pump his release into the condom. Chests heaving, we stay like that until both of us have come down from the euphoric, earth-shattering orgasm.

"I love you, Wildflower."

"I love you, too, Cody Jacobs. Now let's go get you a championship."

Hands cup around my face as my knees bounce up and down. The anticipation and stress of this game has me wound tight.

It's the top of the ninth inning; Cody is on the mound with a three-to-one lead over Oklahoma Central University. This game has been a battle of strikes as both pitchers have been throwing their best games. Even though we've given up a run, Nolan and Cody have been in sync all evening with their pitch calls.

Speaking of Nolan, today has been a remarkable game for him. Not only has he manned behind the plate with excellence, but he's hit not one, but two home runs. And even though they were home runs and not grand slams, I still stood at the top of the stairs that led out to the field and did my celebratory dance.

The crowd has been insane this whole game. Beer showers have rung out from the stands after each shut-out inning, or home run, coating the fans around them in warm, sticky beer. The feeling has to be getting quite gross considering it's been in the mid-80s all day with the sun beating down on us. Nothing like caked-on amber liquid coating your already sweaty skin. Hard pass.

The crack of the bat has me snapping my head back to the game before me. I watch with bated breath as the ball sails in the air down the left field side. Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, I watch as the ball lands foul in the stands.

"Shake it off, Jacobs," Coach Weber yells from where he's leaning on the dugout fence. Cody's gaze finds Weber's, and he gives a quick nod, his face hidden behind his glove. I watch as Cody's shoulders lift and lower as if he's physically shaking off the pitch.

"Come on, Cody," I whisper the words out loud for only myself to hear. But it's like the words flew through the air and straight into Cody's ears. His head turns back toward the dugout, and I swear our eyes lock. With a wink, he turns his attention back to home plate where the batter is waiting.

Shaking off the pitch Nolan called, he finally shakes his head yes at a pitch. This could be it. One more strike will give us the last out in the inning, and since we are the home team with the lead, we won't need to bat again. One more pitch could end the game.

From my position in the dugout, I see a slight tweak of his lips into his favorite smirk, the one I love so much, and I know what he's going to throw.

With his feet lined up on rubber atop the pitcher's mound, I watch with my breath caught in my lungs as Cody's feet stride forward. His arm cocks backward as he releases the ball at the same trajectory he always does; however, the velocity of the pitch is much slower than normal.

The batter doesn't see it coming. In one big swing, the bat slices through the air as the ball sails after his swing.

A perfect change up.

The umpire's arm flies out to the side before coming back into position in the signature movement of calling a strike.

A strike.

Strike three, and the batter's out.

That's it.

Holy shit! We just won the College World Series.

Chills break out over my skin as I watch Nolan throw his catcher's helmet and his glove in the air. Cody's shoulders sag in relief as a wide grin spreads across his gorgeous face. Arms fly in the air from the other guys on the field as those left in the dugout are hopping the fence and rushing the stairs fighting to get onto the dirt to celebrate.

Chaos ensues as my eyes fill with tears. Shock has me paralyzed as I watch the team I've grown to love this season celebrate a hard-earned victory. They did it. Snapping myself out of my stupor, I jog out onto the field and soak it all in. Spinning in a circle, I watch as liquid flies into the air, celebratory yelling echoes around the stadium as cheers of "E-A-G L-E-S" start from the crowd.

I'm stuck watching the celebrations when I feel hands grip my waist, and I'm being spun around. Cody's sweat-soaked and red-rimmed eyes fill my line of sight as I throw my arms around his neck, welcoming the sweaty feeling of his skin.

"You did it, baby!" I yell in his ear.

"We fucking did it!"

Yeah, we fucking did it.

This season I got the boy, he got the hardware, I got my self-confidence, and the journalism break. I think it's safe to say that I, Chloe Mariano, got her happily ever after.

Bring it on, universe.

I'm ready for you.

THE END