Page 96 of Switch Pitching

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

I hear corks pop as I rise on my toes to brush my lips against Ethan’s, his strong arms pulling me tightly against him. The loud, drunken background noise fades into nothing, and I’m consumed by the intensity of the moment as everything else falls away. Right now, it’s only us two.

Ethan tilts my head up and stares at me with his gorgeous eyes, smiling wide.

“Happy New Year, James.”

“Happy New Year.”

I hug Ethan a little tighter, and my head slides under his chin, fitting perfectly like a lock in a key. No matter where our careers take us, we belong together, and Ethan thinks the same.

Whatever happens next, we’ve got this. After all, if it wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t feel so right.

EPILOGUE

ETHAN

NEXT APRIL

Welcome to Boston. Cabin crew, doors to arrival, crosscheck, and all-call.

Flying beats driving, at least between Tampa and Boston. I’m looking forward to two days of recovery before our home opener. We dash out of the plane, grab our luggage, and head for the exit, eager to get home after a long day of traveling.

James winces as we get hit with a blast of unseasonably cold air while leaving the airport. Turning to me, he adopts a pleading expression. “Can we quit baseball and live somewhere warm?”

I laugh. “We have one season’s worth of savings. Let’s revisit that next year.”

After leaving Toronto in January, we spent two amazing weeks in Panama. James and I were both craving time alone with each other after going to Machias and then Toronto. I loved the constant sunshine, while James got a kick out of teaching me the wildest, most inappropriate phrases in Spanish and trying to trick me into saying them out loud. Much to his disappointment,I reminded him that I learned Spanish in high school and that I can’t be fooledthateasily.

Things between us are going great. While we aren’t completely ready to come out to the whole world, we don’t exactly hide ourselves away, either. Letting the team, and the public, draw their own conclusions about us is the most comfortable option, at least for now.

All that aside, James and I are both primed, ready, and relaxed for the upcoming season. James books us a car to take us back to the apartment, and before long, we’re being whisked up to the 37th floor in the private elevator I’ve come to know so well.

I unlock the door and step into the entryway. “Home sweet home, just the way we left it.”

James offers a small smile before silently heading up to our room to unpack. Between the whirlwind of seeing family, traveling, and spring training, we were speaking to our agents about extending our contracts with Boston. Both of us got renewed provisionally for the next season, but we’d like a bit more stability.

And no-trade clauses. For sure. James and I are staying together no matter what, but I’d be way happier if we keep playing in the same city. Those clauses aren’t necessarily rare, but they aren’t guaranteed, either. All we can do is sit back and wait for whatever news comes out of Ashley, who is now a key point of contact between us and the team.

I’m fixing myself a sandwich in the kitchen when James comes back.

“That was fast,” I say.

James laughs. “Unpacking can wait. I need some Ethan time.”

Smiling, I step back from the counter to give him space. He sidles up and snakes his arms under mine, tightening them around my back.

“Mmm.” He sighs, then squeezes me some more. “Time to make up for the last six hours of being in public.” James leans up to plant a soft kiss on my lips before going back to nuzzling my chest. He always knows exactly how to make me melt, and I hug him back.

“I gotta take advantage of our time together, just in case,” he says. “I just want toknow.”

“We’ll find out soon enough. Ashley said she’d call us with an update today, right?”

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