Page 103 of Home Run

“It’s because of you, you brought the magic…” I replied, drying her wet cheeks as best I could. “You brought it while wearing my shirt.”

Easing out of my arms, she spun a pirouette. My name had never looked so good and while she might be crying because of the baby, the tears brimming in my eyes were all from her and this moment.

“You’re perfect, now let’s go and find the others.” I took her hand, leading her into the middle of the field, the melee of my teammates singing and hugging.

Penn Shepherd had joined us, up on the shoulders of Jupiter and Stone Fields being carried alongside Coach.

Because of his unwavering belief in us as a club, we were headed to the World Series. For the first time ever, the New York Lions had made it through to the top two teams in the MLB to a best-of-seven fight to the crown.

This would be a fight.

Two of New York’s teams pitted against each other, and we planned to come out victorious.

But first we would party.

TWENTY-TWO

TANNER

Just in caseit’s ever brought into question, Penn Shepherd knows how to throw a party.

He was notorious for them, but this was off the rails even for him.

A private members club in lower Manhattan was the venue for tonight, and I only hoped the walls were soundproofed enough the neighbors couldn’t complain, because it startedloudand it was only getting louder.

Servers were walking around carrying trays loaded with Lions-themed cocktails—a HomeRum, the MVP, and King of the Jungle—while magnums of champagne sat in ice buckets on the tables, ready to be opened by anyone who wanted them.

If you didn’t want any of that, you could order anything else at one of the dozen bars dotted around the place—literallyanything—Parker had made it his mission to find something they didn’t have. So far he was unsuccessful.

Plates of fried chicken, burgers, and tacos were being handed out—though you had to be quick with the tacosbefore Boomer Jones got them, and we’d long ago lost Ace to the s’mores station on the roof, where he’d headed with Payton.

It probably had something to do with the fact we’d never won the Championship title before. Tonight’s game was the furthest the Lions had gotten in the season since the 1940s, so it was abigdeal. Everywhere was black and gold as far as the eye could see—if you didn’t know better, you could assume Halloween decorations had been put up, but on closer inspection, it was all New York Lions themed.

Not a spider or broomstick in sight.

I was almost scared of what the party was going to be like when we won the World Series.

Jupiter said it would go on for days.

“Ya know,” slurred Parker, but loud enough I could hear him over thethump thump thumpof the bass as he dropped down hard onto the couch next to me. “I think that’s the one from the atrium.”

My eyes flicked over to the direction he was pointing and the trophy we’d won, now sitting on a large plinth in the middle of the room.

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

“Did we?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. What did we decide?”

“I think we decided that Shepherd had it brought over,” I replied, leaning into him and sniffing hard. “Why do you smell like bananas?”

“I just did a shot of banana liqueur.”

“Why?”

“I asked if they had it. And they did.”

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