Page 48 of Home Run

“I might have seen your home run. Or maybe it was Jupiter Reeves’s. Man, the way he runs those bases…Ooof, he ishawt.”

Ooof.What thefuckwas ooof?

If she was trying to wind me up, it worked like a dream. My blood hit boiling point in under a second.

“Millie. I don’t mind if you’re not ready to admit you’ve fallen in love with me, but I’m telling you now, if you mention Reeves, or another guybeing hot, I am going to lose my shit. Got it?”

The way she bit down on her smile, teeth sinking into her full, plump lower lip, barely shifted the black cloud that had enveloped me at the mention of Jupiter’s name.

“Okay. I got it.” The teeth sunk a little deeper. “As long as you understand not everyone falls in love with you. As hard as you find it to believe.”

“I don’t care about everyone. I care aboutyou, but it’s okay, I’m a patient guy.”

“Gee, thanks.” She picked up another pile of books.

“How’s our little baby lime doing?” I asked, moving away from the subject of Jupiter Reeves as quickly as I could.

“Good. Taken down both pints of ice cream plus a third.”

“Three pints? She takes after her dad.” I paused, realizing what had slipped out. Millie’s eyes widened.

I’d never thought of the baby’s sex before, that I could have adaughter.From the look on her face, neither had Millie. It was possible I’d stunned her into silence, and to be honest, I didn’t know what there was to say. Or if Ishouldtalk about the baby’s sex. Waiting for the elevator probably wasn’t the best place to have that discussion.

Before Millie could add her thoughts, I continued, “And what’s your verdict, chocolate or marionberry?”

She paused, the pale pink gloss on her nails caught thelight as she pushed her hair away from her face. “Mix the two together and you have yourself a winner.”

I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “See, you love me.”

I think she let out a little growl, but the elevator doors pinged open, so I might have been mistaken.

“You ready for the ultrasound tomorrow?”

“Yes, are you?”

“Can’t fucking wait. We’ll get to see our baby, Mills,” I whispered as a smile broke across her face, rendering me speechless.

“I need to go, Radley’s calling me.”

“Okay.” I smiled back. “Hey, Mills, our game’s on ESPN tonight, in case you wanna ‘catch’ me again.”

“Hey,Tan, I’ll see you in the morning.”

She cut the call and the screen went black before my laugh could sound out. Even so, I made sure I hit a home runjust in caseshe waswalking pastthe TV.

*Eye roll*

ELEVEN

MILLIE

The dingof the elevator followed by the muted hum of voices in the kitchen told me Tanner was here, and I was officially running late. I spun around, it didn’t matter that I now had a closet almost bigger than my bedroom back in D.C., my capabilities for emptying said closet onto the floor of my room knew no bounds, and I hadnothingto wear.

Correction.

I had plenty to wear, but unless it came with an elasticated waistband, I wasn’t fitting into it. The jeans I’d managed to squeeze into a couple of weeks ago, save for the top button, now wouldn’t do up at all. And it wasn’t limited to jeans and top buttons, it had taken me ten minutes of attempting to pull a sports bra on before Radley had to rescue me from the confines of too tightly structured Lycra and lend me one of hers.

Which is how I came to be wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants, usually reserved for Saturday nights in on the couch, and a tank I’d never worn because it was too big for my formally flat chest and kept falling inappropriatelylow. At least it was one step up from pajamas, which I’d also considered.

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