Page 177 of Left on Base

“Mhm.” My voice is shaky, but I try to keep it light, even though I’m tempted to rip my robe off and straddle him. It’d probably relax me and I’d forget about the fact that I’m pitching in the biggest game of my life tomorrow.

He winks, a flash of the boy who used to make me laugh until I cried. “I’m tryin’ to be.”

“I know you are.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the hum of the hotel AC and the clink of spoons against cardboard.

He sets his spoon down, bracing himself. “Sooo… I got a call from the Braves.”

“What?” I nearly choke on ice cream. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s unreal to think I might make it.”

“You will,” I say, and I mean it. If there’s one thing I know, it’s Jaxon’s talent.

He smiles, but it fades fast. I see the apprehension in his eyes. Getting a call is one thing. Getting drafted is better. Still, just because you’re drafted by an MLB team doesn’t mean you’ll play an inning in the majors. It just means they want you. From there, you have to prove yourself every day and claw your way through the minors.

“So? What are you gonna do?” I ask.

“My parents want me to finish school.”

“What do you want?” My voice is smaller now.

He doesn’t look at me. He stares into the ice cream like it might have answers. “Us.”

The word hangs there, electric and terrifying.

“What?” I whisper.

He’s quiet so long I think he won’t answer. Finally, he looks up, eyes bloodshot and pleading. “I miss you.”

Everything I thought I’d let go of that day on the field rushes back. I haven’t let go of anything. I still want him. I ache for him. But wanting him and being able to trust him aren’t the same, and I don’t know how to bridge that distance.

He leans forward, elbows on knees, voice raw. “I know I fucked up and you’re probably not going to forgive me easy. I don’t deserve easy. But I want to try.”

I swallow hard, fighting tears. “What changed your mind? I thought you didn’t want any commitments right now.”

He shakes his head, almost laughing at himself. “Nothing compares to how I feel with you. Baseball, my life—none of it feels the way it did when I was with you.”

I’m crying now, silent and messy, and I don’t even try to hide it. Are you? Because I’ve never heard him say anything like this—not to me, not to anyone.

He looks at me, and it’s like every wall I’ve built starts to crack. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m losing my fucking mind without you.”

The silence is thick with everything we aren’t saying. I want to reach for him, to let him in, to believe this time will be different. But I’m still learning how to protect myself, how to be strong and soft at once.

So I sit there, ice cream melting between us, and hope that maybe that’s enough. For now.

The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable. My eyes are still wet, and I swipe at them with my sleeve, embarrassed at how easily he can unravel me. In the background, the muted sounds of hallway doors and distant TV static remind me we’re here, just two people trying to figure out how to be brave in a hotel room.

Jaxon shifts, searching for words. He looks at me, and there’s a steadiness now that wasn’t there before.

“Camdyn,” he says softly, voice low and certain, “I don’t want you to decide anything tonight. I didn’t come here to make it harder, or ask you to figure us out right now. All you should be thinking about is the game tomorrow. That’s what matters.” His hands fidget with the empty ice cream carton, voice trembling at the edges but strong at the core. “You’re pitching tomorrow. It could be the final game of the series. You’ve always shown up for me, cheering me on even when I didn’t deserve it.” He glances away. “I wanted to finally be here for you. To see you do your thing. You deserve that. You deserve someone in the stands who’s there for you with no expectations.”

For a second, I can’t breathe.

He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets, and offers a crooked smile. “So don’t worry about me. Or us. Not tonight. Just go out there and win tomorrow, okay? I’ll be in the stands cheering for the girl who’s always there for everyone else. Not because I have to, but because I want to.”

I laugh, watery and relieved, and nod, the weight in my chest easing. I don’t know what’s going to happen with us. Maybe that’s okay. Tonight, all I need is to remember I’m not alone out there, not really. That’s enough.

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