Page 45 of Single Glance

A phone chimed from the other side of the room, but Iignored it, too focused on the screen in front of me. “Hadley, that’s your phone,” Briana said as she shifted to pass it to me. “It’s your mom.”

“I’ll call her back later.” I wasn’t letting another one of her guilt trips ruin tonight for me. It had been a while since we spoke, mostly because I knew she’d find some reason to make my happiness about her. Instead, I turned around and motioned for Emilia to join me.

She danced up next to me, and we clutched hands as Cam grabbed his bat and walked up to the plate. The heavy bass of his walk-up song blared through the stadium, all eyes on him. I could only imagine the pressure on his shoulders right now. With the bases almost loaded, it was up to him to get the guys home, especially because they only had one more out. If he fucked this up, LA might win the game and take the series.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered the words and clutched Emilia’s hand like a prayer. “You’ve got this. You can do it.”

The pitcher eyed Cam down, looking too serious for his own good. But Cam didn’t seem phased, keeping his eye trained straight ahead. Nothing seemed to bother him when he was in the game, too focused for anything to get in his way. He belonged on that field. Even with my limited baseball knowledge, I could see that. And with all his hard work this season, everyone else saw it too. He had the speed, the agility. Now, he just needed to get this hit to bring his team home.

The first ball flew before I even saw the pitcher move. Cam didn’t bat; he just let it fly into the catcher’s hand.

“Ball one!” the umpire shouted, and the announcers echoed it to the crowd.

Shit, my heart was about to give out under this pressure. Howon Earth did Cam survive 162 games of this every year? If I was freaking out while watching thousands of miles away. How did Cam cope?

If the pressure weighed on him, he didn’t show it. He just shook his head, keeping an easy grin on his face. The pitcher wound up and threw the ball so fast, it was barely a blur on the screen.

But Cam saw it.

With a crack of his bat, he swung as hard as his body allowed, throwing all his power into the hit. The ball soared past the infield, heading toward the upper left half of the stadium.

“Keep going! Keep going!” Ollie shouted behind me.

And it did.

The ball flew right over the outfield and up into the stands, where dozens of people volleyed to get it. I smiled when the camera panned to a little boy, not much older than Emilia, holding it triumphantly in the air.

But the grin on Cam’s face eclipsed that joy. His first major league home run. He leisurely ran around the bases, slapping the hands of the coaches and teammates as he passed them by. The crowd went wild, but Cam didn’t gloat. His smile was gracious, not at all cocky, but the elation in his eyes was clear.

He’d done it.

The dugout rallied around him once he got back inside, full of claps on the back and other congratulations. Before he sat down, one of the relief pitchers dumped a bottle of sports drink over his head. Cam grinned, shaking his head so it flew over the rest of the players. It tugged at my heart, knowing he was so far away during this pivotal moment. Emiliahugged my legs and beamed up at me. Her pride in her dad shone through her eyes—I probably had the same expression.

The batter after Cam struck out, ending the inning. While the team changed positions, a reporter came on the screen, Cam standing at her side.

“Cam, that was your first home run since you’ve joined the Hawks. How did it feel?”

He broke into a wide grin. “Pretty damn amazing, to be honest. I didn’t want to let my team down.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” The reporter smiled up at him and placed her hand on his forearm. My hands clenched, not appreciating her touching my man.Woah.Where the hell did that come from? I wasn’t a jealous person, at least, not normally. But Cam meant something to me, maybe more than I even realized, and it was causing my inner possessive side to rear her ugly head. The reporter continued, “Is there anything you’d like to say to your friends and family back home?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Emilia, I hope you’re watching, because that was for you, little one. And to the rest of my family back home, I miss you more than you know.” He winked, and I knew the message was for me. “When I get back, we’re celebrating.”

I couldn’t agree more.

THIRTY-FIVE

By the time I reached my hotel room, I was exhausted from celebrating with the team. We’d won the second game, tying us with LA as we entered the last game of the series. Despite the amazing turn tonight had taken, I was ready to be home. The weekend had already been a lot, and I wasn’t looking forward to another game tomorrow. At the same time, I was still riding high from my home run, my first in the majors.

Holy shit.

The moment my bat collided with the ball, I knew it was going the distance, but I held my breath, hoping it didn’t end up in one of the outfielder’s gloves. But it soared right into the stands, and when the crowd cheered, awareness prickled in my chest. It was one of those pivotal career moments; at least, that’s what the reporters kept saying when Benny shoved me into the media room to debrief after the game.

But as good as it felt, something was missing—or should I say, someone was missing. I glanced at my phone, trying to figure out the time back home. It was late here, which meantit was in the middle of the night back home. Hadley had sent me a couple of texts during the game, but I hadn’t had time to read them until hours later.

MENACE

OMG SARGE!! THAT HIT!

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