Page 52 of Sliding into Love
Guess we aren’t the only ones who decided a bit of bubbly was good idea for the festivities.
Royce and I raise our champagne glasses, toasting along with everyone else. Our eyes meet over the rims, and a spark passes between us. Understanding, maybe, or possibility. Whatever it is, it makes my chest feel tight.
The call continues for another twenty minutes, people sharing stories and well-wishes, Claudia and Becka glowing with happiness. Eventually, people start dropping off, needing to get back to their own lives, until it's just a few of us left.
"Kenneth," Claudia says, her face filling more of the screen now. "Thank you for being here. It means a lot."
"I wouldn't have missed it," I tell her honestly. "You two are perfect together."
"We really are," Becka agrees, wrapping an arm around Claudia's waist. "Now, Royce—take care of this one, will you? From what I hear he deserves someone who sees how special he is."
"Becka," I protest, mortified.
But Royce just smiles, their voice warm when they say, "I'll do my best."
We say our goodbyes, and I close the laptop, suddenly very aware that we're alone again. The champagne bottle is half-empty, and there's a charged quality to the air that wasn't there before.
"That was beautiful," Royce says quietly. "Thank you for inviting me."
"Thank you for coming. I meant what I said—it would have felt weird watching alone." I pick up my champagne glass, needing a distraction. "Plus, you made it better. Being here."
"Did I?" They turn to face me more fully, and we're closer now than we were before the ceremony. Close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in their eyes.
"Yeah." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "You always do. Make things better, I mean."
"Kenneth—" They stop, seeming to wrestle with their words. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"What Claudia said. About choosing yourself over expectations. About being true to who you are rather than who people think you should be." They pause, their gaze intense. "Is that something you're working on? Or have you got it figured out?"
The question hits deeper than I expected. I set my glass down, thinking about how to answer honestly.
"I'm working on it," I admit. "For a long time, I've been the person my family wanted me to be. The perfect son, the obedient heir, the guy who doesn't rock the boat. Baseball was the only thing I did to step away from that mold. Lately I've been thinking about what I want. What would make me happy after I’m done with the team, not what would others think."
"And what do you want?" Their voice is soft, careful.
You,I think.I want you.
But I can't say that.
Not when I don't know if they feel the same way. Not when everything between us is so complicated with my position on the team and with all the reasons this might be a bad idea.
Instead I say, "I'm still figuring that out."
We sit there for a moment longer. The ceremony, the champagne, the intimacy of sharing this experience—it's all combined to create this bubble where it feels like anything could happen.
But then Royce glances at the time and stands. "I should go. Early meeting tomorrow with the marketing team."
"Right. Yeah. Of course." I stand too, walking them to the door.
At the threshold, they pause and turn back. "Thank you again for inviting me. It was special.”
I watch them walk down the hallway, disappearing around the corner, and I lean against my doorframe with a sigh.
Claudia was right about one thing:Weddingsareromantic.Watching two people choose each other, commit to each other, build a life together.
It makes you think about what you want. It makes you think about who you want.
