Harlow gapes at the response. “Jump the gun? Seriously?” she questions. “You two have known each other for most of your lives and are trying to have a baby. You’ve already made the jump, Elle, and you jumped so damn far, I don’t think there’s any way back.”
She makes a valid point.
While marrying Gunnar would complete the dream, the deal is to take it one step at a time. It’s what was agreed upon, and I intend to uphold that, even if my heart has already surpassed it.
A commotion on the field draws our attention back to the game. Looking over, I see that we’re already up to bat, with Dawson hitting a double that ties up the game.
Our crowd erupts into cheers, the excitement echoing through the stands.
“I see Dawson is still quite the athlete,” Harlow muses, shooting a look at Penny.
“Surprise, surprise,” she grumbles, her voice loaded with sarcasm, but there’s also no denying the pain hidden beneath the surface.
Dawson and Penny were once high school sweethearts. Voted most popular couple from our graduating class and most likely to marry, their breakup came as a huge shock to everyone, especially their closest friends. Penny has always been vague about the details of their split, but her pain has radiated for years. According to Gunnar, Dawson was just as broken up about it. It wasn’t long after that he left for the U.S. to play college football for a few years.
I had hoped after some distance between them, they might be able to make amends or at least become friends. Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened, and I’m not sure it ever will.
I’m pulled from the thought as Gunnar steps up to bat.
“Go, Gunnar!” Poppy cheers from below, her small figure climbing the chain link fence surrounding home plate. Bear jumps up on his hind legs next to her, barking his support.
“You got this, babe!” I clap, adding my encouragement.
“Yeah, you got this, babe,” Linc mocks, ribbing Gunnar from where he warms up on deck.
Gunnar shoots him a glare before flipping the bird.
I chuckle at their usual banter.
“This could be the last bat, right?” Penny asks, her voice tinged with nervous excitement.
I nod, feeling my own tension mounting. “If Gunnar hits this and gets even one person home, it’s game over.”
Hollis gives my shoulder a reassuring pat. “Our odds are good.”
They are and Gunnar never misses a hit, but I still find myself nervous.
My breath stalls as he takes position, settling into his stance with determined focus.
The first pitch is thrown, forcing him to step forward, but he holds back from swinging.
“Ball!” the umpire calls out, causing me to sigh with relief.
“Good eye.” I applaud.
The catcher disagrees. “Come on, ump! Open your fucking eyes. That was clearly a strike.”
Gunnar turns to confront him, but the umpire intervenes, issuing a stern warning to the catcher.
“They need to chill,” Harlow says, annoyed. “This is for charity, for god’s sake. Not the major leagues.”
“Still Meadows has always been this way,” Penny adds, her frustration also evident. “I remember the school having to bring in security every time we played them because it always ended in a brawl. They’re the same team that jumped Dawson when his back was turned.”
I recall that game vividly and remember all hell breaking loose. Still Meadows is what some would call ‘upper class’. Most of its residents come from money, which, in turn, has led them to believe they are better than everyone else, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You’d think they would have grown up since then. Obviously, they haven’t.
I refocus on the game as the pitcher winds up for the next pitch. Gunnar swings this time but, unfortunately, hits a foul, sending it astray.
He shakes his head, frustrated at himself.
“Don’t sweat it,” I tell him. “This next one is yours.”
Before he has a chance to prove me right, the opposing team signals for a timeout.
As the umpire momentarily pauses the game, Linc shifts his attention toward us, leaning casually over the chain-link fence.
“Hey, Harlow,” he calls out, a mischievous grin spreading across his handsome face. “You gonna cheer me on when it’s my turn?”
Harlow meets his taunt with a steely glare. “In your dreams, Slimer,” she sneers, using the nickname she gave him back in elementary school.
He chuckles, enjoying the reaction he always gets from her.
The two have been rivals since childhood. It all started when Harlow’s parents purchased the house next door to Linc’s family, and it’s been that way ever since. Even after Harlow’s parents relocated them to the big city during her senior year, their rivalry persists, which makes things slightly complicated when we’re all together.
“God he’s annoying,” Harlow grumbles, continuing to glare at him. “I don’t know how Gunnar can tolerate being friends with him.”
I laugh, unable to suppress my amusement. “He’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” she protests incredulously. “He made my life a living hell throughout my entire childhood and well into my teens. If he wasn’t pelting me with water balloons in the summer, he was launching snowballs at me in the winter. I swear, he and his brothers were like ninjas, always lying in wait to ambush me. And that’s putting it mildly.”
