Page 79 of The Fall Classic

He rushes while I keep a hand on Georgie’s face. Slowly, the blood is returning, and she’s getting some of her color back, but she’s still too pale.

“Hey, stay with me,” I say, rubbing her cheeks. Her eyes slowly open, and she looks dazed.

“What am I doing down here?” she asks.

The server hands me the juice, and I put the straw in her mouth. “This is how all the cool kids eat dinner,” I say, acting calm when my insides are tied into knots. “Can you drink this?”

Her lips purse around the straw. I watch the level of orange juice in the cup, barely breathing until it starts to go down more and more. She drains the whole thing in ten seconds, and when she finishes, she rests her head back on the ground.

“This is attractive,” she mutters, and I chuckle, the tightness in my body releasing a fraction. If she can joke, she’s going to be okay.

“Is she all right?” the server asks behind me, his accent thicker than butter.

“She’ll be fine. She hasn’t eaten much today.”

“Here,” he says, handing me another juice and a piece of bread with butter. I don’t dare give it to her in case she chokes, but I put the straw in Georgie’s mouth and watch her drink it. I check her pulse at her neck. It’s thin and quick, but it’s steady.

“Can you box the food up for me?” I ask the server. “Any food.”

I pull out a few bills for him, and then Georgie tries to push herself to sit.

“Nope,” I tell her, bending down and scooping her up. “I’m your legs now, capisce?”

She shakes with a weak laugh. No comebacks from The Godfather and no protests. She buries her face in my neck as I carry her past the string lights and dozens of conversations, the server following me out with food boxed up and secured in a bag. He opens the truck for me so I can place her in the cab, and then we’re off.

She manages to put on her buckle, but then she lowers herself to the bench, her head on my thigh. “I’m gonna take a nap,” she says, wreaking havoc on my heart.

I trace my fingers across the smooth skin of her cheek and around her ear.

“Georgie,” I say, low but loud enough to make sure she can hear me. If she’s awake at all. “How are you feeling? Should we go to the hospital?”

“No,” she murmurs. “Take me home.”

“Where’s home?”

Her breathing changes, growing more shallow, like she’s struggling to get the words out. “Above the shop,” she says.

Before I can say anything else, her breathing’s slow and even again, and I realize she’s asleep.

And she lives above the shop?

Not only was I going to Meant to Bean for months looking for her and missing her every time because she was working in that coffee truck one town over, I was going to her home. Her actual apartment.

The timing of it hits like a medicine ball to my back.

I found her and I’m leaving.

My entire family is in baseball, and now, so are their significant others. Coop plays for the Firebirds and Liesel works for the team. Lucas’s girlfriend doesn’t just work for the team—Scottie’s a player coordinator for Jake Rodgers, a walking train wreck who requires her to travel with the team.

And the girl I want to be with is here, in Mullet Ridge. I spent months stuck in my head because I didn’t trust my own hands. Months and months of floundering and searching, and the moment I saw her again, she unlocked something in me that has me sent up to the big leagues.

I almost wish I could lock it back up.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Logan

Meant to Bean is still open when we pull up—it hasn’t even been an hour, but it feels like so much more. Georgie is conscious, but she’s sapped of strength, so I find her keys in her bag and gather her up again in my arms.