Page 76 of Switch Hitter

I squeeze his thigh with my other hand once. “I am sure.”

He exhales, and I swear I can see his brain arguing with him.

“Also,” I add, because I can’t resist, “if your dad says something stupid, I’ll fight him.”

Sean laughs, a real laugh. “You can’t fight my dad, Mili.”

“Watch me,” I say, patting his thigh before moving my hand. “I have no problem becoming a problem when it comes to my man and his happiness.”

By the time we pull up to the house, Sean’s hands are sweating on the steering wheel. He sits there for a little bit, just staring at the house. I don’t rush him and wait until Sean finally turns his head toward me.

“I know I already told them your name,” he says, voice tight. “But… this is different.”

I nod. “I know.”

He swallows. “If I freeze⁠—”

“I’ll squeeze your hand,” I finish for him. “And I won’t let go.”

Sean’s eyes soften. “Okay.”

I reach across the console, cupping his cheek gently and turning his face to mine.

“Cobre,” I murmur. “You chose me in front of my family.”

He nods slowly and swallows.

“You can do this,” I say. “And if it goes bad, we leave. Together. Simple as that.”

Sean’s eyes go glassy as his lip quivers. “I can do this.”

Then he opens the door and we step out into coastal air that tastes like salt and nerves. Sean walks up the path like he’s marching into battle and I follow half a step behind him, close enough that he can feel me.

The door opens before we knock.

Okay, that's a little scary.

A woman appears, eyes sharp, with a warm smile. This must be his mom. She looks at Sean like she’s seeing her son, and the way her face softens tells me everything I need to know.

That this woman loves him unconditionally.

I silently pray to God that I’m right.

It’s then that her gaze flicks to me, and she stares at me curiously. Like she’s assessing me. Now, I know I’m not dressed up; I’m in a pretty basic pair of jeans and flannel, but I made sure to shower before leaving the stadium.

The way she’s looking at me isn’t cruel by any means. She’s just doing what moms do, making sure I’m good enough for her son.

Sean’s hand finds mine, and his fingers are cold when they weave with mine.

I squeeze once.

I’m here.

Sean inhales, then he steps forward.

“Ma,” he says, his voice a little shaky but clear. “Dad?”

A man appears behind her, taller and older, with the same green eyes as Sean.