And when you’re standing in a stadium full of thousands of people, you start to feel silly, thinking that everyone would somehow have their eyes on you. The internet has a cruel way of making it seem like the world is against you. But right here, right now, in this stadium, I feel like I’m a part of the crowd. For the first time since arriving, I allow myself to take a deep breath and release all the pregame jitters.
Until we make it to our seats.
Daisy wasn’t lying when she said we would be up front.
We are sitting in the first row off to the side of the dugout, and there is literally a small gate in front of us that would provide access to the impressive field. Guarded by stadium security and, now, Charlie.
I do notice some low murmurs around us. People wondering who we are and why we arrived with our own security. But those whispers quickly turn to shouts when the Monarchs start making their way toward the dugout, being done with their warm-ups.
“There he is. There’s Papi.” Anna jumps as she points to the reason we’re here today.
Number thirty-five, looking every bit a titan in his freshly pressed baseball uniform, slowly making his way to the dugout while chatting with Coach Weston.
He hasn’t spotted us yet, probably since he assumes we’ll be watching the game from the family suite. So I do what everyone else in this stadium is doing and openly check him out.
I mean,come on, baseball pants on a Puerto Rican man?
I can’t be judged for how my eyes eat up every inch of him. I’m only human, after all.
Even though I felt like we truly reached a new level of friendship and understanding last night, it doesn’t mean I suddenly became blind overnight.
Fans yell his name, shout anything they can to get his attention, but he doesn’t break stride as he continues his conversation.
It’s a bit mind-boggling, being here and seeing firsthand how the world reacts to the man who had pizza and ice cream with me last night. Who held my hand and listened so intently as I recalled a piece of my past, a piece that’s starting to ache less the more I revisit it.
I wonder if he knew how much it meant for me to have someone just listen. To sit in the moment with me without trying to chime in with a positive spin.
It was a shitty situation, and it’s okay to let it be that. There’s no need to rebrand my story. I just have to continue working on growing from the experience.
I hope I’m able to tell him one day how much I appreciated the fact that he felt compelled to share a piece of his story as well, even though he didn’t have to. Although there was a slight downside to him opening up.
I fear my little crush has grown into a full-blown attraction.
Before, I could feign innocence, blame my reaction to him purely on his looks or the power he exudes on the field.
But now? I’ve seen a vulnerable side to him. A side that didn’t hesitate to share his raw feelings, not holding back in an attempt to appear macho or spew toxic masculinity.
I was able to see how much integrity he has. How much loyalty he gives to the ones he loves and protects. And how much depth he hides behind the mask of fame and fortune.
I used to think he purposely played up the mysterious baseball player card when in interviews. I now guess it’s more about him feeling comfortable around the person he’s talking to in order to open up. To think that I could now be one of those people makes me a bit giddy and a bit protective of him. Which is hilarious, given our size difference.
And apparently, he unlocked a new kink for me.
Grown-ass men eating gelato on the couch. Who knew?
But seeing him here? In his domain? Yep. I’m definitely in trouble.
I’ve been trying so hard to make sure I keep this job, but now I’m starting to wonder if my growing feelings for Mateo and I will ever survive it.
Just as he’s about to step down into the dugout, Anna gives an impressive shout for his attention.
I can only imagine some parental sixth sense alerted him, because the roaring of the crowd around us must have made it impossible for him to hear her.
Yet within a few quick sweeps, his eyes find Anna and then land on me.
And I swear the ground begins to shake.
No, really, it does.
