Moonlight came through the blinds as Frankie sat up against Ryan’s headboard. He walked into his room in only boxers carrying two bottles of water and an envelope. She sighed at the sight of him, his long legs eating up the space between them. He passed her a bottle of water and sank onto the bed with her.
Frankie opened her water, took a sip, and set it down on the table he’d made for beside his bed. Her pulse galloped when she saw the envelope in his hand. Time for answers. “What’s that?”
Ryan set his own water down and tapped the envelope against his open palm. He handed it to her but she saw the reluctance in his eyes. She smiled, tugged it open, and pulled out a sheet of paper. Her eyes widened, her heart fluttering like it actually had wings. It made no sense. What did this mean? “What is this?” Tears teased the corners of her eyes.
He shifted and sat up straighter. “Frankie, you are incredible. You’re sexy and sweet, smart, and loving. Anyone else, anyone, would have called social services when they found those boys. But not you. You dug in because you can’t help but care. You care about everything and everyone and you don’t care what you get out of it. And it made me think that I wanted to care about something that matters too. You. But also something else. I thought my whole life was about baseball and I was okay with that but when I lost it or walked away or however the hell it gets spun, I realized that I’m more than that. You and those boys made me see that I was more than that. So, I wanted to do something to show you that. This is why I went back to LA. To finalize the paperwork.”
He caught the tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. She couldn’t breathe. He was giving her too much credit. She went up onto her knees and swung one leg over his lap so she was sitting on top of him, her eyes filling.
“Meeting me may have woken something up in you, Ryan, but even without knowing you before, I am positive that you have always been more than baseball. You’re an incredible athlete, but you’re an even more amazing man,” she told him. He gripped her hips and kissed her hard.
She pulled back and picked up the paper again. “So what does this mean?”
“It’s a scholarship basically, for underprivileged kids. Daniel is filing the final paperwork. It’s for kids who need a boost in life. They won’t have to be in the system. They can get referred or recommended. The scholarship will ensure that they have a place to live, clothing, food, and access to a kick-ass education sports wise and academically. My donation is for this year but in the future I’ve got people lined up for charity events and it’ll be funded that way. There’s so much we can do with this, Frankie.”
His hands rested on her bare thighs. She’d pulled a T-shirt on when he’d left the room and it hung loosely around her collarbone. He traced a finger along the bone, making her shiver. Her brain replayed his words: so much we can do. Together.
“I don’t know. Ryan, this is incredible. But we were broken up. You were going to have my name on something when I wasn’t part of your life?”
He tipped her chin up when she tried to avoid his eyes. “No matter what happened between us, you’re the reason behind this. That was never going to change. You inspire me. Even if I hadn’t been lucky enough to get you back, to have you want me back, you would always be part of me, Frankie. You’re the best part of me.”
Her voice shook. “This is something that will change so many lives. It’s beautiful and wonderful and I’m honored.” She kissed his cheek then, unable to help herself, continued to kiss his face, noisily, everywhere, until he was laughing and she felt like she’d won everything. All at once.
She kept staring at their names, side by side. Forever linked. No matter what. He hadn’t done it to get her back. He’d done it because she mattered. Because she’d always matter to him. He’d proven that but she still had to ask, “Are you sure about the name?”
Ryan tipped her chin upward so she would look at him. “The name of the scholarship is the Walker Vaughn Merit Award. I’ve never been surer of anything. Other than us.”
“Ryan.” She had no other words.
“Frankie, you came into my life at a time when I thought nothing mattered. That people and their words, their actions, didn’t count for anything. You helped me see that there’s still good. That people are still good. Or can be. When they want to be. That’s what this award is about. It’s a foundation. A place to start.”
Frankie sniffled. “I guess I’d better learn more about baseball.”
Ryan smiled at her, took the paper from her hands, and set it aside. He took her hand, turned it to kiss her palm, and ran slow kisses up the inside of her arm, starting at her wrist.
“I can help you with that,” he said. “Turns out, I’m an excellent coach.”