minute. Maybe I had been. He took a small step forward, slipping the business card into his pocket. “I haven’t stopped thinking about Wednesday night, Sophia. I haven’t stopped.”
Wednesday night. Heat flooded through my cheeks.
“The house was deadly silent that night, and I was thinking and thinking and thinking. About a lot of things. Dad took my mom to rehab that night, did I tell you that?” He shook his head, dragging his cleats along the grass. “No, I don’t think so. That’s why Janet was over—that night, Mom asked if Dad would take her. She…she asked for help.”
I reached out with my free hand and slipped my fingers into his, squeezing it. “Walsh, that’s great news.”
“It is, but I couldn’t stop thinking. About my mom, about the final game, about you. I kept wishing you’d call me or text me because I just needed to hear your voice. And then you just showed up at my house.”
I had been the one needing to hear his voice. After Mom’s truth bomb, all I wanted to do was hear his voice. And he felt the same way. “I’m sorry for everything,” I told him, my voice unsteady. “For writing that stupid article. And for getting upset with you. That wasn’t fair.”
“It was completely fair. I should’ve told you the minute I realized what was going on. Once I knew about you and Jewel, I should’ve said something, brought it up.”
In all honesty, if Walsh approached me before Scott broke up with me, I wasn’t sure I would’ve listened to him. I probably would’ve told him where he could shove it.
“I didn’t plan the fake relationship,” Walsh said, this time dropping his voice. “The way Scott spoke to you that night was so…I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t even thinking—I just stepped in.” He shook his head. “After I saw how shocked he was, my motives became a little less selfless. But I started out with good intentions, I swear.”
Seeing Walsh here, opening his heart out to me, felt like a dream that I was just about to wake up from. I watched him for a long moment, trying to burn this memory into my mind. It recorded over the last memory I had of him, of our argument, of me being so angry.
I looked down at the plastic bag, watching as a lone raindrop slid along the side. “I threw away my article.”
“What? Why?”
“It was selfish,” I said, and even though the words felt ugly in my mouth, I knew I had to be honest. “Though the school is seriously messed up when it comes to idolizing baseball, what right did I have to take away your dream to fund my own? And it wasn’t the kind of writer I wanted to be, you know? That’s not who I am. I write about how plastic straws are damaging the environment, not exposés that can hurt someone’s feelings. That’s not me.”
“Too bad,” Walsh said, causing my gaze to jerk to his. “I could’ve given you some juicy content.”
“I wanted to tell you so badly, but I was afraid you’d never talk to me again.”
Walsh reached over and grabbed one of my hands with his own. He had to feel the clamminess, but clung tightly, almost like he was afraid I’d pull away. “Sophie, I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried. I…I love being around you. Yeah, we started hanging out to sell our fake relationship, but along the way, I just wanted to be with you. Without others around, without having to show off. Because being with you, I could just be me. I wasn’t Mr. Perfect or team captain or anything like that. No one was looking at me other than you, and I could be me.”
Everything inside me screeched to a halt. My heartbeat, the air in my lungs, the blood pumping in my veins—everything stopped because that was exactly the way I felt. He’d repeated my own thoughts back to me without even knowing it.
I pulled my hand from his, reaching for the ties on my bag. “I made this,” I said as I pulled the board out. “You were supposed to see it from your pitcher’s mound and swoon, but you had to go and mess up the game.”
Walsh laughed at my attempt of humor. “I’m pretty good at messing things up.”
The board shook from how bad my fingers trembled, but I dropped the bag to the ground, turning the board so he