Stealing Home: A Reverse Grumpy-Sunshine College Sports Romance (Beyond the Play Book 3)

I’VE NEVER BEEN SO grateful to finish a presentation.

When I’m finally finished answering all the questions the audience had, I walk off the stage with legs so rubbery, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it to the hallway. I handled everything they threw at me—especially Robert Meier, who I swear asked more questions than anyone else combined—but honestly, the debate itself was nothing compared to knowing my family was watching it all unfold.

I tried my best not to look at them, but it was hard. I was aware of their presence in an impossible-to-ignore way. There wasn’t a literal spotlight on me, but it felt like it.

I’m barely out of the auditorium when they burst through the doors, all of them, talking over each other like a flock of seagulls. Dad has a bouquet of sherbet-colored zinnias in his arms, tied together with a black ribbon. Penny finds me first, tackling me in a hug so tight I can’t breathe, but I just squeeze her back. I wish I could hide here all day, face buried in her hair. Anything to avoid whatever’s going to happen when my family catches up to me.

“Wow,” she whispers. “You’re a fucking genius.”

I half-laugh, half-sob. The adrenaline coursing through me eases, leaving me bone tired. “How… how are they here? What’s going on?”

“Mia,” I hear my mother say. “What did you do to your hair?”

“It’s much better this way,” Nana says. “I hated it long.”

“Nana!” Giana scolds.

“She looks more grown up,” Nana says decisively. “That’s a good thing.”

I laugh again, wetly, and pull away from Penny. “Did you do this?”

“No,” she says. “It was—”

She breaks off, her eyes widening, as Robert Meier walks over to us.

“He’s terrifying,” she whispers.

“Miss di Angelo,” he says, holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to finally meet the student Beatrice speaks of so highly.”

I shake it. “It’s nice to meet you as well, sir.”

He’s a tall, thin man with eyes like chips of ice, carefully combed hair, and a slight accent. Despite the warm June weather outside, he’s wearing slacks and a pullover sweater. I hope he didn’t hear what Penny just said. He’s not scary, just intense.

I glance around; my family is standing off to the side, mercifully quiet—and very obviously listening in.

“I understand that you have some interest in my international undergraduate program,” he says.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m looking to take on ten students next year,” he says. “Only those that I feel are both serious and passionate about research, and it’s clear that you have both in spades. You have a mind for the details, and that’s harder to find than you’d assume.”

Professor Santoro walks over, a cup of coffee in hand and a small smile on her face. “I see you’ve met each other.”

“Yes,” he says. “I was just telling Miss di Angelo that she has a spot in my program, assuming she’s willing to accept.”

I think my heart stops beating for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“This wouldn’t be a typical study abroad program, but I think you know that already. The research we’ll be doing is already in your area of interest, so perhaps it could even be the start of what will one day grow into your dissertation.” He raises one thin eyebrow. “You are going into a PhD program after your undergraduate degree is out of the way, yes?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he says. “Please don’t let me keep you from your family. I’ll be in touch about the program details soon.”

“I’d love to introduce you to Alice Farley,” Professor Santoro says, although she’s smiling at me. “She’s one of my graduate students, you’ll hear her present later.”

I stare at the two of them as they walk in the direction of the refreshments. Penny tries to pull me into another hug, but Giana beats her to it.

“Mi-Mi,” she says. “I’m so sorry I was rude to you.”

“Oh,” I say. “It’s—”

“It was bad,” she says. She takes my face in her hands, looking at me with tears in her big brown eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said about you.”

My head spins in circles. The high from the presentation, Robert Meier, and now this… it’s a perfect moment.

Almost perfect.

“Gi-Gi,” I say, “not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here? Why are all of you here?”

She cups my cheek for a second before stepping back. “Sebastian.”

The sound of his name on her lips sends an ache through my heart. “What?”

“He called us,” Mom says, coming over to pull me into a hug. “How many times, honey?”

“At least a dozen,” Dad grumbles, kissing the top of my head. “He drove down to talk to us, too.”

“Twice,” Nana says, a touch of dryness in her tone. “He’s a nice boy, but very insistent.”

“Anthony couldn’t get away, but he would have been here if he could,” Mom says. “He went out with Sebastian the other day.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “What did he tell you all?”

“He told us that we had to come see you,” Giana says. “He said we needed to see you at work to understand just how brilliant you are. And he was right. You’re incredible. I barely recognized you up on that stage.”

“He told us the truth,” Mom adds, her voice full of emotion. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard her sound so affected. “He showed us the work you’ve been doing and how much it means to you. And sweetheart, I’m sorry I didn’t listen before now. I’m sorry I didn’t take your ambitions seriously.”

I feel like I fell through a trapdoor straight into wonderland. That would be more believable than what’s happening right now. I try to reply, but the words crowd my throat, a jumbled mess I can’t sort through.

Sebastian convinced them to come see me. Despite his personal feelings about them, he brought them back into my life. He realized how much I needed them here, and he made that happen, even after I hurt him.

Longing washes over me like the tide.

I pushed him away, and he’s still reaching out.

Mom smooths my hair back. A tear rolls down my cheek, and she brushes it away. Her wedding ring is a cool weight against my cheek. “You really do look so grown up.”

“We’re proud of you,” Dad says. He gives me the bouquet of flowers in his arms. “Maria, a secret genius. Who knew?”

“She’s always been a little different,” Nana says.

If that’s the best I’ll ever get from her, that’s fine by me. I can’t stop looking at my parents. There’s pride in my father’s eyes. Love in the way my mother can’t stop fussing with my hair, my blazer jacket. It doesn’t erase years of arguments and misunderstandings and pain, but I’m hopeful that it could be the start of something good. They’ve always meant the world to me, even when things were tough. I’ll never be the kind of person who will give up on them entirely, and the thought of a fresh start, without lies, means more than I could ever express in words. I throw my arms around them both.

And yet, however much I love that my family is here, there’s someone missing. Someone I wanted to see in the crowd, even above my parents.

He called us family.

I was too scared to let myself have it, but that’s what we are. Family.

“I have to see him,” I whisper as I pull away.

Mom gets what I mean immediately. “I was hoping you’d say that. Men like him don’t come around that often, you know.”

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. As long as we’re being honest, there’s one more thing I need to get out in the open.

“Mom,” I say, “this doesn’t change me. Not my sexuality, or how I feel about marriage and kids. And I need you to listen to that. Really listen, this time.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know for sure what the future is going to look like. But I know how I feel about this now, and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. I need—I need to know I’m enough for you. Not because of a future husband or children. Just… for me.”

My mother—my wonderful, stubborn, difficult to please mother—lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously tearful. I freeze, my heart practically stopping mid-beat, but then she nods, pressing her palm to her heart.

“You are enough for me, Maria. Just as you are.” She takes a tissue out of her purse and dabs at her eyes carefully. “You have been ever since the moment I first held you in my arms.”

She pauses, squeezing my arm with her long, wine-red nails. I don’t doubt the love in the gesture, and another tear slips down my cheek. I’m going to be a wreck by the time I make it to the ballpark. “But tell me you’re going to that boy.”

I look at Penny. “Are they still playing?”

She checks her phone quickly. “Cooper’s been texting me updates. It’s the eighth inning.”

“We’ll get you there by the ninth,” Dad promises.