The roar of Dodger Stadium echoed through the warm Los Angeles night as Jack walked to the dugout. Game 1 of the World Series had just ended in a way no one would ever forget. After an intense back-and-forth, Freddie Freeman had launched a walk-off grand slam to secure the win, sending the Dodger fans into a frenzy. It was a dream start to the series, and Jack felt like he was still floating on a cloud.
He'd thrown 5.1 hard-fought innings, keeping the Yankees to just two runs from Stantons homerun. Every pitch, every out, had demanded every ounce of focus he had, but he’d stayed locked in, knowing that you were in the stands, cheering him on. You’d been there all season, a constant source of support, grounding him in a way no one else could. All he wanted now was to find you in this sea of people, to share this incredible moment with the one person who meant more than the game itself.
Jack scanned the crowd just outside the dugout, squinting as he looked up into the stands. Fans were everywhere, celebrating, high-fiving each other, and chanting. His heart thumped a little faster as he searched for your face among the crowd. Then, suddenly, he saw you – standing near the edge of the stands, your face lit up with a smile that outshone all the stadium lights. Your eyes were locked on him, your hands waving as you caught his gaze.
A grin broke out on his face, and he wasted no time, pushing his way through the throng of reporters and teammates, his focus zeroed in on you. You laughed as he reached you, leaning over the barrier. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you over the low wall, pulling you close to him. You squealed in surprise, then laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding on as he spun you around, the adrenaline of the win and the relief of seeing you combining into pure joy.
“Oh my, Jack!” you exclaimed, your voice breathless with excitement. “You were incredible out there!”
Jack chuckled, lowering you gently back to the ground but keeping you in his arms, unwilling to let go just yet. “Only because I had my lucky charm in the stands,” he said, his voice warm as he looked down at you, his eyes shining with affection.
You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. “You’re the one out there throwing the heat, not me. I’m just a lucky spectator in the stands!”
“Nope,” he said firmly, giving you a squeeze. “I don’t get through those first five innings without knowing you’re up there. You keep me focused. You always do.” He tilted his head slightly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Besides, I saw you mouthing ‘strike him out’ with every pitch. I’m pretty sure that’s why it worked.”
You laughed, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Alright, maybe I helped a little,” you conceded, smiling up at him with a look that made his heart flip.
He brushed a loose strand of your hair back from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment as he looked at you, everything else fading away. The stadium around you two was still buzzing with cheers, I Love LA blasting, but all he could hear was the sound of your laughter and the fast rhythm of his own heartbeat.
“Did you see Freddie?” you asked, your excitement bubbling over as you recalled the final, unforgettable moment. “I mean, that ball was out of here the second it left his bat!”
Jack chuckled, nodding. “Oh, trust me, I saw it. I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so loud in my life. He saved us all out there.”
“Not all,” you teased, poking his chest. “You were pretty amazing too, you know. Only two runs? Against them? That’s no small feat.”
He smirked, shrugging. “It helps when you’re pitching with a view of your favorite fan.”
You laughed, a blush coloring your cheeks. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
He shrugged, grinning as he gave you a quick squeeze. “Yeah, but you love it.”
You leaned your forehead against his, both of you grinning as you stood together amidst the chaos of the stadium. Jack’s arms were still wrapped tightly around you, the coldness of his ice pack pressing against your back, but you didn’t mind. Being here, in his arms, was worth it.
Around you two, the stadium was still alive, fans waving their jerseys, snapping photos, and chanting as they filed out in waves. Reporters were busy gathering players for post-game interviews, and his teammates were laughing and celebrating just a few feet away. But right now, none of that mattered to Jack. All that mattered was you.
“You’re going to stay with me tonight, right?” he asked softly, his voice almost lost amidst the sounds of celebration.
“Of course,” you replied, your eyes softening as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“Good,” he said, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek. “Because I don’t want to go a second without you tonight.”
You smiled, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers warm against his cool skin. “I’m so proud of you, Jack. You worked so hard for this.”
His eyes softened, and he nodded, his voice quiet. “I know. And it’s all worth it, just to see you this happy.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Here’s to one down. Three more to go.”
You smiled, nodding in agreement. “And then a parade downtown."
“You bet,” he said, a glint of determination in his eyes. “We’re going all the way this year.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there in silence, holding each other as the energy of the stadium pulsed around them. Jack’s hand found yours, your fingers intertwining as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. He knew there would be countless challenges ahead in the series, but as long as he had you by his side, he felt like he could face anything.
“C’mon,” he said finally, his smile softening as he looked down at you. “Let’s get out of here. I want to celebrate with you.”
You grinned, nodding as you turned to leave the field together. Walking hand in hand through the stadium, with the fans’ cheers echoing in the background, Jack felt like he was on top of the world. Tonight was a night he’d remember forever, not just because of the game, but because he got to share it with the person who meant everything to him.
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