I grabbed my glove and jogged toward the area between second and third base. I did some basic stretches and jumps all afternoon, trying to get used to the new tightness and pulling with the motions I had done for twenty years. I felt more confident than I had before, but not sure I could handle it. “Ready, CFD.”
She grinned at the kids’ nickname for her and waltzed on up to home plate in her attire.Jesus. If the guys on the team could see her now…“Bend your knees.”
“I can’t,” I fired back.
“Yes. You can or you don’t play.”
Her words resonated through me. She couldn’t possibly know about the meeting I’d had that morning, could she? I flexed my hand in the glove and fought the resistance my knee gave me. I bent low, letting the edge of the leather hit the dirt. She tossed the ball in the air and planted her feet for her swing. The bat connected with the ball in the sweet spot, the familiar sound like music to my ears. I instinctively jerked to the right, her natural tendency to pull the ball easy for me to spot. The ball whirled toward me and without thinking, I scooped it and rolled it off to the side.
“Again,” I yelled at her. She nodded and continued to hit me ball after ball. I didn’t miss one, and by the thirtieth, I had to break. “Knee.”
She set the bat down and jogged toward me. “Come on, big guy. Let’s find you a ball bucket and have our post-practice debrief.”
I wanted to laugh, but the pain was too much. My knee hadn’t failed me, though. I hurt like a motherfucking bomb had gone off inside it, but it hadn’t let me down. Sure, it was swollen as fuck and rubbing uncomfortably against the brace, begging for me to sit and ice it. I made it to the bench with sweat dripping down my face, and Fiona handed me a water.Bless her.“Thanks.”
“You look rough right now. I’d say your performance wasn’t the worst I’ve seen. I might put you in the starting line-up. You gave me a bit of attitude before the game that I didn’t appreciate and I wanted to teach you a lesson.”
“I’ll show you a lesson,” I replied. That earned me a slow blush up her neck before she punched me in the arm. The water helped refuel my energy. “You can’t seem to keep your hands off me today.”
“It’s all violent. These aren’t fun touches.”
“Anything from you is a fun touch, Barbie.”
We shared a look that went on a little too long for two people who disliked each other. She tried to act tough the longer I stared at her, but her façade broke and a smile took over her entire face. I scooted closer to her and gave her thigh a squeeze. It was less personal than pushing the hair that escaped behind her ear. “Are you feeling better?”
She shrugged and the moment of peace left. “Yeah, thanks. I talked with my sister and thought a bit about my decision in a few weeks.”
“What decision?”Is she moving? Quitting?
“The position at Texting Too Late. I could get paid and have benefits—the whole shebang. I need to let them know sooner rather than later,” she replied in a small voice. She might have been a petite person, but nothing about her personality or voice was small and concern took over.
“What’s the hold-up?”It’s a family-run organization and all charity work. Why won’t she take it?
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me, Barbie.” I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her wrist, preventing her walking away. She tensed and clenched her teeth together before turning around. “Don’t get worked up. I’m genuinely wondering. From my understanding from the little creeping on you I’ve done, it would be an amazing opportunity for you to help do what you’re great at.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” she asked with a fire in her tone.
“Talking to kids. You’re a natural at it. Why do you think the players respond so well to you? I know baseball, but you’re their coach, mentor, the person they go to with problems. You’re a leader, Fiona.” I couldn’t believe I’d admitted it to her. It made me look weak, but when I saw her reaction, I didn’t feel weak anymore. Her surprise and happiness were better than the small satisfaction I’d get by putting her down.
“I… I didn’t think… I do love working with kids.” She gave me a feeble smile and hit her back against the fence a couple of times. “The job would be handed to me, though.”
“Handed to you?” I asked without hiding my doubt. “Didn’t you help Jade with a million things?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I know you’re a little crazy, because who else would do what we did on the motorcycle ride, the car, or the bathroom? But, Fiona, think about your strengths and goals. Does this job help reach them? Yes or no. Your answer to that question should tell you.”
Screw it.I cupped her chin in my hand and waited until she met my gaze, then I said, “You know the answer.”
Chapter Nineteen
Fiona
Goals. I had them—everyone did. Yet why were they so goddamn hard to figure out? I groaned and rubbed my temples. I’d foolishly bought a new stack of colorful sticky notes—the bright, obnoxious ones with all sorts of colors—thinking it would help me organize my life. Instead, I’d covered the entire kitchen table in a starfish pattern that looked really cool, but wasted a lot of paper.
I’m a fucking idiot.
