“Yeah, of course. I need to take care of my body.”
“I can see that.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip again, so fast my stomach clenched. I needed to get my shit together.
“I’m going to do that again. Can you handle it?”
“Fine. Do it.” I covered my face with my arm and she gently pressed the inside of my throwing arm. I recoiled from her touch and hissed.
“Don’t be a baby. Whatever hurts is right here. Were you extending too much during your release?” She took my fingers into hers, working them through her hand. I enjoyed the touch way too damn much. She became a little light in the dark storm in my head. “Answer me, Zade.”
“I don’t know. Probably,” I sulked. I had the ego of a pitcher and when I melted down, I was chaotic. A small hand smacked my face. It wasn’t gentle or hard, but it got my attention. “What the hell did you do that for?
“You are being a tool right now. Stand up.” She stood back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Show me the motion.”
“Motion?” I sounded like a dumbass, but her cleavage was on display and that sort of took up all the concentration I had left.
“Yes, like when you pitch.” She rolled her eyes. “I want to see the motion.”
“You thinkyoucan help me?”
“Yeah. I know I can.”
Chapter Eleven
Callie
Dad: You helped Zwillows throw?
Callie: Sort of, in a way. His release was off. I suggested it. He changed it.
Dad: My daughter helped Zwillows. This is every dad’s dream come true.
Mom: You’re both being dramatic. How are your classes, sweetie?
Callie: Fine, Mom. I’m going to love the clinical portion of the class. I can move ahead and do a special project seeing as I worked at the Sports Enhancement center all last year. So, the job is totally paying off. I get to shadow the athletic trainer!
Mom: Wow! See, honey, everything happens for a reason. You should trust us more.
Callie: Ugh, maybe you and Dad were a little right.
Mom: I know we were. But it pleases me to see you understand, even if it is a little bit.
Dad: We can bond later. Tell me about Zwillows.
Callie: But yes, Dad. It’s surreal. He’s a huge well-known talented pitcher but has mental issues and I’ve seen enough of those guys on the field growing up with you. I talked him through it.
Dad: I can’t say I’ve ever been prouder.
My dad saying he was proud of me stopped time. My chest swelled and I vowed to continue working my ass off in any way I could.
Excitement pounded in my blood as I snatched my bag and weaved my way through the old college campus, one of the first in the country. I loved the ivy and colors of the trees. I sighed, an annoyingly large smile on my face, and navigated my way to where my second course of the day, sports nutrition, met. The building’s small, familiar classroom welcomed me. I didn’t feel like I attended a school with forty-thousand-plus students—it was the same size as my high school classes. I smiled at the guy next to me before sitting down.
“Hi. How’s it going?” I pulled out my laptop and prepared to take notes. The polite guy smiled a little too big and a little too long at me before he sat up straighter. I was not a stranger to being hit on, but, it wasn’t something I aimed to happen or particularly liked. My smile faded a bit.
“Are you new here?” the guy asked. “I’m sorry to stare, but you sort of seem familiar.”
“I am new here, yeah. It’s my first year. My name is Callie. Are you a townie?” I held out my hand and he took it with a shy smile. I regretted judging him before knowing him. He had a good smile and aura. My mom always went on about getting a feel for someone at first meeting. Some people had good auras, while some people had red and yellow neon lights to avoid. The guy who wore an old band T-shirt and had shaggy blond hair seemed like a good one.
“I’m Radcliffe, the college townie. Born and raised here.” He cringed a little at my shocked expression. “I know, I know my name is out there. My friends call me Rad.”
