Page 17 of Healing Hearts
Chapter 7
Brooke
The red rubber ball soars through the air, and I can't help but steal another glance at the neighboring field. There he is - Dr. Trevor Jacobs, trauma surgeon extraordinaire, darting between his buddies with surprising agility for a man who spends most of his time standing for hours on end in an operating room. His muscled arms flex as he reaches to catch the football, and I feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with the game I'm supposed to be playing.
"Brooke! You’re up!" calls out Sunni, our team captain. "We're tied. Do you think you can bring this home?"
I nod, trying to shake off the butterflies in my stomach. "I'll do my best," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel. Focus, Brooke. This isn't one of your romance novels, I tell myself internally.
I take my position, eyeing the pitcher warily. The game's intensity hangs in the air, thick as the humid Florida breeze. My teammates' encouraging cheers fade into background noise as I zero in on the ball the pitcher is holding on the mound.
"You've got this, Brooke!" yells Kendall from the dugout.
"Less yapping, more kicking!" the opposing team's captain shouts impatiently.
I take a deep breath, trying to channel some of the confidence I feel when I'm lost in my writing. The ball rolls towards me, and I know this is it - our one chance at victory.
Just as I'm about to make contact, a deep voice carries across from the other field. "Now that’s what I’m talking about!"
My head snaps up instinctively, and I catch a glimpse of Trevor's dazzling smile. In that split second of distraction, my foot connects with the ball, sending it rocketing into the air.
The satisfying thwack echoes across the field. Time seems to slow as I watch the ball soar over the infield, a perfect arc against the cloudless sky.
"Holy crap, Brooke!" Kendall's voice pierces through my daze. "Run!"
Right. Running. That's a thing I should be doing right now.
My legs spring into action, propelling me towards first base. The rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins drowns out everything except the thundering of my own heartbeat.
As I round second, I catch another glimpse of Trevor. He's paused his game, watching my mad dash with an expression I can't quite read. Is that admiration in his eyes? Or am I just projecting my own desires?
"Keep going!" Grace screams, waving her arms wildly from home plate. "It's going all the way!"
I pump my legs harder, my lungs burning with the effort. This is it. Our chance to prove that a group of misfit women can actually win something.
"Almost there!" Kendall's voice cuts through my inner monologue. "You've got this, girl!"
I round third base, my heart pounding so hard I swear it'strying to escape my chest. That's when it happens - our eyes lock. Trevor's intense gaze meets mine, and suddenly, the world narrows to just the two of us.
Oh god, I think, feeling a jolt of electricity course through me.Shit! He's watching. He's actually watching me.
In that moment of distraction, my foot catches on itself. Time slows as I feel myself falling forward, the ground rushing up to meet me.
"No, no, no!" I cry out, more in my head than aloud.
I hit the dirt with a graceless thud, sliding across home plate in a cloud of dust. For a split second, there's silence. Then...
"Safe!" the umpire bellows. "Game over!"
A cacophony of cheers erupts around me. My teammates swarm, pulling me to my feet, hugging me, screaming with joy.
"We won! We actually won!" Charlie shrieks, jumping up and down.
But I can barely process their excitement. My mind is consumed by one burning question:
"Did he see?" I mumble, my eyes searching for Trevor.
"Did who see what?" Kendall asks, giving me a curious look.
