Page 14 of Fastball Fever
"You know what this reminds me of?"Her eyes glimmer as brightly as the droplets splashing against her cheeks."That rain delay last week."
"Except we're both naked," I point out."And this time you can't claim it's colder than Siberia."
Amy rolls her eyes but steps closer, crowding me into the corner.
What's she up to now?Another mind-blowing fuck, naturally.And my coach won't let me go until I've satisfied her in every conceivable way.But one thought bothers me.
Was this a one-time thing?Or could it be more?
Chapter Eight
Midnight Practice
The training facility is supposed to be empty this time of night.Just me and the stars and my fastball.Shadows should be my only company, but a figure hovering near the dugout proves otherwise.It's Amy, buried in charts, her ponytail a slash of brown amid the dim light.I pause, taking in the unexpected sight.
Ever since our scorching sex in the dugout last week, Amy won't even look me in the eye, much less talk to me.On that night, she ran away—literally—without even saying goodbye.Women confuse the hell out of me.Well, it's not like I wanted a relationship.Did I?
The answer to my own question baffles me.That's not a good sign.
But today, I realize we need to talk about that night.So, I clear my throat."Couldn't sleep?"
Amy jerks her head up, eyes wide.Her shock wears off swiftly.I don't know whether to feel relieved or uneasy about her reaction.Either way, we need to talk things out.
She tucks a stray hair behind her ear."Charlie?I thought I'd be the only one crazy enough to come here this late."
I edge closer, trying to read the papers she's huddled over."What are you doing?"
"Checking your recovery stats," she replies, not missing a beat.Her gaze is cool, her voice measured."You're behind schedule, you know."
I let out a breath that's part laugh, part relief."Couldn't sleep either, huh?Thought maybe pitching a few would help me."
Her attention flicks back to the charts."You've got to take it easy with that shoulder.Otherwise, it won't be just sleep you're losing."
I don't know why, but hearing her concern almost makes me feel better.Almost.I cross my arms, trying to act casual, like being in this kind of limbo doesn't eat me alive."Nice to know I'm keeping you busy."
Her lips quirk in a faint smile, but there's something behind it, like she wants to say more but doesn't."I'm always busy, Braddock."
No more "Charlie, please, make me come."Nope, we're back to "Braddock" and chilly glances.
"Honestly, my shoulder is a lot better.Phil agrees.He told me so yesterday."
We stand here, the silence hanging heavily between us.I feel the pull to say something, anything that might break through whatever wall she's put up between us."You were a kid in the dugout, right?"
The question seems to catch her off guard, but her confusion quickly turns to something gentler."Grew up there.Just like you, probably."
"Dreamed of being the best," I admit."Aiming for Cooperstown from the time I could hold a bat, desperate to make it into the Hall of Fame."
"With all the progress you've made with your shoulder, you'll be back on track soon."
I shrug and change the topic."Living up to your dad's legacy…is that why you do it?Coaching, I mean."
Her gaze is unwavering, though she isn't looking at me.She stares into nothing, with the intensity of a pitcher staring down a batter."I owe my father that much."
I nod as if I understand the kind of pressure that makes her work herself raw.And maybe I do get it.We aren't so different, after all.Baseball has been my world for as long as I can remember.But right now, I need to push for an answer concerning one vital question.
So, I shove my hands into my pants pockets."Amy, why did you run away after we, uh, had sex in the dugout."
Amy bows her head, scribbling something on her clipboard."We had great sex, it's over, there's nothing else to say.We could both get in big trouble for what we did."
