I picked up my head and grinned at her. “You’d miss my big therapeutic dick?”

“I wouldn’t even know about that. If your pitching career hadn’t ended, I bet you wouldn’t even be here. You’d be on the field in some random city tonight, you’d fly here tomorrow to see Sadie get married, and fly right back out again.”

“St. Louis,” I told her, lowering my lips to her other breast. “I’d be in St. Louis right now.”

And it shocked me to realize that I was actually glad I wasn’t.

We made good use of the remaining condom, then fell asleep almost immediately. That was another surprise—normally I didn’t like sharing a bed. I preferred sleeping toward the center of the mattress, I tended to hog the blankets, and I really didn’t like to be touched while I was sleeping. And since I was a light sleeper, other people always seemed noisy to me during the night. Back when I’d had a sex life, I’d had a strict no-sleepover rule.

But I didn’t mind having April next to me at all. For one, she stuck to one side of the bed. Two, the only sound I heard was her breathing, and I liked it. Three, she smelled so good, it was like aromatherapy or some shit. I found myself snuggling up behind her just to get more of the scent. And I slept hard, even better than I had the night before.

When I woke up, I was alone in the bed. The room was still dark, but I could see a slash of light coming from under the bathroom door. I checked my phone and discovered it was just after seven. Then I lay back, hands behind my head.

The toilet flushed, the sink ran, and a moment later, she came out of the bathroom, leaving the light on. She stood at the foot of the bed, looking mussed and adorable and a little apprehensive.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“You shared the covers.”

“I did.”

“Was it terrible?”

I shook my head. “Just the opposite, actually. So why don’t you come back to bed and I’ll work on sharing some more.”

She laughed. “I wish I could, but I should probably get home. I have a big day ahead.”

“Me too. And I promise I’ll take you home in a minute. But first, come here.” I reached for her with one hand.

Smiling, she took my hand and let me tug her back into bed. Pulling up the covers, I wrapped my arms around her and tucked her head beneath my chin.

She rested her cheek on my chest and tossed an arm and a leg across me. “That’s what you said to me that night, you know.”

“What night?”

“In your truck. On the detour. You said ‘come here’ right before you kissed me.”

I laughed. “Did I? That was my big line?”

“Mmhm. And it worked.”

“I thought it was something with your hair.”

“Well, it was that too. You put your hand in my hair and then you said it.”

“That was all it took, huh?”

“That was it.”

I kissed the top of her head. “I have better game now.”

“You know what? I liked it. It didn’t feel like game. It felt real.”

“It was.” I held her a little tighter. “It was real.”

After a quick room service breakfast—fruit and coffee for April; eggs, bacon, fruit, waffles, and coffee for me—I dropped her off at Cloverleigh Farms to get her car and told her I’d see her tonight. The weather was beautiful already—sunny, mild, cloudless—and the temperature was supposed to reach the low seventies by later afternoon. She was thrilled because Sadie was going to be happy.

Afterward, I went back to the hotel, worked out at the gym, grabbed a shower, and headed over to the high school field.

A thousand memories flooded my brain as soon as I got out of the car and looked up at the lights, the stands, the dugouts, the mound. It was just after ten, and the team was warming up by running sprints.

David saw me approaching and lifted a hand. I waved back and walked over to where he stood along the fence. “Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” He shook my hand and smiled. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, watching as the team finished up the sprints and another coach yelled instructions at them. They scattered, grabbing their gloves and spreading out on the field.

“The kid I wanted you to see is the last one down on the right,” he said. “Come on, let’s mosey in that direction so you can take a look.”

“Sure.” We ambled slowly along the fence, and a nice, familiar feeling settled over me as I watched the team playing catch in the morning sun. I’d missed being around baseball.

As we walked, David pointed out different players, told me about the team’s record, what the remainder of the season looked like, which guys might have a shot at college ball. “No one is like you, of course—never has been and never will be another Tyler Shaw—but we’ve got some talent. Chip there, the lefty, has been talking to a few schools.”

I watched the kid throw—he did have a good arm. “Oh yeah? Which ones?”

“Clemson, LSU, Florida State.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he’s got talent.” David squinted at the field. “Got kind of a tough family situation though. I think it’s messing with his mental game.”

Nobody knew better than I did how critical the mental game was. “How so?”

“Well, his dad died suddenly a year or so ago. Mom moved them up here to be closer to her family. But I think he worries about leaving her alone. There’s a little sister too.”

Immediately, I felt sympathy for the kid. “That’s hard.”

“Yeah. He’s talking about sticking around here, but his mom really wants him to go away to college. She’s trying to talk him into it.”

“An education is a good thing,” I said. “Since all this happened with my arm, I’ve wondered a few times if I should have gone that route.”

David nodded, and I braced myself for the usual barrage of hindsight advice. But it didn’t come. “Nah, I think you did the right thing for you. But I agree with his mom, and I hope he gets a good enough offer from one of those schools. I think he will, if he can gain a little more control before the season finishes up.” He looked at me. “Want to watch him pitch?”

“Sure.”

“Hey, Chip!” he hollered.

The kid turned around. “Yeah, Coach?”

David waved him over. “Come here. I want to introduce you to someone.”

The kid, tall and trim with long limbs, came jogging over. He wore a cap over his shaggy brown hair, but tipped up the bill a little to meet my eyes.

“Chip, the man standing before you is none other than—”

“Tyler Shaw.” The kid grinned. “I recognize you.”

I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “Nice to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand.

He shook it, looking a little awestruck. “You too.”

“This is your lucky day, Chip. Tyler is only in town for today, but he says he’s got a little time to watch your motion and give you some feedback.”