Spring Training

“Honey, anyone with eyes could see that boy has it bad for you.”


Panic began to set in. “Oh, no. No, it’s not like that at all, Amy. We’re hanging out. Dad sent me here to keep an eye on him. I’m doing my job.”

“That’s some job description.” Amy’s laugh was loud and boisterous. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Jessa. Your secret is safe with me.”

*

“Ow!”

Garrett watched from the doorway as the doctor worked to stabilize Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler’s face was flushed, his eyes burning a hole through Garrett’s forehead. Garrett offered him a hint of a smile, a showing of support his friend so obviously needed.



Garrett winced in sympathy as the next line of expletives burned his ears.

“What are you trying to do, Doc? Rip my damn arm off?”

Unaffected by his gruff, the doctor helped Tyler out of his jersey. “Looks like you did a good job of that yourself, Tyler.” The good doctor smiled. “Without any help from me.”

With speed and efficiency, the doctor wrapped a stabilizer around Tyler’s chest and shoulder, tightening the Velcro straps around his arm. Seeming satisfied no further damage could be done, Dr. Adlyn stepped away from his patient and turned to Garrett. “There’s a lesson to be learned in all this.”

Tyler snorted. “Oh, please. Enlighten us, o’ wise one.”

Garrett chuckled. Dr. Adlyn was a relatively young and good-looking man. Garrett guessed he wasn’t much into his forties and was one of the greatest damn orthopedic doctors in the country. As hands go, Tyler was in the best.

Dr. Adlyn smirked and shook his head. “Obviously, the pain meds haven’t kicked in, so he’s a bit grumpy.”

“You think?” Tyler snapped, sitting on an examination table, swinging his feet like a three year old who needed to pee. The tension radiating from him was pliable, the sense of foreboding thick in the air. This couldn’t be good.

Garrett gave up the safety of doorway and walked into the room. “Give the doc a break, Ty. He’s only trying to help.”

Dr. Adlyn clapped Garrett on the shoulder. “See that he doesn’t hurt himself further until I get back. I’ve got to go make some arrangements for our friend here.” He headed toward the door. “Save the heroics for when it counts, boys. That’s the lesson here.”

Garrett couldn’t argue with the doc’s parting shot. Tyler had been careless. Not paying attention. Distracted.

It could’ve been me.

Garrett hadn’t been paying attention either. Hell, he hadn’t even seen what happened, his thoughts being centered on the woman who was changing his world and all. Garrett had only been a few yards away, yet couldn’t give an accurate account of how Tyler got hurt other than to generalize. Ball hit high toward the first base stands. It should’ve been a routine play.

Only now, this play would make the lead story on every sports channel highlight reel tonight.

Garrett had been the one distracted.

Several times last night he’d reached out, searching, wishing he’d find Jessa there. Wanting to curl into her delicious body and lose himself in her heat.

But she hadn’t been there. All he’d had was the lingering scent of her skin on his sheets. A scent that made finding sleep hard and his dick harder.

He clenched his fists at the memory, shoving it deep into the recesses of his brain. This was not how he’d imagined things to go. He was here to play ball. That’s it.

He’d do well to remember it, too.

Sighing, Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tyler. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

Tyler snorted. “Rotator cuff.”

Garrett grimaced, understanding the ramifications of that kind of injury. “Sorry, man.”

Tyler shrugged, then let out a groan. “Damn it. Don’t make me move.”

Garrett stifled a laugh. As if he could make Tyler do anything.

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