Stealing Home

“Nothing’s going on with us two.”


“Yeah? Is that why you can’t look at him without looking like you’re either about to cry or curse?”

When a collective groan echoed through the dugout, I sighed. Strike one.

“Did he tell you?” I asked.

“Didn’t have to.” When I twisted in my seat to see what he meant, he added, “I could tell. I could see it when he looked at you. I could hear it when he talked about you.”

I held my breath as the pitcher wound up. “Did you know about the arrangement?”

“What arrangement?” He cursed when Archer’s bat swung around, connecting with air. Strike two. “Are you two ‘arranged’ to be married or something?” When he moved to nudge me again, I slid down the bench a little to ease the impact. “What arrangement?”

Reynolds didn’t know. Probably none of the players did, I thought. It wouldn’t go over well that the team had set aside a special someone for one player but none for the rest of them.

“Never mind.” My tone came out too biting. Reynolds didn’t miss it.

“Listen, Doc, if Archer did something to hurt you, I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

My hands curled around the front of the bench as the pitcher stared Archer down with smugness on his face—two strikes, zero balls. We all knew where this was likely going.

“I know he might seem kind of distant at first, removed when you meet him, but it’s because he’s Luke Archer. He’s careful because women look at him and see a windfall.” Reynolds leaned forward on the bench with the rest of the players as the pitcher wound up again. “Just do him right, okay? He’s been done wrong before. He’s one of the good ones.”

I was saved my response when the pitcher threw his third pitch. Archer’s bat moved like he was swinging through rock instead of air. The ball hissed into the catcher’s glove.

Strike three.




THE TEAM BUS was silent after the game. Other than the rumble of the engine and the whir of air conditioning, the loss had taken the words right out of the team.

I’d managed to avoid Luke in the locker room, busy tending to other players who needed to be taped and stretched, but every once in a while, I felt him watching me. It was a strange feeling and one I’d never felt before. It felt like someone was tapping on my shoulder, trying to get my attention, but when I turned around, no one was there. Like my mind had made up the whole thing, and then I’d find Luke watching me with that same look I’d seen a lot the past few days—like he was trying to figure out a way to save something that couldn’t be saved.

As was my new habit, I’d slid into the seat beside Reynolds for the ride back to the hotel. He looked like he was asleep, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him harassing me about Luke again.

The bus had just pulled away from the Pioneers’ stadium when I noticed someone coming down the aisle toward us. With the way Luke was looking at me, it was no mystery where he was heading.

In a bus packed with people, it wasn’t like he could just stand in the aisle and have it out with me, and thankfully I had Reynolds taking up the seat beside me. But as soon as Archer came to a stop beside our row, Reynolds woke right up.

“Sorry, Doc.” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

“Reynolds,” I hissed under my breath when he moved to stand. I was not going to have another conversation like our first one with Luke on the team bus.

“You two have got some shit to clear up. I don’t know what it’s about or how you can fix it, but clear it up already.” Reynolds slugged Archer’s arm when he rose, then he lumbered down the aisle in search of a different seat.

Twisting around in my seat so I was angled toward the window, I tried to ignore the man standing in the aisle, watching me. I’d learned weeks ago that ignoring Luke Archer was impossible though.

“Are you going to sit?” I snapped under my breath when he continued to linger in the aisle. We were in the back of the bus and most of the team was more up front, but still. This wasn’t exactly a private place.

“Are you going to talk?”

“I already said everything I need to talk about.”

Luke slid into the seat beside me, his nearness taking me off guard. He shouldn’t have still been able to make me feel this way. Not after everything.

“Will you listen then?”

“I’m stuck in the seat beside you,” I answered, wondering what he thought he could say that would explain everything.

“What happened between us?” He twisted in his seat so he was almost facing me.

“I told you—we hit our expiration date. And there wasn’t an ‘us.’ It was you and me coming together to have sex,” I said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was tuning into our conversation.

“I don’t accept that. This wasn’t that kind of a relationship.”

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