She looked at me, her glorious green eyes growing misty, and raised a hand to push my hair back from my forehead. “Calvin, I—”
The roar of my screaming teammates filled the connecting locker room, and from the sound of them, we’d won. My eyes never left Whitney’s.
She tried again. “I’m—”
The training room door burst open, and guys poured in, checking on me. One by one, I told them I hadn’t heard back from the doc yet. One by one, they slapped my good shoulder, telling me to hang in there, and good luck. Shit like that. I thought poor Marty was going to cry.
Ace came last, and Whitney looked like she was tasting something sour. He stepped into the room. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, actually looking sincere. “You’re tough, for a rookie.”
I nodded, giving a little laugh.
He turned to walk out but stopped a couple paces from the door.
“I’m thinking of branching out, maybe opening up a bakery or something. Ace of Cake Batter. Kind of catchy, don’t you think?” His smirk was firmly in place.
Whitney’s mouth was hanging open. I knew mine had to be hanging open too.
“You don’t happen to know any sexy bakers who might want to run it for me, do you?” he asked, giving Whitney a wink, then looked down at her breasts because he was Ace Newman and that was the kind of shit he did.
As he sauntered out, Whitney looked at me. “Did he…? Is…?” She shook her head, still trying to decide if Ace was just pulling her leg.
“Sshhh.” We both looked up to find Ace standing in the doorway. He was holding a finger up to his lips. “Don’t fuck up my surprise, got it?”
We nodded dumbly, then looked back at each other as the door clicked shut.
I shook my head, unable to deal with any of that just now. “Forget about him,” I said, turning her toward me again. “What about leaving baseball? What do you think?”
Her lower lip trembled, and she pulled it into her mouth, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “Cal, I—”
The door opened, and I groaned, looking up to see the team doctor. He was followed closely by Rhett and Coach Griffin. I glanced back at Whitney, who was wiping her eyes before turning to face them. The atmosphere of the room had become oppressive.
The doctor nodded to Whitney and held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Walters. Sorry to be meeting you under such tense circumstances.” Whitney shook his hand, then placed hers right back into mine, linking our fingers together.
“Well,” I began nervously, “what’s the verdict, doc?”
He didn’t smile, which made my balls shrink in alarm. “The good news is that it’s a severe strain and not your rotator cuff. You won’t require surgery.”
Whitney sagged beside me in relief.
“What’s the bad news?” I asked him, tightening my jaw to take the blow. I could tell by the look in his eye that I wasn’t going to like his answer.
“Your season’s over, Calvin, but not your career. Six months of rehab then we’ll reevaluate, but I’m optimist that you’ll be back for season two.”
It was like he punched me in the gut. I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I wasn’t really sure if my heart was keeping a good rhythm. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass out.
Rhett spoke up, “That’s a relief. Good to know we’ll get you back.”
I smiled at him, blinking several times to clear my vision. “Thanks.” I didn’t promise him I’d work hard in rehab or that I’d be better than new when I came back. I didn’t know myself. I might be a high school physical education teacher by this time next year, coaching t-ball on the side.
There was more talk about therapy, things I only half listened to as a million what-ifs floated through my mind. Finally, the door closed behind the men, and it was only me and my girl again.
She turned back to me, lifting her hands to cup my face, her lips pressing against mine for the sweetest kiss I’d ever received.
“Okay,” she said on a long breath, “what’s the worst case scenario here?”
I pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, then stroked her soft cheek again, swallowing hard. “Losing you.”
She smiled, her eyes growing wet. She blinked back the tears, looking up to keep them at bay. “You’re not losing me regardless of the scenario, so let’s focus on career stuff. What are the options?”
“Well, since this isn’t a career-ender, I could be on the disabled list while I rehab, then come back next year like doc said.”
“Or…?”
I kissed her forehead. “Or we go home, give all this up, and I become a high school coach or some shit.” I kissed her forehead again, then the tip of her nose. “Marry my girl, have a few rug rats, and live happily ever after.”
She snuggled closer, her face pressed into my neck. “Would you be happy with that?”
“Sweetheart, wherever you are, I’ll be happy, and I know we’ll make it work.”
She pulled back, looking me in the eye again. “You’d really give all this up?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“What about your contract?” she asked, chewing her bottom lip.
That would be a problem, a big one.
“I’ll deal with it,” I told her with more confidence than I felt. I’d get sued and lose everything. Except Whitney. I wouldn’t lose her, and that was good enough.
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine again, harder this time. I wrapped my good hand in her hair to deepen the kiss. She made that adorable little sigh that assured me she was happy. I’m pretty sure I made a similar one.
She pulled back, just an inch, still so close that her breath warmed the space between us. “Do you know what it means to me for you to be willing to give all this up?” I just smiled and continued to stroke her hair. “I love the idea of going home, of getting regular jobs and living a normal life together.”
My heart squeezed. Damn. I hated to give it up, but normal seemed pretty good too.
“But…” she went on, poking me in the chest with a fingernail, “if you quit, I’ll never forgive you and will personally kick your ass all the way to Indiana before kicking it all the way back here and forcing you to play.”
I blinked, and she laughed, a beautiful, musical sound.
“I love you, Calvin. And we’ve had a tough few months, but neither of us are quitters. Got it?”
I kissed her nose. “Yes, ma’am.”
She backed up a step and held out a hand. “Alright then, let’s get you out of that uniform. I’m starving.”
Smiling like a crazy man, I followed her out of the door to the locker room. “Better close your…” She screamed and whirled around, her hands clamped over her face. “Eyes,” I finished with a laugh, looking around.
Dicks and ass. Yep, my girl just saw them all.
She’ll probably never be the same.
Whitney
My cheeks were still burning by the time we left the locker room. At least now I could understand why Holly was so enthralled with Ace. Holy dick! He could use that thing for a bat.