Page 27 of Keep Me

“You want to be standing like this to start, then you’ll step forward when you throw it,” he instructs as he moves around to face me with a ball in his hands, which he drops into my opened glove. “You’re going to want to grip the ball with your middle and index fingers on top and your thumb underneath it.”

I take the ball out of my glove and do as he says. “Like this?” I hold it up to show him.

“Yes, once you have your aim and are ready to throw it, you’re going to want to take a step with your left leg. At the same time, your right arm will be cocked back, elbow up.” He demonstrates the movement for me, and I watch attentively. “Then you want to lean your body forward as you throw it, while twisting your hips to face forward.”

I go through the motions slowly with him, observing and watching each step.

I stand confidently. “Okay, I think I got it.”

“All right then, throw it to me,” he says as he jogs about fifteen feet away.

I do as told and adjust my stance, finding my aim and going through the motions of my throw. Except I know I messed something up because the ball goes right into the ground once I let it go.

I cover my face with my glove as laughter spills from my lips. When I take a peek at Ryker, he’s jogging back toward me and scooping the ball up in the process.

“I was awful.” I giggle, meeting his eyes once he’s close enough.

“You’re learning,” he corrects, then drops his glove on the ground and puts the ball in my right hand. “Put your arm up like you’re about to throw it.”

I do as he says, holding my arm up and back. Ryker’s body brushes against my back, his warmth searing my skin with how close he is. His hand wraps gently around my elbow, pulling it up a bit.

“Keep this elbow up higher, and”—he pauses, dragging his fingers slowly up my forearm, then wraps them around my hand—“release the ball here.” He moves our hands forward, stopping just past my face. “Not here.” He guides our hands further, nearly toward the ground like I just did before.

My heart beats wildly, and I’m pretty sure the sweat on my forehead has nothing to do with the oddly warm spring day.

His other hand grips my hip and twists it forward, making me gulp as I attempt to keep myself together. I wish I had the courage to take control, to turn around and press my lips to his like I would’ve years ago, but I don’t. A part of me has this gut feeling that I could be that way with Ryker, that he’d let me take charge. But another part of me is aware of the fact that this is nothing more than a silly crush and I shouldn’t let myself want more.

“Make sure you twist your hip forward when you throw, okay?” he asks, and I nod in response because he’s left me with the inability to utter any words at this point. Having his hands all over me and his deep, rich voice in my ear sends heat blooming in my core when it shouldn’t.

He moves back to his previous spot and I do as he says this time. The ball goes right toward Ryker, who catches it with ease. I jump up and down with the biggest smile on my face.

I did it. I finally learned how to throw a baseball. It might be a simple goal, but it’s something I wasn’t allowed to do before and always wanted to.

“Nice job, princess,” Ryker shouts from his spot. “You ready to catch one now?”

“Yup,” I shout back with my glove open, ready to catch.

Ryker winds up, but instead of the quick whips I’m accustomed to seeing him do, he throws me an easy toss. It’s aimed right at me, making it easy for me to throw my glove out and close it around the ball. I throw my hands up in the air and do a little dance, shaking my hips in a circle as I twirl around.

Once I stop, I find Ryker closer now, staring at me, his arms crossed over his chest and any warmth he previously had gone.

“What?” I ask, breathless.

“Practice is done,” he says harshly, a scowl on his face as he stomps away toward the dugout.

“Thank you, Ryker the biker,” I call after him with a smile on my face. Not even his sudden grumpy mood could dim my high. “But what about hitting?”

He stops and looks at me over his shoulder. “Another day. I need to go.”

Then he’s gone, leaving me on the field with my head in the clouds.

Chapter Eleven

Camille

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