Page 47 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. “Superstar? Hardly. These days, I’m more like a benchwarmer with a bum elbow. Loverboy? Yes, I am unapologetic.”

“Speaking of which,” Hunter leaned forward, his eyes softening with genuine concern, “how’s the recovery going?”

I rotated my arm carefully, pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain. “Better than expected. The doctor says I’m ahead of schedule. Your sister... man, she’s something else.”

Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“It’s not just the rehab exercises, you know?” I said, my voice softening as I thought about Taylor. “She’s got this whole program mapped out. Forearm and grip strengthening exercises, and flexibility work for my wrist and elbow, and we’re focusing a lot on my shoulder and scapular stability. The doctor says if I keep progressing, I might be cleared for some light tossing drills soon, but we’re not rushing it. Yesterday, I was getting frustrated with a wrist-strengthening exercise, and she just put her hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither are MLB pitchers.’ Somehow, it was exactly what I needed to hear.”

Hunter nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. “Taylor’s always had a knack for that. So, are things good between you two?”

I felt my face light up, warmth spreading through my chest. “Good doesn’t begin to cover it, man. It’s like... remember how I always said I felt at home on the pitcher’s mound? That’s how I feel with Taylor. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, UCL injury and all.”

“Wow,” Hunter whistled low. “That’s some heavy stuff, Van. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

I felt my smile falter slightly as reality crept back in. “Yeah, it’s just... L.A. and spring training are coming up fast. The team wants me back for monitored throwing sessions.”

Hunter leaned back, studying me. “You’re worried about leaving mid-recovery.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “I know it’s part of the job, but... I’ve never had a reason to want to stay before. Not even when my parents were alive. Plus, Taylor’s been soinstrumental in my recovery. What if I lose progress without her?”

Hunter reached across the table, clapping me on the shoulder. “Hey, if anyone can make it work, it’s you two. Taylor’s tougher than she looks, and you have a good head on your shoulders. Most of the time,” he added with a wink. “I’m sure she’ll set you up with a killer rehab plan to follow in L.A.”

I laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. “Thanks, man. I needed to hear that.”

As our burgers arrived, we drifted to lighter topics, and I signed a few autographs.

As we ate, my mind drifted back to Taylor and the journey we’d been on since returning to Coleman. From that kiss that led to a lie, to the failed public profession of love at the resort, and all the drama with Travis and Ellie. It had been a rollercoaster. Who would’ve thought that an injury could lead to something so life-changing?

***

The next evening, I found myself in Taylor’s living room, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. I sat on the edge of the couch, my left arm extended as Taylor guided me through a series of UCL recovery exercises.

“Okay, now let’s do some wrist flexor stretches,” Taylor instructed, her hands gently supporting my forearm. “How does that feel?”

I winced slightly as I followed her direction. “A little tight, but not as bad as last week. The pain near the surgery site is almost gone.”

Taylor nodded encouragingly; her green eyes were warm. “That’s excellent progress, Van. Remember, slow and steady wins the race. We don’t want to rush the healing process.”

As she helped me through the motion again, I was distracted by how the fading sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to spun gold. “You know,” I said softly, “I had lunch with your brother yesterday.”

Taylor’s hands paused for a moment. “Oh? And what did you two gossip about?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “You, mostly. And this stellar UCL recovery program you’ve got me on.”

“Should I be worried?” Taylor asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Nah,” I shook my head. “I just told him how amazing you are. How you’re not just helping me heal physically, but... everything else too. You’ve made this whole injury thing bearable, Taylor.”

A blush crept up Taylor’s cheeks. “Van...”

“I mean it,” I insisted, reaching out to take her hand. “Taylor, you’ve made me see a future beyond baseball. That’s... that’s huge for me.”

Taylor’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “Van, I—“

I couldn’t resist any longer. I leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. At that moment, the world fell away–no injury, no impending separation for spring training, just the two of us.

When we finally parted, Taylor rested her forehead against mine. “We should probably finish your exercises,” she murmured, though she made no move to pull away. “Can’t neglect that.”

---