Page 45 of Curveball

“Don’t fucking jinx it. Rip and I have been dreaming of this forever.” Her eyes light up. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet.”

“I can’t imagine it getting better than you living nearby.”

Her eyes sparkle. “They’re signing Ripley, Kamryn, and Bailey too. Our whole fucking UCLA gang is going to play together again.”

I’m speechless. Ripley St. James is moving to Philly? Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Q? Are you okay?”

Oh shit. I didn’t respond. “Sorry, I’m just shocked. Wow. Just, wow.”

“Yep. It’s amazing. Obviously I’ll get an apartment with Rip. Kam and Bailey mentioned trying to find one in the same building. Q, I think this is just what I need to break out of this post-Marc funk.”

My whole body tightens just thinking about what he did to her. Marc Whittaker didn’t just break her heart. He shattered her special Arizona spirit. She’s been a shell of the free-spirited, confident woman I’ve always known her to be.

She does need this fresh start. And as hard as it might be for me to have Ripley around, Arizona needs her. She needs both of us to be there for her.

I nod. “I think this could be great for you. Put that piece of shit in your past. Permanently.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Stop fucking beaning him every time you face him.”

I smirk. When I pitch against his team, I throw the ball right at his fucking head every damn time. I don’t care about getting ejected from the game. That fucker has it coming, and I’ll never stop. Though after the last time, the league threatened a suspension if I do it again.

She rolls her eyes. “I see you smiling.”

I chuckle. “It’s funny watching him wince when he gets nailed with a hundred-mile-per-hour pitch. I put a little something extra into it just for him.”

She sighs. “Don’t let him keep getting to you. You’re going to get suspended if you do it again.”

“It’s fine. We only have one more series against them this season, and it’s not for a while.”

“I’m staying away from that game, but I’m psyched I’ll get to catch you in action when it doesn’t interfere with my playing schedule. Maybe Mom and Dad will come out for a few days. They can see both of us play.”

I let out a laugh. “Yeah right. Don’t hold your breath. They’ll never leave that precious shop of theirs to fly across the country.”

“Ugh. You’re so hard on them.”

“Z, I’ve played pro ball for a dozen years, and they’ve never once come to a game.”

She sighs. She’s so defensive of them. “That’s not true. They go to your games in Oakland and San Fran every year.”

“They arrive in the fucking seventh or eighth inning every time. They don’t see shit.”

“They do the best they can.”

“Do they?”

Her face falls. “I’ll admit it’s kind of crazy. I’ll never be that kind of parent. I won’t miss anything for my kids.”

“That’s why I’m never having any kids. No one to disappoint.”

She rolls her eyes as she always does when I mention my lack of desire to be a parent. She thinks I’m kidding.

“Whatever. You’ll change your tune one day.”

“Unlikely. When are you moving?”

“My flight is a week from Monday. Ripley is coming on the same day. Kam and Bailey arrive a few days later.”

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