Page 91 of Vegas Heat

“Cooper Noah,” one of the men across the room says. He looks vaguely familiar, and as he approaches, I place him. He was an assistant coach for the Rockies a few years ago. “Joe Buchanan, the third base coach.”

“Great to see you, man,” I say, slapping him on the back. I glance over at the other coach standing near him. “And Chris Jarrett.” I reach out a hand to shake his. “Former first baseman for the Astros and now…”

“First base coach,” he announces proudly.

“Great to have you here,” I say.

“Likewise.” He nods, and I get another excited feeling that Troy and the brass upstairs have assembled a kickass team here.

Nick saunters up behind us. “The big three,” he says to Danny, Rush, and me, and he nods toward the treadmills. “You want me to put you through it today?”

“I already went for a run this morning,” I admit. I glance at Danny and Rush, who are looking at me with challenge in their eyes. I’m not one to back down from a challenge. “But I’m in for a second one.”

And then Nick hands us our asses.

Danny emerges the victor, Rush comes in second, and my slow ass learns real quick what it’s going to mean to get back into season shape. More black coffee, less nachos. And my hip hurts…not because I’m old as fuck, but because I was literally kicked out of someone’s bed this morning.

“Anyone want to head out to the field and toss some balls?” I ask.

“I need to shower and head to a meeting,” Rush says, wiping his face with a towel.

“I’m in,” Danny says with a nod. “Does this foursome work for poker?” he asks, nodding around to the three of us. He’s met with three enthusiastic confirmations. I know Danny fairly well already, but I’m interested in getting to know both Rush and Nick moving forward.

I need a brotherhood. I need the bond. I need the distraction from the constant ache in my chest knowing that Gabby is so close yet so far. Knowing that she’s meeting that jackass for coffee today. Knowing that I can’t have her.

I blow out a breath.

Focus, Noah,I tell myself.

It’s not like I can unload my woes on any of these guys. They’re too close to the picture—too close to Troy.

But at least I’ve got a group of guys I can play poker with. That’s something, anyway.

“Are you all free tonight around eight?” Danny asks before Rush leaves.

“I can’t,” Rush says. “Sorry. Next weekend maybe.”

“I can’t, either,” Nick says.

“I guess I’m the only loser without plans,” I admit to Danny, who laughs.

“Then let’s fuck up this town together. Or let it fuck us up.” He shrugs, and I nod with a laugh, glad to have plans for the night to distract me from Gabby and her newfriend.

Nick tosses me a glove since I don’t have mine here, and it’ll do. Danny grabs a bag of balls, and we head out to the infield.

I draw in a deep breath as I walk over toward third base. There’s no bag here, just the dirt, but it still feels like home.

Danny moves into position at first, and it feels like a long fucking way away considering I haven’t done this in three years.

We both do a few warm-ups to get the muscles moving, but I’m still pretty warm from what Nick just did to us in the weight room.

I pull a ball out of the bag, and I grip it in my palm for a beat as I stare down at the cowhide stitched together by the red laces.

How many thousands of baseballs have I held in my hands over the years?

And how have I gone this long without holding one?

God, I love this game.

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