Page 33 of The Third Baseman

I’d had a couple of ideas, but none of them had anything to do with my profession.

I sipped my coffee, then sat back and finished my toast as I stared at the wall – the white wall I hadn’t realized was covered in writable paint, and now in my scrawl.

On one side I’d scribbled a formula for movement based on Newton’s Second Law.

I’d mostly written it for something to do.

The other side was a list, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the list was probably the answer to success.

As I leaned further back, I spotted a large box on my desk. Very large; I’m not entirely sure how I hadn’t seen it when I walked in, large.

A pink Post-it had been stuck on the top, and I reached to grab it. At this point my heart thumped hard and then flickered, before sending mini ripples to my belly as I picked it up and recognized the handwriting.

In case you need them. x

Grabbing a pair of scissors, I scored along the tape at the top, opened it up, and brushed away the packing peanuts.

Holy shit.

I had to bite down hard on my lip to stop the smile emerging.

It was there, I could feel it… but I definitely didn’t want to acknowledge it.

He must have robbed Costco for this.

Staring back at me were boxes and boxesand boxesof LifeSavers. Mint ones, fruit flavored ones, variety bags of mixed flavors. I stood back and gawked at them, wondering what had possessed him to send these, then as I slowly removed a couple off the top layer, it became clear that the majority of them were cherry flavored.

There were easily a thousand bright red rolls.

Jupiter’s favorite.

Before I could stop it, an onslaught of cherry flavored memories slapped me upside the head;

his demands to kiss me whenever I had them, because he loved the taste of them on my tongue.

And then what else his tongue would do.

In a nanosecond, millions of goosebumps spread over my body, and I winced like I’d been scalded with hot honey.

My fist clenched around the bright pink paper, crumpling it into a ball as my teeth gritted and I shoved away all thoughts of his tongue and his face. Annoyingly it was becoming harder to do, especially now I’d been given fresh memories of this new, larger, more masculine Jupiter. Not that he’d never been masculine, but this one was…

Ugh.

The pink Post-it was dropped in the trashcan by my feet.

He wasn’t getting to me that easily.

Selecting a roll from the box, I pushed it between my fingers, turning it over and over, and resumed my position in the chair. Jupiter used to insist I bring them to every game, because he claimed they helped him win, something I always made fun of him for.

But he maintainedI’ve never lost with them, Star.

Not for one second did I believe LifeSavers helped him win. It was nothing more than superstition, and as a scientist, I didn’t believe in superstitions.

As a scientist I liked data, facts, reasons, proof.

LifeSavers did not help you win.

But Jupiter’s box of his favorite candy had reinforced an idea I’d been having. Searching through the books I’d spread over my desk, I found the one I was looking for and snatched it up, then took a quick snap of the wall. Security pass round my neck, I ran out the door and up to the owner’s suite.

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