Page 57 of The Third Baseman

My body did that thing again where it felt like it was about to malfunction. I looked away.

“Then give me some ideas, small things that annoy you.”

“More than Ace?”

“Yes, more than Ace.” I snorted quietly, making Jupiter smile.

He ran his fingers through his hair, stretching his arms over his head when he was done. “I don’t like how our bats are all jumbled together. I know they have name tapes on them, but they come off sometimes, and that makes them harder to find when we’re traveling.”

“What? You want everyone’s bats separated in their own little baggies?”

“No! But now I do.” His eyes widened, followed by a smile. “I kind of like the idea of our bats all being placed carefully in their own velvet pouches, like they’re precious jewels. Maybe even sealed in walnut cases, and presented to us officially before each game.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what I heard.” He shrugged, nodding to the board. “What’s that about sweat rates? And hydration levels?”

“Playing ball in Texas is going to be different than playing in Seattle. There’s a vast difference in temperature, as well as the type of air. It’s drier in Texas. If we can monitor each player for their optimum hydration levels, as well as how much they sweat per game, we can ensure that everyone works at the exact requirements for their body.”

He studied me for a second. “I’ve read something similar to that… they were talking about it at The Dodgers.”

“Yeah, but this would be monitored through your shirts with micro-sensors, in real time. Therefore, it can be adjusted during each inning. There’s a material being tested right now in Germany…”

He chuckled. “Of course there is, and of course you know about it already.”

I shot him a smug grin, which he returned with a knowing cock of his head.

“It’s similar to the material astronauts wear in their base layers,” I conceded.

He put his coffee cup down and leaned forward, his smile vanished. “Did you ever get to space, Marn?”

I dropped my head with a shake. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’d been approved to start the training program, but that was the day I’d taken the elevator ride in D.C. Then I’d have to explain why I didn’t continue with it, because there was no way he’d let it go. And that was a black hole of conversation I didnotwant to fall into.

Instead, I just went with a simple, “No, they needed me on the ground. Training is eighteen months minimum after you’ve been cleared, and I wasn’t ready yet.”

“Oh.” He picked his coffee back up, thankfully dropping that subject, but started on another. “How did you sleep the other night, Marn? Did you sleep well?”

I ignored him, and turned to the white wall.

“What about stargazing? Done any lately?”

“Can we stick to work, please?”

“I am working; humor me.”

I placed the lid back onto the marker pen he’d removed then shook my head. “No, I haven’t. I left my telescope in storage in Houston and haven’t had a chance to buy a new one. The city lights are too bright anyway, but I do have incredible views from my apartment, so that’s something.”

I hadn’t had much chance to view them considering I now seemed to live at Lions Stadium, but I had enjoyed watching the sun rise over the Hudson on the mornings we hadn’t been traveling.

“Oh, yeah? Gonna invite me over?”

“I don’t have any current plans to, no.” I held his gaze with determination, though I didn’t think the lack of invitation would stop him from coming over. There was a broken door in Miami which was proof of that.

“Maybe you could come over to my place then? I can show you my telescope…” His eyes flashed with mischief.

I bit down hard on my cheek, trying to quench the fire raging through me. “Jupiter…”

“Yes, Star?”

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