Page 68 of The Third Baseman

But it was there, the lowthrob, throb, throblike a distant helicopter somewhere in the skies above.

In the week since we’d been working together, we’d fallen in a routine bordering on familiar, possibly even comfortable,possiblyenjoyable – even if he refused to let up on his incessant teasing.

Perhaps this is what happened when exes were forced to spend time together. Perhaps this is how exes became friends. I hadn’t expected to ever see Jupiter Reeves again, let alone be in a room with him and having a civil conversation; an achievement I was surprisingly proud of myself for.

Friends.

Friends was something I could handle; something my heart could handle.

Friends didn’t have the power to shatter your world into a trillion pieces.

But friends did not send you presents with a price tag that equaled an annual salary.

I was pulling the covers back over my head when my cell buzzed. I was about to ignore it when I noticed Beulah’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey!”

“Hey! How are you? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I wish,” I groaned. “I’ve been awake for a while. What’s up?”

“Me, too! It doesn’t matter how late I go to bed, I seem to be hardwired to wake up at dawn.”

I didn’t have the energy to tell her about my delivery, so instead replied with, “tell me about it,” at the same time she said, “Do you wanna come boxing with me?”

I shuffled about on my pillow, making sure the cell’s microphones weren’t covered. “What did you say?”

“There’s a boxing gym I pass on the way to the stadium, and I always wanted to try it. There’s a class this morning. You in?”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Have you asked Lowe?”

Beulah chuckled. “She had plans which didn’t include boxing.”

I stretched long into my bed, arms over my head with a groan as bones cracked and muscles engaged. I wasn’t going to do myself any good staying here and stressing myself out trying to solve my Jupiter problem. And a couple of rounds with a boxing bag might even help.

“Sure, but can we get coffee on the way? Otherwise the boxing bag will be doing the rounds with me,” I laughed.

“You got it. Meet at the Coffee Grind near the University on Amsterdam in an hour?”

Yes! I knew where that was. I hadn’t been in the city long, but I had remembered where the best coffee spots were.

“See you there.” I hung up and jumped out of bed, impressing myself with the level of energy I’d managed to summon.

I got to the Coffee Grind in under the hour, beating Beulah, though I was only waiting a minute before I saw her jogging around the corner to me, dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. There hadn’t even been time to text and ask for her order.

“Hey,” she greeted, squeezing me in a hug. “Thanks for coming to this with me. I’ve wanted to go for ages, but I’m too chicken to go alone.”

I grinned at her. “Any time. I need to get some frustration out anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

I nodded; she knew exactly what I was talking about. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s get coffee then we can discuss it on the way. You’ll feel so much better once you’ve beaten the shit out of a giant leather bag.”

“I hope so,” I laughed. “Okay, what’s your order?”

“Ice black drip, please.”

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