Page 91 of The Shake Off

“I’ve been concentrating on getting my pitch back, and my head in the game. I’m doing it, so stop giving me a hard time. And if you really want to help, tell Coach to stop pulling me out early. I can pitch more than five innings.”

Jupiter smoothed down his dark beard, twisting the longer strands between his fingers like he was fucking Columbo. No doubt he’d be patting himself on the back for a job-well-done later.

“Okay,” he said as he stood up. “I need to head, I’m batting soon.”

I nodded to him, watching him walk off as I thought about his words.

I was surprised he hadn’t come out and accused me of taking drugs. The thing is, he wouldn’t be wrong.

Except my drug of choice wasn’t available on prescription.

Payton Lopez; human Prozac.

SEVENTEEN

PAYTON

Ace:Did you see it?

Ace:Tell me you saw it…

Ace:Never mind,tell me in the morning, you’ll be asleep

Ace:It was fucking awesome though

Ace:Sleep tight, Babycakes. Wish I was naked with you

Ibit down on my smirk, tossed my phone to the side and stretched out. I’d had the entire bed to myself.

I should have been relishing in the space, yet something felt… different. Weird, even. A little off.

I pressed my belly. Nope, I didn’t feel sick. I tried my chest, but my heart seemed to be beating just fine.

I stared up at the ceiling to see if that would help me figure it out like it always did for people in the movies, but nothing came to mind, and by the time I turned my head to look at the clock, I’d been staring for twenty minutes. If I stayed in bed any longer, I’d be severely running the risk of being late for work, and I was still trying to make a good impression on the fiftieth floor.

It was as I tiptoed to the bathroom that I realized I didn’t have to be quiet in case I woke the Sleeping Beauty I’d left in my bed.

Bingo. That must be it,the quiet.Maybe it was too quiet.

I reached for the Bluetooth speaker, switched it toZ100 New Yorkand turned up the music until it was loud enough to blast the funk away I’d clearly woken up with. I could sing in the shower while I washed my hair without the embarrassment of someone listening to my hopelessly out-of-tune voice.

And when I wrapped the towel around my head and walked back through to my bedroom, Ace wasn’t sitting up to watch me get dressed while he recapped every pitch and play from the night before, or ran through his statsone more time, or discussed his strategy for the day’s game, and what he planned to improve on.

I could sit with my thoughts and dry my hair in peace.

Sweet peace.

Though as I sat down, I couldn’t help but pick up my phone and click into his stream of messages. He was over on the west coast, so he’d definitely be asleep, and instead of replying, I pulled up the sports news to see what I’d missed before I texted him back.

The Lions had beaten The Giants 6–3 from multi-run home runs, courtesy of Tanner Simpson, Stone Fields, and Jupiter Reeves.

Ace had opened the pitching, and according toESPN, had caught the first ball he’d thrown. He’d pitched it so hard and fast it had bounced off the bat, heading straight back to the mound, and Ace’s glove. The Giant’s leadoff man was out.

The second batter connected, and the rolling grounder headed back toward Ace. In less time than it took to blink, Ace dived like he was David Beckham, stopped the ball, and tossed it over to Boomer Jones on first base. The second Giant’s batter walked back to the dugout.

I pulled up a clip on MLB.com to watch Ace pushing himself up off the field where the camera caught him winking to Parker with a grin I knew meant trouble.

CBS Sports, ESPN, FOX Sports, NBC Sports… all of them and more were reporting different versions of the same thing. How did Ace make that catch? How was this the same guy who’d pitched on Opening Day?

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