Page 69 of Hot Shot

She squeals and we cheer and the feeling burns itself into my mind.

“Okay,” I start, “when you throw it back, I want you to throw it like this.” I mime an overhand throw. “Don’t throw it yet—hold the ball like this, but turn your hips so your shoulder is pointed at me—no, not the one with the ball, the other—that’s it. Aim with your front shoulder,” I say as I kneel and hold up my glove. “All right, girl—point your shoulder at my glove and put it right here.”

The look on her face is absolute focus as she shifts, pointing her front shoulder at me, lips pursed as she pulls back and lets rip. The focus on her face opens in slow motion as she watches it fly in a straight line into my glove without a single adjustment on my end.

She explodes, and I laugh, chest puffed out in the mother of all proud dad moments. One of my first.

Cricket is wiggling out of her skin but tries to calm down. I toss the ball to her again, and she watches it like a hawk, catching it easily again. Before I can even coach her, she’s pitching it back just like I showed her. It hits my palm hard enough I feel it.

I decide then that she’s going to be an all-star pitcher and get a full ride to anywhere the fuck she wants.

After a few rounds, we find a rhythm, pitching the ball back and forth.

“This is fun,” she says, shifting to get under the ball I tossed. When she catches it, she takes a second to line up and then throws a tiny little bullet at me.

“It is. I’m glad you like it here, kiddo.”

“It’s the best,” she says, catching, throwing. “Cass is a good teacher, and my room is so fancy, and we had Sonic.Twice.”

I chuckle at herThonicand toss the ball back. “Was that the best part? The Sonic?”

She catches the ball but pauses, thinking. “That stuff was good, but I think the best part is how it’s fun here.”

Cricket throws the ball. I catch it, my chest aching. “It had to be scary though, coming to stay here when you don’t know us.”

When she catches my next toss, she hangs onto it, watching her shoe toe the dirt. “It kinda was. Mostly when I came with Nana and Pops that time. But then I really liked Cassie, and you were nice too,” she tacks on nervously.

I chuckle. “Cassie’s real easy to like.”

She smiles that toothy grin and pitches the ball. “But then I got here,” she starts, lighting up with every word until she’s beaming. “And I got to sleep in the big bed! And my room is so pretty, and the lights are cool, and I have all my old books! And I got Sonicobvriously,” she mispronounces, rolling her eyes with a smile. “And I got to go to a baseball game!” She sighs happily, but looks down again. “And it’s what Mama wanted. Mama wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. She wouldn’t make me go somewhere that isn’t safe. So I decided to be brave. Plus, I never had a daddy before, but I always wished I did.”

I was already a mess, but that one little sentence eviscerates me. I close the distance between us and crouch so we’re eye level. “I’ve never had a daughter before, but I always wished for one too. I think I like it.”

Her smiling cheeks are pink when she glances up at me. “Me too.”

My throat is tight, nose stinging. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anybody so brave, Cricket. What you did was hard and scary, and you’ve done a lot of hard, scary things lately.I wish we’d been together sooner, but I’m so, so happy we’re together now.”

“Me too.” An uncertain pause. “Can I…can I call you that? Daddy?”

I scoop her into a hug, squeezing her to my chest as if she could put my heart back together. Maybe she already has.

“You can,” I say softly. “I’m gonna miss you this weekend, bug.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Daddy.”

Nope. Heart is not intact—it’s hot liquid goo, spilling into my ribcage. I don’t let her go because if I do, she might look at me, and if she looks at me, I might do something crazy like cry and scare her off.

The sound of tires pulling into the driveway sobers me, and I let her go, but take her hand, needing to hang on to her for a second longer. I frown at the Wilson’s truck. When I look down, Cricket is frowning too. She looks up at me.

“I thought I was eating here?”

“Me too. But that’s okay. Go say hi and then run inside to get your stuff, okay?”

“Okay!” she says, popping back into an exclamation point before taking off in a sprint.

I pick up her glove from the grass and stand, walking over to the truck to greet the Wilsons. Cricket zooms past me for the house, and my head swivels so I can watch her, chuckling.

When I reach Paul, I shake his hand. “Sorry we didn’t have her ready, we weren’t expecting you until later. She hasn’t had dinner yet.”

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