Page 23 of Big Pitch Energy

“As of yesterday, my fastball is routinely at ninety-two,” I said.

Hope nodded, her eyes softening.

“I can really feel things opening up,” she said. “The energy’s flowing a bit more freely than when we first met.”

I shook my head and chuckled.

“I still don't understand how your hands hovering over me makes that happen, but I'm not questioning it.” I took a sip of beer and set the bottle down. “And I definitely can’t deny it’s helping.”

“Smart man,” she said around an adorable grin.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you got into yoga and Reiki. It seems like a pretty unique path.”

“I told you about how I moved a lot when I was a kid.” I nodded. “Constantly being in a new town and new school with no real friends gave me a lot of anxiety. In college, my friend Tiffany dragged me to yoga, promising it would help.” She laughed softly. “I went to shut her up, but ended up falling in love with the practice. Eventually, I got certified as an instructor, and that led me to Reiki. It felt natural, like I was helping others find that calm too.”

“That’s awesome,” I said. “And it’s great you’ve found a way to make a living doing what you love and helping people at the same time.”

“I was pretty lucky, honestly. I had a job in Wilmington that paid well, so I was able to save up a good chunk before making the move to Starlight Shores. It gave me money to fall back on and the time I needed for the yoga studio to start turning a profit.”

“That kind of cushion makes a big difference,” I said. “I imagine starting something new is a whole lot less stressful when you’re not worried about making rent.”

“Definitely.” I took a sip of wine. “What about you? Tell me how you ended up being theCherry Bomb.”

She used quote marks on the nickname I was given back in the minor leagues.

Before I could answer, the server returned with a plate of calamari, setting it down between us with a smile. I reached for a lemon wedge, grateful for the moment to collect my thoughts before diving into the story.

“I played everything when I was younger—basketball, football, baseball. But baseball was always the one I loved the most. Once I hit fifteen, I started playing travel ball and really focused on pitching. I still played the other sports in high school, but baseball was the one I wanted.”

I dragged a piece of calamari through the remoulade sauce and popped it into my mouth.

Hope nodded, her compass necklace glinting in the candlelight.

“Your mom is amazing. She practically glows when she talks about you.”

“She really is, and I owe her everything. She busted her ass working two jobs to support us and picked up a third just to cover gear and travel ball costs,” I said. “And despite that, she never missed one of my games. It’s still weird when she’s not in the stands.”

We ate in comfortable silence until the appetizer was completely gone. She took a drink then looked at me with soft eyes as she set her glass down.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted her to.

“Where’s your dad?”

Hope

Before he could answer,the server returned, balancing two steaming plates in his hands. He set them down gently, and my mouth watered as the warm scent of Old Bay, garlic, and parmesan rose from the plate, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

We both dug in, and for a while, the only sounds were clinking silverware and murmured appreciation for the food. After a few bites, Sam set his fork down and looked at me.

“My dad was an alcoholic,” he said, his voice steady but low. “It got worse after I was born, and when I was four, he agreed to go to rehab. That was the last time we saw him.”

My chest ached for him and Liz. I reached across the table and took his hand, my fingers curling around his.

“Have you ever tried to find him?” I asked, not pushing, just curious.

He shook his head slowly.

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