“Good. Tell me, without squinting, what pitch do you see.”
“Four-seam fastball.”
I flip through the notebook, and he correctly calls out each pitch.
“Two-seam, change-up, slider, curveball.”
Closing my notebook, I walk toward him. “Good, so there’s no problem with your eyesight. I always check that first, because if everything else is right and you’re blind, that could be a big hindrance to what we’re working on.”
“I could have told you I wasn’t blind.”
I pick up his bat that he tossed to the side and hand it to him. “Yeah, all the guys say they’re not blind. I don’t believe them until they take my test.”
“All the guys?” He takes the bat and offers a soft thank-you.
“Yeah, I’ve helped a few, two were fitted for glasses the next day after my little eye exam and they’re batting averages went from the low two hundreds to a solid three.”
“Damn. Well, I’m glad I passed.”
“With flying colors.” Feeling much more at ease, I say, “Get in your stance.”
He lifts the bat, adjusts his feet, and looks toward the pitching mound.
“Hold it there while I do some examining. Is it okay if I touch you?”
“I mean, just don’t cup my junk or anything.”
I know he’s joking, but it still makes my face flame, which I know turns my cheeks an awful shade of red. Ducking under my hat, I walk to the back of him so he can’t notice my embarrassment. “I . . . I won’t be grabbing your, uh, junk.”
He chuckles. “I know, I was just kidding.”
“Oh yeah, I know,” I say awkwardly.
Letting out a large exhale, he drops his hands and turns toward me, his large frame towering over me. “Maybe we should clear some things up before we start getting technical with my swing.”
“We don’t need to clear anything up. We can just—”
“Milly. We haven’t had the best interactions, and I want to make sure we’re cool.”
“Yup.” I stare down at the ground. “Totally cool.”
Apparently, me trying to avoid the conversation doesn’t work for him, because he reaches out and places his finger under my chin. With a small lift, he forces me to meet his eyes, the one place I didn’t want to look.
“Humor me, okay?”
My eyes blink a few times as I swallow hard. I’ll give him this; he’s very handsome. Chiseled jaw, enhanced by a soft tan. The lightest of scruff dances across his face, and his lips have a pink pout I would never have expected in a guy. And then there are his eyes, a brilliant blue bordered by long, dark eyelashes. It’s said the eyes are the gateway to a person’s soul, and I can fully believe that when it comes to Carson Stone.
“Okay,” I answer softly just as the wind picks up, blowing his fresh-soap scent in my direction. What is it about the scent of a spring mountain that makes a girl giddy inside? I mean, not giddy, but that did smell nice, really nice.
He releases my chin and props his hands on his bat. “I’ve been a bastard lately for reasons I don’t need to get into, but—”
“Well, there’s your injury, not being drafted, and then having a hard start to the season,” I list off, not even thinking about it.
He pauses and then shakes his head while chuckling. “Yeah, kind of nailed it.” He pulls on the brim of his backward hat. “I haven’t been myself, and it seems you’ve caught the brunt of that this past week, and I want to apologize.”
“Like I said, it’s fine.”
“It’s not. I treated you like a dick in the dining hall, in the weight room, and then at the field. I’ve just . . . fuck, I’ve had every person I know tell me how to fix my swing, and it’s too many cooks in the kitchen, you know?”
“Totally. It’s like all the information is too consuming, and you’re adjusting too many things at the same time.”
“Exactly.” He sheepishly smiles and lightly taps my leg with his bat. “You get it.”
Oh God, that was cute.
Keep it together, Milly.
“When my brothers went through a dry spell and their coaches tried to fix whatever the problem was, they shut them out and came to me. We worked quietly together and fixed whatever kink there was in their swing.” I toe the ground. “Baseball is eighty percent mental, and the rest is muscle memory. If your muscle memory is off, then your mental state is going to be thrown for a loop, which will