“Milly. This is perfect.” I wrap an arm around her and give her another hug. “Thank you so much. This means a lot to me.”

  “Oh . . . you’re welcome.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose once we part. Her demeanor lightening. “So . . . you’re not mad?”

  “Come on, Coach. How could I be mad at you? You have single-handedly switched my season around. I’m not mad, I’m fucking grateful.”

  That beautiful smile appears, her dimples deepening. “Okay, good.” She lets out a pent-up breath. “Well, I’ll uh, let you get to—”

  “I was telling Gunner about your wicked spin.” I don’t want her to leave just yet. “He said he wants to book a lesson.”

  Her face softens as she looks at the ground and chuckles. “It’s pure luck whatever comes off my hand.”

  “Pish, you and I both know that’s not the truth.”

  “Well, maybe not entirely true, but my spin is a secret.”

  “I think Gunner would pay heavily in tacos if you let him.”

  Her face falls for a second and I wonder what I said that caused such a reaction, but I don’t have much time to think about it as she takes a step backward.

  She points at my glove and says, “Have a good weekend. Remember, drive your hands forward, not down.”

  With a half-happy smile, she goes to take off again. “Hey.” She pauses and I try to think of something to say to her, anything that will get her to smile at me one more time before I leave. “Uh, would it be okay if I text you this weekend?”

  Her smile is gentle, but it’s still there, a small glimpse of what I crave. “Yeah, you can text me, Carson.”

  Clutching my glove to my chest, I say, “Thanks, Coach.” I wave and watch her get in her car, wondering why I really wish I’d snagged one more hug from her before she took off.

  * * *

  Carson: Any wise words before the game today?

  Milly: Hit the ball.

  Carson: Wow . . . I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so profound before.

  Milly: A regular old Hemingway over here.

  Carson: With such inspirational words, they might slap your quote up on a wall with your name beside it, something players pat before every game.

  Milly: I could see it happening.

  Carson: Are you going to watch online today?

  Milly: I have a game with my little league team, or else I’d consider it. Watching the animated play-by-play is torturous. I don’t know why they can’t livestream the games.

  Carson: The boys have a game today? That’s cool. Wish them luck for me.

  Milly: Sure, I’ll let them know Carson Stone wishes them luck. They’ll all probably drop dead right before the game.

  Carson: I wish my schedule didn’t conflict with theirs, or else I’d be there practicing with them. We do have the same coach after all.

  Milly: Yeah and oddly, they listen better.

  Carson: Bullshit. When have I ever given you any sass?

  Milly: I can see it in your eyes.

  Carson: What you’re seeing is pure appreciation. Did you know that, Milly? I appreciate you.

  Milly: Well, prove it today with some hits. Good luck, Stone.

  Carson: Thanks, Coach.

  * * *

  Carson: Two for three today with a triple.

  Milly: I saw online. That’s so great.

  Carson: Thought I was going to pull my groin running. I was really booking it.

  Milly: And here you were talking to me about the importance of stretching for dipping a chip. Same goes for your legs, Stone.

  Carson: The adrenaline got to me and my brain was telling my legs to move faster than they could.

  Milly: But you didn’t pull it, did you?

  Carson: No, thankfully. But I do have a bag of ice on my crotch.

  Milly: Can’t read that enough.

  Carson: Slightly terrified of getting a penis popsicle.

  Milly: Just defrost it with your hand.

  Carson: I literally just barked out in laughter, and now every one of my teammates it staring at me.

  Milly: At least they’ll be staring at you for laughing like a crazy person, rather than having a column of ice poking out of your pants.

  Carson: What have you done with my coach?

  Milly: Same girl, same coach. You’re just getting to see the side my brothers do.

  Carson: I like it.

  * * *

  Carson: Gunner snored last night. I chucked pillows at him at least three times. Claims it’s a head cold.

  Milly: Were you sharing a bed?

  Carson: He wishes. We shared a room. Normally I share with Jason but for some stupid reason, Coach switched it up on us. I wasn’t equipped to be sleeping with a snorer.

  Milly: I’ve slept in a hotel bathroom tub once because all three of my brothers and my dad were snoring. Let’s just say my night was miserable. But, the moments on the road with them I wouldn’t trade for anything.

  Carson: I wish I had moments like those with my dad. He couldn’t make it to a lot of games. Did you have a good night’s sleep?

  Milly: Had to deal with some RA drama last night. Two girls were fighting over the same guy. It was stupid, but I caught up on some sleep. I forgot to ask, how was the glove?

  Carson: Amazing. Thank you so much.

  Milly: Sure. Anytime. I’m still really sorry I was late.

  Carson: Milly, you were right on time. Thank you.

  * * *

  Carson: I’m exhausted.

  Milly: Twenty-four innings in two games will do that to you.

  Carson: At least we pulled out the win for both.

  Milly: Three for four in one game, two for five in the other with five RBIs. I’m impressed, Stone.

  Carson: Impressing my coach means a whole lot to me. Hitting the showers.

  * * *

  Carson: Are you up?

  Milly: Yeah, are you still on the bus?

  Carson: It’s the never-ending drive. We just finished watching a movie.

  Milly: What movie?

  Carson: Do you really want to know?

  Milly: I kind of do.

  Carson: Legally Blonde.

  Milly: You are such a liar.

  Carson: Swear on my bat. The guys have a thing for Reese Witherspoon. On the way to Indiana, we watched Sweet Home Alabama.

  Milly: I am utterly shocked. I thought you would be watching movies like The Avengers, or something like that.

  Carson: We watch those too, but it was a Reese weekend.

  Milly: The secrets behind Brentwood baseball. Any other tidbits you might want to share that will make me laugh?

  Carson: Gunner always wears pink briefs when he pitches. He washed a white load with a red shirt to make them pink. They’re his lucky charm.

  Milly: LOL.

  Carson: Jason has a lucky ribbon he ties in his hair before he puts his catcher’s helmet on.

  Milly: Stop it. Do you have any lucky charms I should know about?

  Carson: Right now? I’d say texting you before each game.

  * * *

  Carson: You still awake?

  Milly: Just got into bed. What’s up?

  Carson: Never mind.

  Milly: Okay, do you really think that’s going to work? Tell me.

  Carson: I’m outside your dorm.

  Milly: Really?

  Carson: Yeah, come down really quick.

  Chapter Twelve

  CARSON

  Its chilly, late, and I’m desperate for my pillow right now, but I couldn’t leave campus, not without seeing her.

  It’s strange. I thought about her all weekend, but not just the mechanics she taught me, or the advice she’s given me. It was in a different way. I thought about her sweet, but stern voice. I thought about the way her right dimple seems to sink deeper than her left. I thought about the way she tosses her hair through the back of her hat, and I thought about her laugh and how it has a slight rasp to it.

  I didn’t think about her as a coach, but as a girl I can’t seem to get my mind off, which I thought would be a bad thing, given my need to focus on the game and the specifics of how I bat, but it didn’t take away from my mental game. In some respects, because the game wasn’t all I focused on, I wonder if thoughts of Milly enhanced it. Her presence in my thoughts gave me . . . calm. A place away from the pressure somehow. Is this Knox and Holt meant when it came to their girls being an escape? A good escape?

  Not saying that Milly is by any means my girl, but oddly, she’s always on my mind.

  The dorm door swings open and Milly appears wearing a baggy pair of sweats and once again, a tank top, but this time, there’s no sports bra in sight . . . or any bra for that matter.

  Hell, her nipples are hard. This is so not what I needed to see, not when I’m having these conflicting and confusing feelings.

  I swallow hard and keep my eyes adjusted to focus on her face. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate me staring at her breasts at eleven at night.

  She rubs her face with her palm and says, “What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is your glove okay?”

  Shit, this was a poorly thought-out idea. I don’t really know why I’m here, other than I wanted to see her, talk to her, give her something small to show her how much I appreciate her.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say, feeling stupid now that I’m standing here. I pull out a packet of caramel M&M’s from my pocket then realize this is something I could have done at another time, but for the life of me, I couldn’t wait. “Here.”

  She reaches out and takes the package from me, confusion written all over her brow. “Thank you.” She clutches the package, still confused. Hell, I am too. “This is why you came here, to give me M&M’s?”

  Yup, looking like a real fucking douche right about now. Is this me trying to flirt with a girl? If so, I am thoroughly embarrassed with my game, or lack thereof.

  “Uh . . .” I pull on the back of my neck. “Yeah, and to say thank you.”

  “You’ve said thank you many times.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I really want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. I had a great weekend out on the field and you’re to thank for that.”

  She toes the ground, clearly uncomfortable when receiving compliments. “You put in the work, I just assisted.”

  “Either way, I’m grateful.”

  She shifts and then holds up the package of M&M’s. “Want to share them?”

  “Right now?”

  She nods shyly and then goes to a bench in front of the dorm and takes a seat. Spend a little more time with Milly outside of the ballpark? Yeah, I’ll take the opportunity, because something tells me she doesn’t do this very often.

  I take a seat next to her, but straddle the bench so I’m facing her. She pulls up her right foot and hugs her leg to her chest right before opening the package of M&M’s and setting it between us.

  I pop a candy in my mouth and ask, “How did your team do this weekend?”

  “Great. They won.” She picks up a piece of candy as well and I watch as she truly appreciates the flavor combination of the hard candy shell and chocolate and caramel inside.

  “That’s awesome. Good job, Coach.”

  She smiles and then continues. “There’s this kid on the team, his name is Dennis. He’s smaller than all the other boys, pretty clumsy, always loses his helmet, is the kid whose clothes are entirely too big, and he gets distracted by butterflies, but oh my God, he loves the sport so much. He always shows up to practice with the biggest smile on his face and a willingness to work hard. He’s the kid you tell to run faster and instead of moving his legs quicker, his arms pump harder.”

  I laugh out loud, picturing the little guy in my head. “He sounds like my kind of player.”

  “He’s adorable, but he’s struggled on the field with pretty much every aspect of the game. It hurts my heart, watching him try to keep up, but he gives it his all. I’ve given him some extra attention with the bat and it finally paid off this weekend.”

  “Did he get his first hit?” I ask, feeling excited for Dennis, even though I don’t know him.

  Milly nods and leans her head to the side so it’s resting against her knee, her expression wistful as she stares back at me.

  Fuck, she really is beautiful. “He did. It was a soft blooper over the first baseman’s head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such pure joy on a little boy’s face. When he got back to the dugout, he gave me the biggest hug. I might have teared up.”

  “Damn, Milly. That’s getting me emotional. Look at you helping ballplayers all over the place.”

  “I know your success is vital, especially right now being in the middle of the season and the draft right around the corner, but deep down I always knew you’d find your swing again. You just needed slight reprograming. But Dennis”—she shakes her head—“I wasn’t sure if the guy was ever going to get a hit despite how hard he tried. I mean, when he finally made contact with the ball, his face was so shocked he almost forgot to run to first base. It was probably one of my best coaching moments ever.”

  “That’s amazing, Milly. If I were you, I’d be really proud. You made an impact on Dennis. And maybe he won’t be playing in the big leagues one day, but there’s one thing you taught him. If you work hard, you will make things happen.”

  “It’s what my dad always taught me.” She chews on another M&M. “I remember when I was twelve and my room was full of baseball tutorial books and scoresheets. My dad asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told him I wanted to coach. He told me it would be hard, to break the mold, that I would run across people who would believe a woman had no business being in men’s sports, but to continue to persist and follow my dream. I forget about that sometimes, the persistence it takes to accomplish what I want, but Dennis reminded me of that this weekend. I didn’t just help him; he helped me too.”

  It’s hard not to stare at this woman in complete awe right now. I’ve never met anyone like her, so grounded, so down to earth. Every girl I’ve met in college, with the exception of some of my guys’ girls, have seemed so one-dimensional with little substance. Milly is the furthest thing from that. She has layers with a tough exterior, almost like the M&M’s we’re eating. Hard on the outside, soft and sweet on the inside.

  I want to reach out and touch her, put my arm around her, tell her how amazing she is, but I also don’t want to freak her the fuck out. She’s already a little weirded out by my late-night visit, and if I want Milly, which I think I do, I’ll have to take things slow with her. She just snuck up on me. Weeks ago, I didn’t know she existed, and yet now, after such a short time of knowing her, I can’t imagine my life without her. She brings light . . . genuine honesty. My mind has only been focused on baseball, with good reason, but now I want both baseball and this girl. I want Milly. I want this girl to be mine. But making a move on her now wouldn’t be wise.

  “Is that what you want to do after college? Coach?”

  “Yes. My brothers own a training facility, and they’re expanding. I’m putting together a proposal to add individual coaching facilities as well. I’ve been working on it during my free time, and I’m hoping to present it to them after graduation. Kind of want to help turn their business into a baseball mecca. They have the foundation, and I want to expand it.”

  “Do you think they’ll be open to it?”

  “Yes, but they’re also smart businessmen, so they won’t go for it just because I’m their sister. That’s why I’m working really hard on the proposal and making sure I have everything researched and planned so when they question my business plan, I’ll have answers for everything.”

  “That’s really smart. I have no idea what you have entailed, but what I do know is that they would be stupid to not have you on board. You’re really smart, Milly.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’m pretty sure I could do no wrong in your eyes at this point.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, probably, but I also believe you are smart. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

  She glances away and says, “Thank you,” very softly as her chin rests on the top of her knee. Still staring out at the parking lot, she asks, “Why did you choose to go to college instead of be drafted right out of high school?”

  “Because of my dad. Making it in the big leagues is such a longshot and seeing the way my dad struggled to provide for me, I wanted to make sure in case I didn’t make it, I’d have something to fall back on.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Architecture.”

  “Really?” She perks up, surprised.

  “Yeah. It’s weird. I like to draw buildings. It’s what I do on our road trips when we’re not watching Reese Witherspoon, or studying.”

  She chuckles. “I still can’t believe you guys were watching chick flicks on the bus.”

  “We’re a whole bunch of softies, and don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”

  “I could see it.” She yawns and covers her mouth quickly, cluing me in that I should let her get back to bed.

  “It’s late, and I still have to drive back to the loft.” I stand and pick up the package of M&M’s, handing it to her once she’s on her feet as well. “Thank you for sharing.”

  “I wasn’t about to eat them in front of you.” She takes the package and I keep my eyes glued to hers, not once glancing at her chest. I should win a goddamn medal. “Thank you again.” She takes a step back, and there goes my small window of getting a hug.

  It would be nice to have my arms around her again, as she fits so perfectly against my chest. It was something I noticed when I hugged her before we left. Yeah, she might have been upset and crying, and I might have taken small advantage of it by pulling her into my arms, but I would do it all over again to feel her warmth against mine one more time.

  “Yeah, sure.” I scratch the back of my head and then point at her. “You’re amazing, Coach. Thank you again.”