But am I brave enough to take the leap I’d have to take if this has any chance of lasting past the off-season?

And I don’t mean the part where I tell Cooper I’ve been sleeping with Max.

I mean the part where I’d be signing up to be a full-time baseball girlfriend. Moving away from Shipwreck myself. Finding a new mission when it’s not participating in a business that’s been in my family since before I was born, in a town where I know everyone, what they all need, and where I fit.

I’ve been happy with my life here in Shipwreck for almost eight years.

And I’ve always said I’d take a leap when life handed me an opportunity I couldn’t walk away from.

But can I?

Am I ready?

Is this what I really want?

More importantly—is it what Max would want?

I don’t know.

But I know the only way to find out is to ask him.

And I will.

Soon.

But if there’s any chance he’ll say we’re sticking to the plan—that we’re over when he leaves for spring training—then next week or the week after is soon enough.

31

Max

“Take it you haven’t told Cooper yet,” Luca says four days later after he and Henri have driven out to Shipwreck to work out with us.

Should’ve been the other way around this off-season. Cooper, Robinson, Trevor, and I should’ve been heading into the city to work out with Luca and Brooks and Emilio and Francisco. Makes more sense.

But Shipwreck—it draws you in.

Makes you not want to leave.

Even when you’re staying in a place without all the same luxuries you’re used to in the city.

I don’t bother glaring at him, and not only because I’m concentrating on the weight of the bar I’m benching. “Coach Addie has him in a snit.”

“Talk to Tillie Jean yet?”

“Do you want me to throw this barbell at you?”

Cooper’s not working out with us today. Said he had an appointment in the city. Trevor didn’t come back after Emilio’s wedding, given the state of his shoulder and lack of contract. Darren’s been checking in on him.

Dude’s in rough shape, but he’ll pull through.

I think.

I hope.

“You giving Max shit?” Robinson asks Luca.

“Yep.”

“Is that allowed?”

“I can take him.”

Robinson grins and plugs his earbuds back into his ears again, returning to his squats.

I shelve the bar, sit up, and look Luca straight in the eye. “Things are good. I don’t want to talk to Tillie Jean about it. I don’t want to tell Cooper. I want to let things keep being good.”

“We’re leaving for Florida in just over a week. There is no keep being what it is. Everything’s changing. Hell, even me and Henri have had a couple arguments over spring training, and we both know this is the real deal. But we talk about it.”

I change the subject and tell him to do his own reps.

Not because he’s wrong.

More because the anxiety is creeping in again every time I think about leaving for Florida.

I want to go to Florida. I love spring training. Getting back in my groove. Being in the sunshine. Playing ball.

But I’ve never felt so much like I’m leaving part of myself behind before.

We hit the Korean barbecue joint for lunch, then grill steaks for dinner up at Cooper’s place when he gets back from seeing his accountant in the city.

Dude needs to get a virtual one like most of the rest of us have.

He also needs to not talk so much.

I’m about ready to itch out of my own skin by the time it feels safe to say I’m calling it a night and head down off his little mountain so I can sneak in his sister’s back door for nooky.

She was pulling a double shift today, which means she’s probably tired.

But so long as she hasn’t left the no goats allowed sign on her back door, I’ve been told I can come in and jam the door shut.

Any other town on earth, I’d tell her to upgrade her locks. Not like there aren’t locks that would keep goats out.

And I can’t believe that’s a sentence I actually just thought.

There’s no sign telling me to get lost, and the light’s on in her bathroom, so I sneak in the back door under cover of night. “Tillie Jean?” I call softly. The light’s on over her stove, but nothing else is, and her cabinets look extra bright tonight.

Like they’re reflecting the Milky Way, but a more colorful version.

“Max?”

Just the sound of her voice quells all the growing panic inside me.

She’s here.

We have tonight.

And when she peeks around the corner from the living room, her hair twisted up in a towel, her face coated in green gunk, and her robe gaping open to show off her very splendid cleavage and tease me with what else I know is under there, everything else about the day melts away.

She smiles and gestures to her face. “I swear, I thought I had at least thirty more minutes before Cooper would let you loose.”

“Henri wore him out.”

She laughs. “Come. You can wait in the bedroom while I wash this all off.”

“I can help.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m an expert washcloth wielder. Did you get any on your boobs? I can wash those off too.”

She pulls me into the house, asking about my day, catching me up on Shipwreck gossip, and she lets me set her on the counter in her bathroom, step between her spread legs, and clean her face mask off.

The window’s cracked again, letting in just enough cool air to keep me from overheating in the still-steamy bathroom. Swear she does it on purpose. “I would’ve showered with you,” I tell her as I swipe gentle strokes over her face with a washcloth, revealing soft Tillie Jean skin under all the green stuff.

“I’ll need another one soon enough.” She loops her arms around my neck and hooks her legs behind my knees while I unwind the towel on her head and grab her comb. “In fact, I’m thinking things right now that already have me feeling a little dirty.”

“How long are you planning on getting dirtier?” How is it that I’ve never combed a woman’s hair before? And how is it that I can’t imagine doing anything else right now?

“At least a couple hours. I mean, if my playmate cooperates.” She winks. “But he usually does.”

“He must have the proper motivation.”

Her fingers stroke the ends of my hair, right at my neck, while her bright blue eyes dance with happiness. “He’s my favorite,” she whispers.

I am such a goner.

I drop the comb, lower my lips to hers, and this.

This is what I’ve been waiting for all day.

She’s the calm to my storm. The joy to my fears. The belief to my doubts.

I push her robe off her shoulders, and she lets it fall, leaving her completely naked and exposed, but she doesn’t shy away.

Not Tillie Jean.

She leans deeper into the kiss, and when I lift her, she wraps her legs around me, letting me carry her into the bedroom, settling her onto the center of her bed. She whimpers when I pull back to rip off my shirt and trip out of my pants, her thighs open, her fingers stroking her pussy and driving me completely wild.