by Marta Brown
I wait until she’s taken off before breaking out into a quick jog up to the baseball equipment shed. It’s right next to the batting cages, and would be a perfect place to hide.
“Crap.” I kick the dirt when I reach the shed and find the doors standing wide open. Besides a bunch of helmets, bats, and buckets of baseballs, it’s empty. “Now what?”
I shove my hands in my pockets and glance back and forth, unsure where to look now, since I was certain she would be up here.
“Didn’t peg you as the quitting type,” Emily says, stepping out from behind the shed and startling me.
Ah. There’s my girl.
“Me? Quit?” I say as she turns and makes a run for it. “Never.”
Following the sound of her giggles, I chase her into the dense woods behind the field, but stop short when I don’t see her anywhere.
I move through the trees as quietly as possible, listening for deep breathing, or the sound of twigs breaking, but it’s completely silent except for the distant echoes of campers screaming and laughing down by the lake.
“You might as well come out,” I call out, into the quiet. “I’m going to find you, you know.”
“And what do you plan to do when you find me?” Emily asks, walking out from behind a tree and leaning up against its trunk, her voice light and tinkling.
That’s a good question. I drag in a deep breath and take her in as rays of sunlight break through the piney branches above. There are a thousand and one different things I’d like to do, but when she pulls her lip into her mouth and bites, my answer’s clear.
I take three short strides to close the distance between us, cup her face in my hands and whisper against her lips, “This.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” she whispers back before kissing me the way all of our stolen kisses have been, with a sense of urgency.
A bird taking flight above breaks us from our furor. Pressing my forehead against hers with my eyes still closed, I suck in a few ragged breaths as I rest one hand against the trunk of the tree above her head while the other one drifts from her face, down her arm, and to her lower hip.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She slinks out of my grip and darts around the tree, causing me to take a header into the rough bark.
My eyes snap open and I rub my forehead. “What the?”
She peeks her head around the side of the tree, her eyes wide with concern. “I’m so sorry,” she pleads, stepping out from behind the thick trunk, her hand hovering over her mouth. “I thought you were trying to steal my flag. Are you okay?”
“I will be,” I say softly, drawing her closer, “if you’ll kiss it and make it better.”
She stops short and arches her eyebrow as I try and stop my face from revealing I’m totally full of it. Crossing her arms, she looks me over until I can’t help breaking into a devious smile.
“Well, it was worth a shot.” I shrug. “I guess I’ll just have to get your flag the old fashion way.”
“I knew it!” Emily squeals before taking off out of the trees, and onto the field. Running across the wide swath of green grass in the outfield, she heads for the baseball diamond.
Close behind her, I slow my stride and enjoy the chase as her giggles fill the empty field.
“Emily Evers, with an easy double straight down the middle of the field is rounding first,” I say in my best announcer’s voice. “And now second,” I call out, closing the distance between us and adding some pressure. “Is she gonna go for it? Yes, yes she is folks—she’s stealing third,” I shout between cupped hands before pretending to be a roaring crowd cheering her on.
Glancing over her shoulder at me and laughing, she jumps onto the third base bag with her hands raised in the air triumphantly, before crying out in pain and crumpling to the ground clutching her ankle.
For a split second I wonder if she’s faking an injury to capture my flag, until I see her eyes well up with tears.
“Emily.” I rush to her side and kneel down, taking her quickly swelling ankle into my hands and jumping right into doctor mode. “I need you to tell me if it hurts when I press, okay?” She nods as her pooled tears spill over.
Probing first the inside of her ankle and getting no response, I move to the outside and earn a yelp when I press just underneath her ankle bone. As gently as possible, I run my thumb along her calcaneofibular ligament, giving me flashbacks of my final exam—which seems like forever ago now—and feel no obvious tears.
“Is it…is it broken?”
“It looks like it’s just a sprain, but I still want Doc to take a look and make sure I didn’t miss anything.” I sweep my thumb across her cheek, my heart breaking that she’s in pain. “Until then—I can kiss it and make it better if you want?”
“Cute,” she says, giggling between sniffles as I pucker my lips, lean down, and kiss her ankle.
Emily’s laugh lifts a weight off my shoulders. “You know, seeing you cry might just be the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” Her brow shoots up, skeptically. “Even worse than seeing me drowned?”
Chapter 21
Emily
“Okay, fine. Second worst then,” Tyler says, admitting seeing me drowned was worse than seeing me cry. Although, by the concern on his face, it must actually be a close second.
Wiping away my tears, I try to focus on Tyler and not the throbbing pain in my ankle. “Hey, it wasn’t all that bad. I’m sure you looooved hearing me admit how hot I think you are in my foggy state of concussion.”
Tyler sits on the ground across from me and laughs. “Not just hot—but Hottie Mchottieface levels of hot.”
I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks warm. “You’re never going to get tired of reminding me of that, are you?”
“Nope.” He smiles tucking his knees into his chest and lifting my foot to rest on top.
I gesture to my foot with a nod of my chin. “You’re really good at that, you know.”
“At elevating your foot? Years of practice lifting my own,” he jokes.
I reach out and shove his shoulder, careful not to jostle my foot. “You know what I mean—doctor stuff.”
Tyler’s eyes move from my foot to the field, and back again as a heaviness seems to settle in his shoulders.
“Did I say something wrong? That’s why you’re here, right? Job shadowing because you want to be a doctor someday?”
Tyler brushes his thumb gently, just above my swelling ankle. “No, you’re right. It’s just…I’m sort of on the fence about my future plans is all,” Tyler says, his voice wavering as he glances back out at the field, like maybe it holds the answers.
“What? Afraid med school is gonna kick your ass, huh, Slugger?” I lean back on my elbows and shoot him a teasing smirk.
“More like…afraid I’ll make the wrong decision and let my family down.”
I scrunch up my nose at the idea of Tyler making a wrong decision and letting anyone down. “Wrong decision? Like which specialty you want to go into or something?”
Tyler looks at my blueish-purple ankle, and then down at the dirt covered base between us. He raps his knuckles against the hard surface in an anxious beat, causing the sound to echo into the wide open field. “No, more like, whether to be a doctor at all…or go pro.”
I clamp my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide. He’s one of the players dad was talking about—the ones getting called up to the minors next season. I let my hand fall into my lap, replacing my shocked expression with a huge smile. “Tyler! What decision? You’re getting called up! What else is there to think about?”
“I know, right?” Tyler says, dragging his hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders ratcheting up. “It’s just not that simple I guess.”
“But why not?”
“Well…” Tyler starts, readjusting so he’s sitting cross-legged before carefully resting my foot on his knee again and then continuing. “When I was in seventh grade, my older brother Tommy was a senior at the U, your dad was act
ually his coach, too. Anyway, he got drafted into the minors that year, and man, it was the coolest. Mom and Dad were so proud, and the local newspaper even did a big story on him.” Tyler smiles at the memory, and I’m relieved to see it back on his face, even if only momentarily.
“So, you’re worried he’ll be pissed you’re getting drafted earlier than he did, or something?”
“I wish.” Tyler presses his lips into a tight line. “He was always the wild one in the family, you know? Never one to follow the rules or consider the consequences—he was all about having fun and letting loose.”
Was?
My heart picks up speed as the puzzle pieces fall into place, suddenly feeling guilty for teasing Tyler for being such a stickler for rules.
“Anyway,” Tyler clears his throat when it cracks, “the first night he was away at training camp, he and a bunch of the new guys went out joy riding, all pumped up to have made it into the league, and they ended up getting into a pretty big wreck.
“I can still remember the sound of my mom’s cries as we rushed to the hospital after finding out.” Tyler swipes the back of his hand quickly across his cheek. “It was horrible.”
“Is…is he…” I trail off, taking Tyler’s hand in mine, unsure how to ask, or if I even should.
“No.” Tyler shakes his head and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “He’s okay. Now. But it was pretty bad when it happened. It’s actually the reason I gave up my dreams of being a professional baseball player and decided I wanted to become a doctor. After watching Tommy spend nearly three months in the hospital, having to have multiple surgeries, and then years of physical therapy just to be able to walk again, I knew that’s what I wanted to do when I grew up—without those doctors he never would have made it.”
“Wow, I don’t even know what to say.” I stroke his forearm. “That would be hard to go through at any age—but especially being so young.”
“It was. But the worst part actually ended up coming later, when the stress of caring for Tommy and the mounting hospital bills were just too much for my parents, and their marriage ended up falling apart.”
I flinch, thinking about my own parent’s marriage, and know exactly how Tyler must have felt to watch that happen.
“I guess that’s when I decided to do everything in my power to stay out of trouble—hoping to keep my family together, you know?”
I do. More than he knows.
“So, that’s why I’m such a ‘stickler for the rules,’” he says, dropping my hand to make air quotes, before letting out a short tight laugh.
I wince hearing the teasing words I’ve used to describe him, knowing now, why staying out of trouble means so much to him. “I get it, and I definitely see why being a doctor is so important to you, but I don’t know why you think you would let your family down either way?”
Tyler shrugs. “I think my parents would have preferred I’d given up the sport all together. They worried I’d turn out just like Tommy—always partying and stuff—but in the end they let me keep playing because of how much I love it. I guess now I’m afraid if I go pro, all it’s going to do is remind them of everything we lost.” Tyler lets out a deep breath, taking my hand back in his. “And then there’s Tommy—he would do anything in the world to have this chance again, so I kind of feel like giving up this opportunity would somehow let him down, too, you know?”
I pull Tyler’s hand to my lips and kiss it as a rush of emotions wash over me. Even though I’m unable to help him decide, I understand how it feels to make decisions for the sake of family, and suddenly I see my situation in a whole new light.
“You know what?” I say, brushing my hand across the stubble on his tense jaw, and then watching it relax under my touch. “I think whatever you choose to do, as long as you’re happy, the people who love you will be happy too.”
Tyler’s light green eyes drink me in as a moment of quiet passes between us before he clears his throat and puts back on the easy smile I’m used to seeing. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry for being such a downer—I just get stressed out thinking about it sometimes.” Tyler sets my foot on the ground and pops up, dusting off the red dirt from his shorts before offering me his hand. “But I have all summer to worry about that, while right now, I have a much more pressing issue to take care of.”
“And that is?” I ask, as he helps me to my feet, or foot, since I’m not able to put much weight on my ankle.
“To get you to the nurse’s office to see Doc.” He smiles, the weight, for now, off his shoulders.
“Only on one condition,” I offer, wanting him to know I’m here for him if he needs me. “If you ever feel like talking about it—or stressing about it—you’ll let me know if there is anything I can do to help?” I tilt my head up and look at him through my lashes. “Promise?”
“I promise.” Tyler nods, his effortless smile assuring me he will. “But…there is actually something you can do right now that would help.” His face lights up with mischievousness and I have a feeling I know exactly what he wants—and I’m happy to do it.
“Let me guess.” I toss my arms around his broad shoulders and breathe in his unique glove oil, leather, and peppermint scent. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
Nodding, he wraps me up in his arms and I press my smiling lips to his until the sound of laughter breaks us apart and sends a panic rushing through me.
Tyler brushes a stray hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “It’s okay. It sounds like they’re down by the cabins.” His voice is calm and reassuring and takes away my worry.
“I better go anyway, before my ankle looks less like a baseball and more like a softball.” I press up on my toes and give him a quick peck before turning around and limping off.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Tyler grabs my elbow, effectively stopping me from my retreat back to camp. He moves in front of me and crouches down like he wants me to hop on his back.
“But—”
“No buts,” Tyler says, peering at me from over his shoulder. “You’re hurt. So I can either give you a piggy back ride back to camp—or I can run down and get Doc and the golf cart and come back for you. Your choice.”
I shake my head at the charming smile he gives me, clearly sure he’s won this argument. And he has. The last thing I want is a Doc chauffeured ride on a golf cart to the nurse’s office in front of the whole camp. I blow out a breath.
“Fine,” I say, gripping his shoulders as he hoists me onto his back. “You know it’s just a sprain. Not like I haven’t had plenty of them in my life from sliding into home,” I grumble, even though I’m more than happy to spend a few more minutes close to him, and I think he knows it.
“Technically, you were stealing third—and I’m pretty sure there was less sliding and more tripping going on, but...” he trails off, laughing under his breath.
Oh, yeah?
“Looks like that’s not the only thing I’m stealing,” I say, planting a kiss on his cheek before reaching down and snatching the bright red flag from off his belt.
He twists his head to look at me over his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. “That’s not the only thing you’ve stolen.”
I think I know exactly what he means—and he might just be a bigger thief than me.
…
With my ankle thoroughly evaluated by Doc, and confirmed to be nothing but a minor sprain, Tyler goes to work on wrapping me up.
“I want you to practice the RICE method for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” he instructs as he wraps the nude colored ace bandage snugly around my ankle and secures it with two small silver clips. “That means, rest, ice, compress and elevate.” He ticks off on his fingers. “You got it?”
Does he really think I don’t know what the RICE method is? I hold back a laugh, letting him tell me anyway, because he’s so sexy when he’s doctoring.
“Yes, Doctor,” I purr, earning a look from Tyler that makes me think we’d both like to play doctor fo
r just a little bit longer.
I scoot to the end of the examination table, my hurt foot propped on Tyler’s knee, as he sits on a small black stool with his hand resting on the top of my bandage, just below my calf.
“Em.” His voice is low and cautious, and makes my stomach coil.
“Can you show me exactly how high I need to keep it elevated, Doctor?” I ask, feigning ignorance before moving my foot from his knee to the crook in his elbow. “How’s this?”
Tyler runs his hand up the back of my calf to just under my knee, his fingers brushing against the soft skin, and sending a shiver up my spine.
“Emily—”
“Or,” achingly slow I drag my foot up the side of his bicep, and over his broad shoulder, pulling him closer in the process, until the back of my knee is draped over his collarbone, “more like this?”
That must be just what the doctor ordered because he shoots off his stool, sending it rolling back and colliding with the closed door, and crashes his lips to mine.
Running his hand up the length of my leg, still wrapped around his shoulder, our bodies press hard against one another until the sound of Doc’s voice echoing down the hall yanks us apart, leaving us both panting.
Tyler moves away from me lightning quick to the small fridge in the corner of the room. He pulls out a tub of frozen cold compresses and fumbles through them as I drop my leg carelessly—frustrated in more ways than one—and accidently smash it against the base of the examination table, replacing the tingles running up my spine from just moments ago with searing pain.
I cry out as Doc enters the office, a pair of crutches in hand.
“You just can’t seem to keep yourself out of my office can you, Miss Evers? Luckily I have Mr. Ford here to help handle the triage.” Doctor Newton hands me the crutches before checking the quality of Tyler’s wrap job. “Impeccable work.” He nods at Tyler, taking the icy blue compress and placing it gently against my ankle. “Did Tyler go over the RICE method with you? It’s imperative to keep your foot elevated for the next day or so, all right?”