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player’s career.
    Rodriguez got in stretch position. Heath quickly signaled for him to throw a forkball. It was hard on the arm, but the kid could handle it.
    A smile kicked up the corners of Rodriguez’s mouth a split second before the ball left his hand. The bat connected with the baseball with a resounding crack, but instead of going out into the field, it went up.
    And up.
    Shoving up his facemask, he began running backwards while keeping an eye on that small, white circle in the Carolina blue sky as it descended.
    “Come to Daddy,” he muttered, sliding to the right. The ball fell straight into his mitt with a plop.
    “Out,” the ump cried.
    Heath fisted his hand, jerking his arm back in victory. “Hell, yeah.”
    Game over.
    The crowd roared their approval. The Buccaneers had won and the cancer ward at County Med would receive all the monies collected from tickets sales, as well as player donations.
    All in all, it was a good day.
    “Hey, Ambrose,” Rodriguez said, jogging to him. “You’re coming out tonight, right?”
    The rest of the team joined them, pounding on each other’s backs and shouting as they celebrated.
    He grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
    *
    That night, Heath met his teammates at their usual watering hole in Greenville. The dance floor was crowded with out-of-town players, sorority girls, hangers-on, and WAGS.
    Plenty of opportunities to hook up if he wanted—only he wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted to do tonight. It hadn’t been what he wanted to do in a long time.
    Taking a pull of his beer, he attempted to listen to a guy from the other team talk, but the thumping bass made it damn near impossible. A cute blonde from across the way with all the right assets caught his eye.
    She smiled.
    He winked.
    Wait. I thought you wanted to be alone tonight?
    Was I supposed to ignore her?
    It’s your body, you can do whatever.
    Good talk.
    The woman’s smile turned positively seductive as she sashayed over to him, leaning in close. “Hi. I’m Lindsay.”
    “Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Heath.”
    Squeezing his hand, she said, “I know. I follow all your games. I’m a huge fan. Been trying to get Walden to introduce us, but he’s such a forgetful thing.”
    Walden was a manwhore who took advantage of every woman over eighteen that offered to shine his balls.
    “The two of you seeing each other?” Personally, he didn’t go out with women other players dated. Not even if it was a casual thing. It wasn’t because he thought there was something wrong with those women. Based on his experience, that sort of thing usually caused bad blood and affected the game.
    Lindsay placed a hand on his arm. “Not anymore. We’ve moved on. His goals have changed, so we’re not exactly what I call compatible anymore.”
    Did your baseball bunny hop on over to a guy with a bigger basket?
    Heath internally winced as Haven’s words infiltrated his head. Was he the one with the bigger basket? He knew Walden’s sign-on bonus was less than two years ago, but he wasn’t aware that it was public knowledge yet.
    “That’s a shame. I’m sure he would have enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” Heath said, trying to convey he wasn’t interested. He wanted to be blunt with her, but as a public figure, his bluntness could be misconstrued as being an unfeeling asshole.
    He never had to worry about Haven misconstruing anything he said. He could be blunt as a sledgehammer, and she’d find a way to twist his words to her advantage.
    Wait. Why was she popping up in his thoughts again? Usually, Haven was the furthest thing from his mind. Then again, he’d just seen her two weeks earlier. But now that it was officially off-season, he planned to board a plane for a tropical island so he could work on his surfing skills. His brain wouldn’t have time to think of Haven’s sharp tongue and skewering words.
    Or the way she’d been so sweet to his mother.
    He internally groaned. His