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Chapter Two

Sam

“Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth.”

Her voice is low and steady, almost hypnotic.

I’m still not sure I buy into all of this, but something about the rhythm of her words makes it hard to resist. So I do what she says.

I inhale, counting to four, hold it, then exhale just as slow.

Her voice is the only thing I focus on. It anchors me, pulling me out of my head.

I’m still tense, still skeptical, but with each breath, something starts to loosen.

“I'm going to begin now,” she said quietly. “You may feel warmth, tingling, or nothing at all. There's no right or wrong way to experience this.”

I felt her presence near my head. Her hands didn’t touch me, but I still felt them.

A subtle heat hovering just above my skin, like sunlight filtered through clouds.

She moved in silence, and I tried to stay still, to be open, whatever that meant.

I’ve done rehab, ice baths, stim, dry needling.

This was not that. This was…something else.

Little by little, the tension in my shoulders melted away and my jaw unclenched. I stopped trying to analyze what was happening and just let it be. And that’s when the sensation changed.

A weightlessness settled over me, like I was floating, untethered. My muscles twitched, a reflex to anchor myself, but her soft words of comfort made me feel safe enough to relax again.

She slowly circled the table, her hands hovering just above me. Sometimes I felt that gentle warmth, sometimes just the quiet hum of her presence.

I slipped into something close to sleep, my body so relaxed it was like I wasn’t even fully conscious.

But I could still feel her presence, and as she moved to my right shoulder there was something else.

Not pain. Not pressure. Just a slow unraveling in my chest, like something I’d been holding tight was loosening.

Instead of feeling jarred, my breath went deeper, slower.

As if my body finally realized it didn’t need to hold on anymore.

At first there was nothing but darkness. Then the familiar swirl of colors flickered behind my closed eyes. I tried to concentrate, watching the colors twist and blend, searching for some kind of pattern. Red bled into blue, then shifted to a soft yellow, before swirling back to a deep violet.

And then I saw it.

A baseball field. Empty. Fog curling over the grass like smoke. I’m on the mound, ball in hand, but the stands are silent. There’s no catcher. No batter. Just me and a heavy, aching stillness.

The ball rested against my palm like it always has and I drew it back, ready to throw.

But as I lifted my arm to go through the motion, the ball vanished.

Confused, I glanced down, and the ball was somehow in my hand again like it never left.

I gripped it tight in my fingers, certain this time it’d stay.

But as I went to throw, it slipped away again.

I found the ball over and over, and each time, it disappeared just before release, like it was never really there.

I kept trying, desperate to hold onto it, to finish the motion, to feel that snap at the end.

But all I got was the ghost of it…weightless and unfinished…

leaving my arm hanging midair and my chest tight with failure.

My chest tightened. My legs wanted to move, run, do something , but I was frozen. Not because of pain, but because I was afraid. Afraid I’ve lost it. Afraid I’d never get it back. That the version of me, the one who used to throw heat without thinking, was gone forever.

Before I could make sense of it, Hope’s voice drifted in, soft and steady, like a rope pulling me gently back to the surface.

“Take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. Wiggle your fingers and toes.”

I wasn’t ready to move, but I did what she asked. My fingers gave a small twitch. My toes curled against the blanket, grounding me. The table felt more solid beneath me, like I was easing back into my body, one breath at a time.

She placed her hands lightly on my shoulders.

“Start to bring your awareness back to the room, and when you’re ready, slowly open your eyes.”

I blinked against the dim light, feeling oddly disoriented. My body felt heavy, relaxed in a way it hadn't been since before the injury. If ever.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m not sure.”

I sat and shifted until my legs hung off the edge of the table. Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to process what had just happened.

She handed me a glass of water, and I took it with a nod. Its coolness steadied me, each sip drawing me a little more back into myself. She didn’t rush me, just stood nearby, calm and quiet. I finished the water and rested the empty glass against my thigh.

“I didn’t think I’d feel anything,” I said. “But it was like…I don’t know. Like I could feel my fastball again. Not in my arm, not physically.” I shook my head. “I know I’m not making sense.”

“You’re actually making total sense.” She took the glass from me and set it on the table before settling onto the couch. “There’s significant congestion in your elbow.”

“Congestion?”

“Energy blockage,” she said. “It’s quite dense. Like a knot in the flow.”

I wasn't sure what to make of her words. Part of me wanted to dismiss the whole experience as woo-woo bullshit, but I couldn't deny that something had happened during the session, even if I didn't understand what.

“So, what now?”

“Now you let yourself believe that rehab doesn’t only happen in a gym. And that you’re not broken, just recalibrating.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, soft and calm as ever. “I think with a few more sessions, we’ll be able to loosen up that block and get the energy flowing again.”

I’m not sure it’s that simple, but honestly, I have nothing to lose. At the very least, I feel more relaxed.

“Okay.”

“Are you available Friday, same time?” I nodded. “Great, I’ll see you then.”

I hopped off the table, suddenly eager to be out of the small, intimate room.

She must have sensed my unease, because she stood and opened the door. I followed her through the studio, toward the front door.

After slipping into my sneakers, I stood and faced her.

“Thank you for the session,” I said.

“My pleasure.” Her professional demeanor matched my formal tone. “I hope you found it beneficial.”

“It was...interesting.”

The bell over the door chimed as I stepped out, the sound following me into the crisp November air. I pulled the door shut behind me and headed toward my car, the chill settling in around me.

As I drove home, I found myself replaying the session in my mind.

The odd sensations. The moment of emotional tightness.

The way my body had relaxed so completely under her care.

And beneath it all, the unexpected awareness of her as a woman.

Her graceful movements, delicate hands that somehow radiated heat, and the subtle floral scent that surrounded her.

I shook my head to clear those last thoughts. Right now, the most important thing is getting my fastball back. I can’t get distracted by a pretty new age healer.

Hope

I stared at the spreadsheet on my laptop screen, the numbers blurring together as my mind drifted for the third time in as many minutes. The studio's quarterly finances needed my attention, but all I could think about was yesterday's Reiki session with Sam.

The way his energy responded to mine still lingered in my fingertips.

In my five years as a Reiki master, I'd never experienced anything like it.

Usually, when I hover my hands over someone's body, I sense their energy as distinct patterns, sometimes jagged and chaotic when they're stressed, or sluggish and heavy when they're depressed.

With most clients, I feel their essence as something separate from mine, like distinct musical notes that I can hear and influence but that remain fundamentally different from my own sound.

With Sam, it had been different. The moment my hands had positioned above his chest, I felt like our energies were harmonizing frequencies that recognized each other.

His chakras had been surprisingly open for someone who supposedly didn't believe in “this kind of stuff.” After wading through his protective layers, I’d felt such warmth, particularly in his heart chakra.

A quick knock sounded at my office door, and as I looked up, Ava stepped inside and closed it behind her.

“Still crunching numbers?” she asked.

I crinkled my nose.

“Yeah.”

“Need any help?”

“I'm good. Just working on the quarterly report.”

She dropped into the chair across from my desk, kicking her feet up on the corner. Nearly fifteen years of friendship has eliminated any need for formality.

“I love how you do a quarterly report just for yourself,” she said, nodding at my laptop.

I knew going in that if I wanted this studio to succeed, I had to treat it like more than just a passion project.

A lot of people skip the business side and end up burning out or going under.

Not me. I’m sticking to my budget, tracking my expenses, and checking in on the numbers like it actually matters. Because it does.

“It helps me keep on top of things.” I closed the laptop and leaned back in my chair. “I’m guessing everyone from class has cleared out.”

She nodded.

“And the door is locked so no one can sneak back in.”

“How was class?”

“Good.” she said, then smirked. “How’d your session with Sam Cherry go?”

“It went well. He's coming back on Friday.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Sam Cherry is coming back? For more Reiki? Voluntarily ?”

I chuckled at her expression.

“Why do you look so shocked?”

“Because Sam doesn't believe in any of this,” she said, gesturing around at the crystals on my windowsill and the chakra chart on my wall. “He just humors his mom and her ‘woo-woo ways,’ as he calls them.”

Ava grew up in Starlight Shores, so she’s known Sam most of her life.

They’d graduated high school together. Same small class, same tight-knit community, so it’s safe to say she knows him pretty well.

Not that what she said is a surprise to me.

It wasn’t difficult to figure out what Sam thought about Reiki.

Still, he was polite and cooperated even if he was just humoring me at first.

I shrugged, remembering the way Sam's energy had seemed to reach for mine.

“Well, Liz is the one who set up the appointment, but he agreed to come back on his own. So I’ll take it as a win.”

“Interesting,” Ava drawled, tapping her chin with her index finger. “Very interesting.”

“What?”

My tone must have been too defensive because Ava held up her hands in a “no offense” gesture.

“I know how powerful Reiki can be. I’m just surprised it took you to make Sam finally believe.

He’s been around this stuff his whole life thanks to Liz, and he’s always brushed it off.

One session with you and suddenly he’s open to it?

It’s just strange.” Her right brow raised like it does when she’s proving a point.

“Maybe it’s not the energy work that’s pulling him in.

Maybe he’s just interested in seeing the hot blonde Reiki master again. ”

My heart skipped a beat before I could stop it, but I kept my expression neutral. I was trying to figure out how to respond when Ava spoke again.

“Actually, I might be wrong about that last sentence. Not that you aren’t hot and blonde,” she clarified. “Liz said Sam came here because of a pitching issue, so maybe he really is just coming back for the Reiki.”

By the time our session ended, something had definitely shifted in him.

He didn’t jump up and leave or refuse another session.

He just sat there quietly for a moment, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into the world.

Maybe he wasn’t a full-on believer yet, but he wasn’t a total non-believer anymore.

And in my book, that’s something. But Ava doesn’t know any of that.

“I agree with what you’re saying, I’m just curious why you changed your tune from one sentence to the next.”

“He’s always been laser-focused on baseball, like obsessively.” She dropped her feet to the floor and sat back in the chair. “Even back in high school when girls were practically climbing over each other to get his attention, baseball was his main focus.”

“Were you one of those girls?”

“I plead the fifth,” she said with a smirk. “But honestly, I wasn’t as bad as the other girls. We were friends so I mostly kept my crush to myself.”

I probably shouldn’t, but I had to ask at least one question.

“Was he always so…” I searched for the right word.

“Brooding?” Ava supplied with a laugh.

”Yes,” I said. “Exactly that.”

“He was always quiet and like I said, super focused on baseball. He could have taken advantage of all the attention he got, but as far as I know, he never did.” She smiled. “And he’s never tried to hide the fact that he’s a total mama’s boy.”

Which explains the protective energy I'd felt around his heart chakra. You can’t fake something like that.

“That’s really sweet.”

I’d just finished speaking when my stomach growled, loudly.

Ava chuckled.

“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving too.”

I stood and shoved the computer into my bag, my mind already racing ahead. As we walked out the door and headed to The Starlight Tavern, so many questions popped into my head about Sam. But I don’t want to interrogate Ava. Or give her any reason to believe I’m interested in him.

But I am.

And it’s not just because of his broad shoulders, strong jawline, or his intense eyes. It’s something deeper, quieter. Like he’s carrying around a weight no one else sees, and some irrational part of me wants to help him set it down.

I made a mental note to Google Sam when I got home. I told myself it was all in the name of research for his next reiki session. The better I understood his background, the more effectively I could work with his energy.

But deep down, I knew this was more than just professional curiosity. It was the start of something I couldn’t ignore.