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Without looking up from her phone she replied, “You left your PT in Michigan, remember?”

“There are therapists here,” said Quinn, stubbornly.

He was partially regretting his moment of weakness the previous night when he’d responded to Rae’s text.

It was late, he was in bed by himself, thinking about how much he missed pressing up against her shape at night, and curling his body around hers.

He’d been annoyed when his phone hadn’t rung at 4:00, and again when he hadn’t received the usual goodnight text at 7:30.

He was worried she was done trying to contact him after his silent treatment.

When she’d refused to talk to him all summer after their senior year, he still called, texted, and showed up at her house regularly.

He hadn’t given up on her, and he panicked a little, both hurt and a bit angry, when he thought she’d already given up on him after a few days.

The thought that maybe she had decided to go back to Emerson after all had him grinding his teeth, brooding, and being unnecessarily short with Zoey before she’d left for the night.

“But only one who knows where you’re at with your progress,” Zoey said, still looking at her phone.

“Yeah well, some things just don’t work out how we want them to,” Quinn sighed.

“You’re being stupid,” Zoey said bluntly.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes. You finally get the woman you’ve wanted your entire life and you come back here without her?” Zoey replied. “You ignore her calls and walk around brooding all day. Just answer your damn phone and make it right. ”

Quinn let out a groan of frustration. “You were there, Zoey. So was she- and her half-naked ex-fiancé.”

“You know just as well as I do that nothing happened between them,” Zoey said, with an exasperated eye roll. “She got upset when she saw us in what appeared to be a compromising position- and quite frankly, Quinn Casey , with your reputation, I really don’t blame her.”

“You don’t?” He glared.

“Speaking as the person who rushes in with fake emergencies so your one-night stands don’t stay the night? No, no I don’t.”

Quinn looked at her through narrowed eyes as he contemplated his response. He watched as her phone screen lit up, she read something, then giggled and bit her lip at whatever message she’d just received. “Who are you texting?”

Zoey looked up at him for a beat, quickly wiping her smile off her face. “Just making more appointments,” she responded quickly. Too quickly.

“You giggled,” Quinn held his arm at a forty-five degree angle, dumbbell in hand. Slowly lowering it, he took a couple steps toward her and craned his neck to try seeing her phone screen.

“I did not,” Zoey replied defensively. “I don’t giggle.”

Quinn eyed her suspiciously. “Not usually, but you just did. And you bit your lip. You’re flirting with someone.”

Zoey stared back at him, mouth open. “I have had a lot of time to myself over the last month, not having to follow you around and clean up your messes. I’m a young woman, and I am single, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised that I could flirt with someone.”

“What’s his name?” Quinn asked, a grin curling up his lips. “We spent all that time talking about me and my now-failed relationship. Why didn’t you say you were seeing anyone?”

She broke eye contact with him briefly before saying, “You didn’t ask.”

“Wow, you’re right. We only ever talk about me.” Quinn sat down in the chair next to the sofa where she was curled up. “I’m sorry, I feel so selfish now. Tell me about him...what’s he like? Where’d you meet? Was he upset that I stole you away to a different state?”

“It’s...really new. There’s not much to tell. It’s...It may not even be anything. We just met. I just...It’s probably nothing anyway,” Zoey stuttered and stumbled over her words.

“You just met? But you said you had a whole month while you weren’t…” Quinn trailed off, peering curiously at her. His eyes widened and he grinned. “No...wait…Let me see your phone.”

“No!” Zoey pulled her phone close to her chest. “It’s private.”

“Are you sexting?”

“No! Oh my gosh, Quinn,” Zoey squealed. “I’m allowed to keep things private from you.”

“You know everything about me,” Quinn reasoned.

“Yeah, because it’s literally my job.”

Quinn lunged forward and began wrestling her phone out of her hand. She tried prying his fingers off and shoved him back. Quinn cried out in pain and Zoey gasped, loosening her grip as she turned her attention to his injured elbow. “Oh, no! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Quinn snatched the phone with its gold, sparkly case out of her hand with a smirk. “Wrong arm, Mamacita.”

She stared back at him, incredulous. “Ugh, that’s just...oh, you play dirty, Quinn Casey!”

He grinned, turning around and looking down at her phone screen as it lit up with another message. Zoey tried grabbing it out of his hand again and he held it way above her head. He looked at it from that angle, holding it high in the air. “Oh, would you look at that? New message from Jett Miller!”

Zoey blushed slightly as she looked away. “Okay, but don’t tell him I said it was anything. Because it’s not. We’ve just been texting since we got back...and he’s...funny. I enjoy talking to him, okay? But that’s all it is. ”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Quinn said, and made the zip-the-lips motion across his mouth and handed her phone back to her. “Are you a virgin?”

“I’m sorry, what? No, Quinn, I’m twenty-four years old, I’m not a virgin!” Zoey snapped.

“You’re only twenty-four? Shit, I thought you just looked young.”

Looking at him with a look of mild offense, she asked, “You thought I was older, but still a virgin?”

“No?” Quinn replied, uncertainly. “I just never hear you talk about having a love life or anything.”

“Yeah, well, as I’ve already stated, my job keeps me pretty busy,” Zoey said, sitting back on the sofa. “And I know you guys are just teasing when you call Jett a virgin. Just because we don’t hook up with a new person every night…”

Quinn chuckled at the mention of Jett the Virgin, “Well, I approve, if it matters. He’s a good guy. Probably the nicest guy I know.”

“Good to know,” Zoey nodded. “Not that it’s going to turn into anything.”

“If it helps,” Quinn began, trying to conceal a grin, “he’s practically a horse from the waist down.”

“What?” Zoey arched an eyebrow, appearing somewhat confused, and fully exasperated.

Quinn shrugged. “I always felt bad; he’s got all the equipment but absolutely no game.”

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the warning? Like I said, though, we’re just talking. And he lives across the country, so…”

“Right, of course,” said Quinn.

A new silence settled over them and her phone buzzed again. Another grin, another giggle, and Zoey looked back up at Quinn who was watching intently. “Would you stop staring at me? Go get ready! ”

Walking out onto the field for the first time in over a month was like a breath of fresh air. Quinn took his time taking in the familiar scene, breathing in the grass, the clay and sand.

His trainer was waiting for him on the field. It was rare that he was the only one out there, but his teammates were resting and gearing up for their evening game that night, which Quinn was looking forward to, even if he had to watch from the bench.

After giving his trainer a run-down of where he was at in his physical therapy, and that he’d been working on strengthening his rotator cuff and the muscles surrounding his scapula, they got to work.

They ran through cardio exercises, and with the Southern California heat, he was drenched in sweat from head to toe by the end of his workout session.

Walking back to the clubhouse locker rooms, he realized just how much he’d missed these kinds of training sessions.

His head felt clear, and his body felt awake.

Though he’d soon be feeling a lot more awake once he got in the showers.

Not that he was complaining, but it was a little frustrating that ever since Rae had made his teenage shower fantasy come true, he couldn’t take a shower without getting hard as fuck.

Being in the clubhouse showers made this a hell of a lot more difficult to manage.

Cold shower it is .

Back in the meeting room of the clubhouse, Quinn greeted his teammates as they filed in, giving them back slapping hugs, fist bumps, and awkward left-handed handshakes. Nearly all of them had asked about his arm, and just as many asked about his girlfriend.

“Did you bring your girl back with you?”

“When are we meeting the girlfriend?”

Dean Bennett, the third baseman and Quinn’s closest friend on the team said, “I still can’t believe you’re settling down, man. I give it another month.”

“Ouch! You know I expected more support from you,” Quinn replied, a hand to his chest as though wounded.

He was good at pretending. Had he been excited at the prospect of no longer having to pretend around these guys?

Sure. But if he had to pretend that he and Rae were still fine for a while longer, he would.

“How about that article with all those pictures of your girl with other guys? Was that whole thing photo-shopped? Or did you have to show half the guest list your fightin’ skills?” Rob DiMarco asked, nudging Quinn as he took a seat on the bench next to him.

“Nah, they weren’t photo-shopped,” Quinn replied. “Just guys at the wedding. Rae used to be a total tom-boy, believe it or not. She may not look like it, but she could probably run bases around you assholes all day.”

“With long legs like hers, I definitely believe it,” said Dean, wiggling his eyebrows.

Quinn glared at his friend and made his voice low and threatening, “Watch it.”

Dean chuckled, then asked, “So you really have been friends since you were kids?”

Quinn nodded. “Met when we were seven.”

Dean grinned. “Oh, I can’t fucking wait to hear stories about what you were like as a kid. I hope she’s got some embarrassing ones. Lord knows that ego could use some humbling.”