Tucking the phone into my pocket, I look up and smile as Gillian does the same. Walking over to her, she stands up straight and taps the clipboard.
“I put together an easy, but effective routine for you to do at home that’s really going to help strengthen your shoulder.”
Dropping my bag, I move to her side and press myself close. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” Leaning over her shoulder, I can smell the lavender and coco butter in her hair. She even smells incredible.
Gillian clears her throat, glancing up at me quickly, then down at her notes. She uses her pen to point out each exercise, giving me the instructions and making sure I understand how important this is.
“You have to be dedicated, Ryon, you can’t skip a day or you won’t get better. The beauty of this routine is that it’s clear and doesn’t take too much time, so there shouldn’t be any excuses why you’d miss a day.”
“Don’t worry, I got it.” She passes me the paper and I look it over myself. “Hey,” I say, “maybe you should give me your number in case I need extra help.”
Gil takes a step to the side and tilts her head. She smiles softly, diverting her eyes as she bites her lip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Dipping my head, I grab her eyes with mine. “What are you afraid of?”
Gillian grins, pulling her clipboard against her chest. “Getting fired,” she says easily, but there’s something to her tone. Flirtatious. I can hear it. I can see it. And I can definitely feel it.
“So if you can’t give me your number, then let’s do this. . .” Reaching forward, I watch her suck in a quick breath as my hand comes close to her chest, snagging the pen from her fingers. Scribbling on the edge of the paper she gave me, I rip off the corner and hand it to her. “Here’s my number. Now you have nothing to worry about. Call me and make sure I’m following your plan.”
She hesitantly takes the paper and tucks it under the stack of papers on her clipboard. “I’m not going to call you. I trust you to do what’s right for you. And if you have any questions, you can ask me Monday at your next appointment.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I pick up my bag and sling it over my back. “Or you can text me later if you get bored.” Winking, I turn and walk away.
Gillian stands there, her mouth hanging partially open with a light smile on her lips. I give her one last look and a smile over my shoulder as I turn and head out the door.
I love the look on her face. It’s subtle, but so fucking strong I have no trouble seeing the shiver running through her body. There’s a sense of satisfaction that swells in my gut, making me happy.
Fuck, I love that.
Reaching my car, I toss my bag in the back and drop into the front seat. Taking the phone from my pocket, I call Eddie back.
He picks up immediately. “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, eager to know what’s got him so stressed.
“Man, I’ve got some bad news, and I’m not sure how to break it to you.”
“Just spit it out.”
Eddie lets out a heavy breath into the receiver. There’s a long pause, and my patience is running thin.
“Dude, just tell me. Rip off the band-aid. Stop dragging it out.”
“All right, so since you’re a free agent right now, and since no team has shown interest because you’re still healing from surgery, you run the risk of having to leave the country and go back to Canada. Your work visa expires in a couple of weeks, and no one I’ve talked to is willing to take a chance on an injured pitcher at this stage in your recovery.”
“Fuck, man, why not? I’m a great pitcher. I hold three records and got MVP two years in a row. So what if I’m just coming off an injury?”
“You know why, Ryon. There are risks. Your shoulder might not heal right, and you run serious risk of re-injuring it at the start of the season. You’re a wild card to these people, and wild cards can mean losing money, not making it.”
“Damn it, Eddie. I don’t want to go back to the minor leagues. I’ve already proven myself, they should know that.”
“I’m trying, I really am. I’m not giving up on you. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, is all. If I can’t find someone to sign you, then you’ll have to head home. Unless you find yourself a bride real quick.” He laughs awkwardly, but I don’t find it funny.
“Married? You’re not fucking serious?”
“Calm down, it was just a dumb idea. I figured I’d throw it out there, just in case. That’s all.”
“I don’t have time for this shit, Eddie. Just get me signed to a team.”
He starts to reply, but I hang up the phone. I’m not giving him any options. He needs to get me signed. He needs to get this shit done. I don’t want to give up my career, I’m not ready. Shit, I only feel like I’m just starting.
But what choice will I have if no one signs me?
Think, Ryon, think.
There has to be something else I can do to stay here. Going back to Canada was never in my plan. I’ve got a life here. I’ve lived in the United States for almost four years now, this is my home. And if I lose my visa, the process for getting it again makes me even less appealing for another American team to sign me.
And then it hits me, Eddie might be on to something.
Hopefully it works.
I spend the rest of the weekend doing the exercises that Gil put together for me, and repeatedly checking my phone. She doesn’t call or text.
Waking up Monday morning, I’m anxious to get to the clinic. I want to see her. The desire is so strong, causing me to tap at my steering wheel at red lights, and honk at the car in front of me that takes forever to make a right turn.
I don’t know what’s going on with me. I’ve never been so antsy to see a girl, let alone a girl I hardly know and just met.
I’m so anxious to see Gil again, I arrive to the clinic twenty minutes early. Sitting in the lobby, I look absentmindedly at my phone, but mostly I watch out the large plate glass windows that look out into the parking lot. I perk up every time a car pulls in, and I’m disappointed whenever someone who isn’t Gil steps out of the car. Finally. I see her, and like an idiot I stand up and walk to the door. realizing how over-eager I must looks, I walk away to a corner of the lobby and do my best to look nonchalant, leaning against the wall.
I watch her walk into the lobby, her smile bright and cheerful. She looks down at her watch and then up, catching my eye.
“Hey there. Aren’t you a bit early? I usually leave myself sometime in the morning before I see my first appointment,” she asks, checking her watch again.
“Just got here,” I lie. “I guess I got lucky this morning with the green lights.”
“How’s that shoulder?” she asks.
“Tight.” Rolling my shoulder forward, I grab it with my hand. “Those exercises really do a number on it.”
“I’m glad to hear you’re following my instructions, and that’s the point.” Gil giggles as she nods her head for me to follow her. “You can’t get better by doing nothing.”
We head toward the sauna and massage rooms, and she stops in the hall. “Why don’t you start with the sauna—”