Chapter Six #2
Razor gave a weak nod, then walked slowly behind the plate. This side of Nancy was new, and one Razor had never been privy to in the past. The Nancy she remembered was brash, controlling, relentless. This Nancy was understanding and almost compassionate.
“Okay, let’s see if you got the hang of it,” Nancy said.
Everyone took their positions. This time, Summer’s spin was tighter, and the ball arched outward before curving back in.
“Great. Do it again.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Razor watched the transformation as Summer’s fatigue increased and her pitches became sloppy.
“Dammit, Summer. You’re not focusing.”
The earlier support from Nancy transitioned into the more brazen coach she remembered from San Diego, right down to not giving Summer time to recover. Razor pulled her helmet off and threw herself on the proverbial sword.
“Can we take a break? My knees are killing me.”
“What? Getting too old for this?” Nancy asked sarcastically.
She shrugged. “I didn’t get much stretching in beforehand.”
Reluctantly, Nancy agreed. “Five minutes,” she said, then walked away.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Razor whispered as she sidled up next to Summer.
“She’s not getting to me.”
“You’ve been going nonstop for thirty minutes. Most innings don’t even last that long.”
Summer slammed the water bottle down, rage in her eyes.
“I don’t need a babysitter, okay? I need to be a great pitcher. If Coach Inglewood needs me to pitch for an hour, I will pitch for an hour.”
Razor held up her hands in surrender, surprised by the outburst. Summer picked up her glove and gestured toward home plate.
“Go do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
* * *
Courtney dismissed the team promptly at six o’clock. Ashton watched as the players, tired from running and executing play scenarios, dragged themselves back to the locker room while she and the coaches gathered all their gear and broke down their temporary setups.
“I think it went well today,” she said.
“Yes, it did,” Courtney replied. “There are still some rough edges with Summer and Razor, but I hope their partnership will iron itself out soon.” They dropped the net and started folding it up. “Thanks for assisting me today. I know you’d have preferred to be with Razor on her first day.”
Ashton was mystified. “Why would you think that?”
Courtney smiled coyly as she dropped the folded net to the turf. “Denial isn’t your strong suit, Dr. Sharpe.”
“I’m not denying anything, except that I’m not a doctor yet.”
Courtney stood with her hands on her hips. “You seriously going to make me say it?”
“Say what?”
Courtney closed the distance between them. “You like her.”
“That’s…I…” Ashton sputtered.
“Hey,” Courtney interrupted. “It’s okay. But maybe don’t ogle her when she flexes her muscles.”
Ashton folded her arms. “I did not ogle.” Courtney raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I did, but it’s a moot point now that she’s on the team.”
Courtney laughed and rolled up the folded net. “Yeah. All I can say, then, is tread carefully.”
“Tread carefully?”
“Yeah. You’re a psychologist. You understand athletes better than most.” Ashton nodded, unsure where Courtney was heading with this.
“You also understand that any disruption to the status quo can affect a player in ways that aren’t always positive.
Keep that in mind if you decide to pursue anything with her. ”
“I’m not going to pursue anything with Razor.”
She truly wasn’t. To act on any feelings, romantic or otherwise, would feel unethical given her current position in Razor’s life. She didn’t want to risk her career nor jeopardize Razor’s second chance at the game she loved.
Courtney gave a curt nod and patted her shoulder.
Then they walked back up the tunnel toward the locker room.
As Ashton opened the door, Razor burst through the opposite side and nearly knocked her over.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and Ashton got a heavy dose of clean, fresh scent when her face inadvertently met Razor’s neck.
She tried not to breathe too deeply, but with the temptation right there, she couldn’t help it.
Goose bumps formed on her arms. The rhythm in her chest skipped a beat, and she leaned forward into the strong body holding her upright, closing her eyes and relishing what she knew would be a very brief moment of joy.
Razor pulled back slightly, and the rest of Ashton’s resolve nearly crumbled.
Dark hair slicked back and held together in a short ponytail framed Razor’s shy smile.
A long-sleeve compression shirt hugged her curves.
Ashton felt the muscles bunch and move underneath her fingertips before Razor pulled out of her grasp completely and stood next to Courtney.
“Sorry about that,” Razor said.
“It’s okay,” Ashton replied, her voice rough. “No harm, no foul.”
A tense silence settled between them.
“Great effort out there today,” Courtney interjected. “How’d it go with Summer?”
Razor laughed. “Feels like I never left, but it also feels brand new.”
“How so?” Ashton asked.
“Summer. She’s got…spirit.”
“If it’s any consolation, it’s not you,” Courtney explained. “She and Taylor didn’t gel right away either. That’s just who Summer is.”
Razor huffed. “I know. I must be patient. Unfortunately, that’s my weakest trait.”
Courtney grimaced. Was she thinking the same thing Ashton was? Three weeks until the season started. Would they be ready?
“Hey Coach!”
They all turned at the voice, and Ashton was surprised to see Harper strolling toward them.
“I was able to end my rounds early. Traffic wasn’t terrible, so I thought I’d try to catch the end of practice.”
“I’m sorry to say practice just ended. I’ve dismissed everyone for the evening,” Courtney replied.
Harper’s face fell. “Oh. Well, it was worth a shot.”
She turned to leave, but Razor caught her arm. “Do you have your gear?”
“Yeah. In my car.”
Razor looked at her watch. “I can give you an hour. Will that work?”
Harper beamed and she bounded toward the exit. “Totally. I’ll be right back.”
“Razor, what are you doing?” Courtney asked. “I can’t stay for an extra hour. I have to pick up my kids.”
Razor flushed with embarrassment at Courtney’s reprimand, but she stood her ground.
“The girl wants to practice, and if she plans to play, she needs to do it.”
“Yes, but you can’t practice unsupervised. Too much liability.”
Razor turned pleading eyes on Ashton. “Can you stay? It’ll only be an hour. Promise.”
She looked at Courtney, who shrugged.
“Um…sure. I can stay.”
Razor grabbed her by the arm and said a quick thank you before sprinting down the tunnel. The spot on her arm was warm where Razor touched it.
“Remember what I said about treading carefully,” Courtney said.
“I do.”
“Good. Then I’ll leave you to it.” Courtney left, shaking her head. Ashton couldn’t blame her for being skeptical. What she’d just done didn’t really fit the definition of treading carefully. But she did feel it was best for the team.
Harper came barreling through the door soon after, whizzing past Ashton. By the time Ashton made her way down the tunnel, Harper’s mask and chest guard were already on. Talk about eager.
“Okay. Where do you want me?”
Razor replied, “Let’s start with framing drills. Get your shin guards on.”
While Harper buckled the guards on, Razor approached Ashton, keeping a respectful distance. “Thank you for staying.”
“Thank you for helping.”
Razor gave a curt nod then knelt down on the turf, giving Harper direction on how to properly frame a softball while Ashton looked on.
For the next hour, they transitioned from one drill to another.
Harper executed most with ease. Occasionally, Ashton heard Razor give small direction for adjustment, which Harper dutifully followed.
When the hour ended, Harper looked almost as good as Razor behind home plate.
And Ashton knew that was as much a reflection of Razor’s ability as it was of Harper’s.
Maybe they could be ready in three weeks.
Now if only they could get Summer on board.