Pitching for Keeps (Austin Stars #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

I'm doing great. Really, I am. I have a good job, a nice apartment in Dallas, and I hardly ever think about Jay Talley anymore.

Maybe once a day. Twice, tops. Three times if there's a baseball game on TV, which I definitely don't watch.

Except for Rangers games. And occasionally Astros games.

And okay, fine, I have the MiLB app on my phone, but that's just because I enjoy supporting minor league baseball.

The fact that I get notifications every time the Austin Stars play has nothing to do with checking if a certain pitcher's ERA has improved.

"Tracy, you're mumbling to yourself again," Megan says from the driver's seat, shooting me one of her big-sister looks. "Are you nervous about meeting Greg's groomsmen? Because I told you, they're all really nice. Especially Jay?—"

"I'm not nervous!" My voice comes out approximately three octaves higher than normal. "Why would I be nervous? I love meeting new people. Meeting people is great. People are... great."

Megan's eyes narrow in the rearview mirror. "Okay, what's wrong with you? You've been weird ever since I mentioned this weekend."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just excited about your wedding stuff.

" I straighten my color-coded wedding planning binder—yes, I color-code everything, and no, it's not weird—and try to look casual.

"Bachelor and bachelorette parties, rehearsal dinner, all the.

.. festivities. Good thing I took the entire week off work. "

I've been weird ever since Megan mentioned that Greg's friend Jay from college was in the wedding party.

Jay's not exactly an uncommon name. There are probably thousands of guys named Jay in Texas.

The odds that it's my Jay—not that he's my Jay; he hasn't been my Jay for five years—are astronomically small.

"Well, good, because everyone's meeting us at the restaurant in twenty minutes. Greg's already there with the guys." She grins at me in that way that means she's plotting something. "Did I mention Jay's single?"

My stomach does a little flip that has nothing to do with the fact that I skipped lunch. "That's... nice."

"He plays baseball. For the Austin Stars! Isn't that cool? Greg says he's really good. Maybe we can all go to a game this weekend!"

The color-coded binder slips from my suddenly nerveless fingers, scattering carefully organized vendor lists across the floor of Megan's car. I dive to collect them, grateful for the excuse to hide my face.

The Austin Stars. Of course. Of course it's that Jay.

"Baseball's boring," I manage, shuffling papers with shaking hands. "All that standing around."

"Since when do you think baseball's boring? You used to drag me to games all the time in college."

"That was... different. College baseball has more... energy." I can't find my rehearsal dinner seating chart. Why can't I find my rehearsal dinner seating chart? I need that seating chart like I need oxygen.

"Well, Jay played college ball too. At State, actually! Different school from Greg though. They were high school teammates back in the day. Small world, right?"

I locate the seating chart under my seat and clutch it like a lifeline. "Super small."

Five years. It's been five years since I've seen Jay Talley.

Five years since I sat in those uncomfortable bleachers at State University, wearing his practice jersey and cheering until my voice went hoarse.

Five years since he told me he was entering the draft early, since I told him to follow his dreams, since we decided long-distance would be too hard while he was in the minors and I was finishing school.

Five years since the worst decision of my life.

"Earth to Tracy!" Megan pulls into the restaurant parking lot. "Seriously, what is going on with you?"

"I'm fine. Just... you know. Thinking about all the wedding stuff we need to accomplish this week." I take a deep breath, channel my professional marketing manager persona, and reach for the door handle. "Let's go meet everyone."

The restaurant is one of those family-style places with sports memorabilia on the walls and TVs in every corner. Of course it is. Of course, Greg would pick a sports bar for this dinner. There's even a Rangers game playing because, apparently, the universe thinks it's hilarious.

I spot the group before they see us—a long table full of laughing people in the back corner. Greg's at the head, gesturing wildly as he tells some story. And there, three seats down, is a profile that makes my heart stop.

Jay's grown into his height, filled out in that way that says professional athlete rather than college kid. His dark hair is shorter now, more precisely cut. But when he throws his head back to laugh at something Greg says, it's the same laugh that used to make me feel like I could fly.

"There they are!" Megan waves enthusiastically, dragging me forward before I can bolt for the exit. "Everybody, this is my sister Tracy!"

The table turns to look at us, a blur of friendly faces and welcoming smiles. I'm introduced to Brian, the best man; Jake and Tony, the other groomsmen; various significant others whose names I immediately forget because Jay is turning in his chair, and our eyes meet, and?—

"Tracy?" His voice cracks slightly on my name.

"You two know each other?" Greg asks, looking between us with interest.

"We... had some classes together," I say, which isn't technically a lie. We did have that one communications elective junior year. That we were already dating and spent the entire semester passing notes like middle schoolers is beside the point.

"Small world!" Megan chirps, ushering me into a seat that is, naturally, directly across from Jay. "What are the odds?"

Astronomical, I want to say. The odds were supposed to be astronomical.

"Tracy was big into the campus activities scene," Jay says carefully, his eyes never leaving mine. "Student government, right?"

"Among other things." Like being at every single baseball game, charting his pitches, bringing him lucky pennies I found heads-up on campus.

The waitress saves us by appearing to take drink orders. I ask for sweet tea and try not to remember that Jay used to tease me about my obsession with sweet tea, said I had more sugar than blood in my veins.

"So Tracy," Jake leans forward with a grin, "Megan says you're some hotshot marketing person in Dallas now?"

I launch into my prepared spiel about my job, grateful for the distraction. It's easier to talk about campaign strategies and donor engagement than to think about how Jay's fingers are drumming against the table in that pattern he does when he's nervous—thumb, middle, index, pinky, repeat.

"That's impressive," someone says when I finish. "Must keep you pretty busy."

"Oh, she always makes time for important things," Megan interjects. "Tracy's super organized. She probably already has our entire wedding week color-coded and scheduled down to the minute."

Everyone laughs. I force a smile and resist the urge to point out that color-coding is a perfectly legitimate organizational system.

"Speaking of the schedule," Greg says, "I thought we could all catch Jay's game tomorrow night! The Stars are playing at home, and he can get us tickets."

"You don't have to—" Jay starts.

"Are you kidding? We're definitely coming to see you pitch!" Tony raises his glass. "To Jay, a baseball king!"

Everyone toasts. I lift my sweet tea and try to look like someone who’s just going along with the baseball talk to not be rude. Kind of like I haven't been tracking every start, every earned run, every strikeout for the past five years.

"Tracy, you'll come too, right?" Megan asks. "It'll be fun!"

"I don't know much about baseball," I lie through my teeth.

"Jay can explain it to you," Greg offers helpfully.

"He's an outstanding teacher. Helped me understand the infield fly rule, and that was no small feat." He chuckled and shook his head. “You’d think at the high school level I’d have at least had a clue about that rule, but that wasn’t meant to be until Jay took care of it.”

Jay meets my eyes across the table, and I see the moment he remembers teaching me the exact same thing freshman year, drawing diagrams on napkins in the dining hall.

"Sure," he says quietly. "if Tracy wants to learn."

The conversation moves on to wedding logistics, bachelor party plans, funny stories about Greg and Megan's relationship.

I contribute when necessary, laugh at the right moments, but I'm hyperaware of Jay across the table.

The way he still talks with his hands when he's excited.

How he unconsciously rubs his right elbow—the one that needed Tommy John surgery senior year.

The way he keeps glancing at me when he thinks I'm not looking.

"Oh!" Megan suddenly exclaims as our food arrives. "Jay, did you know Tracy lives in Dallas now? That's not far from Austin at all! Maybe you two could?—"

"Megan," I interrupt, recognizing her matchmaker voice, "I'm sure Jay's very busy with baseball."

"The season's actually just heating up," Jake offers unhelpfully. "All-Star break isn't even until July."

"Then I'm sure he needs to focus on training. Or... whatever baseball players do in the off-season." I cut my chicken with perhaps more force than necessary.

"Actually, I—" Jay starts, then stops. "Yeah. Training."

An awkward silence falls over our section of the table. Megan looks between us with the expression that means she's sensing a story, and the last thing I need is my sister the amateur detective on the case.

"So!" I say brightly. "Tell me about the bachelor party plans!"

The conversation shifts, crisis averted. But as Brian launches into a complicated explanation involving laser tag and go-karts, I catch Jay's eye again. He mouths something that might be "we should talk," and I pretend not to understand.