The Perfect Play by Cookie O’Gorman

CHAPTER 13: Chase

Sundays were the best.

It was the start of a new week. Most of Omega Beta liked to sleep in, so I could usually get down the stairs and out the door without running into anyone. Not that I was anti-social. I liked checking in, talking to my brothers and teammates. But last night, I'd heard about ten variations of "Sorry about the game, man. You'll get 'em next time." The pitying looks that accompanied the words were what really got to me.

Anyway, I wasn't in a big hurry to run into anyone.

Charlie. My mind was totally focused on her and getting to Magnolia House to pick her up. Charlie never looked at me with pity. She seemed determined to help me—though I wasn't sure if she or anyone else could. It hadn't taken me long to realize that the best moments of my last few days all happened when she was around. I wanted more of that.

More of her.

And I couldn't ever remember feeling that way about anyone.

My mind was so focused on the meeting we'd set up for today that I didn't notice there was another person standing in the kitchen until he spoke.

"Going somewhere?" Baylor said, stepping out with a bowl of cereal in his hand.

I blinked. "I didn't think you ever got up before noon."

He waved me off. "Eh, I couldn’t sleep."

"Is that your subtle way of saying you brought a girl home last night?"

"Subtle isn't my thing," he said, "as you well know. And for your information, no, I didn't have a girl last night, nosey."

That was almost unheard of. My brother was popular with women. He loved them, and they loved him. I was immediately concerned.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Nah, just wasn't in the mood," he said.

I frowned, waiting for him to go on.

"I kept replaying that loss, wondering if there was more I could've done. You know how it is."

I did. It might not have been apparent to other people, but Baylor cared as much as I did about baseball. We didn't just hate to lose. We wanted to win. That mindset had served us well in the past, but it also had a downside.

"Sorry," I said. "Not about you and your lack of a plus one. I think that's a good thing. But…yeah, I'm sorry about the game."

Baylor shook his head. "What are you sorry for? Sure, you weren't playing at your best. But we lost as a team. It wasn't just you."

I nodded, but inside, the doubt lingered. If I had played my best, we probably could've taken the other team. That wasn't arrogance talking either. Just experience.

"So, why are you up so early?" he asked again.

I gave a small smile. "I've got a meeting."

"On a Sunday?"

"Yeah."

His brows furrowed. "Who with, one of the assistant coaches? I thought you were going to work out. You're dressed for it."

"Nope, the meeting's with a girl."

"Oh yeah?" Baylor grinned.

"I'm headed to see Charlie," I said. "She says she can help with my arm."

"What are you guys going to do?"

I shrugged. "Not sure. But I can't lie. I like her, and I'm looking forward to it."

Tipping the bowl to his mouth, Baylor gulped the rest of his cereal. It had been half-full. But in a blink, the contents were gone. He placed the now-empty bowl and spoon in the sink.

"Maybe I'll come, too," he said. "For moral support."

"That's okay," I said. "Charlie's really supportive. I'm sure we'll be fine."

Baylor groaned. "Chase, I know she's Emmy's roommate. I know you have to spend time with her because she's your PT. But do you hear yourself? You actually sound happy about waking up at the asscrack of dawn."

"So?"

"My point is you need to be careful with this girl."

I shook my head in amazement. "I can't believe it. You actually sound concerned. What do you have against Charlie?"

"Nothing," he said. "She's a hell of a lot more experienced than you, my brother. That's all I'm saying."

"Noted," I said and crossed my arms. "Was there anything else?"

He cocked his head at my dismissive tone. "Yeah. Wear your heart on your sleeve, and it's bound to get burned. And just so you know, you do that, Chase. You always have. Your heart is out there, exposed with no protection whatsoever. That is why I worry."

"Jeez, Bay. I'm touched."

"As your older brother, I have to look out for you," he said.

"You're only older by three-and-half minutes," I pointed out, but Bay held up a hand.

"Doesn't matter. As the dominant male, it's my duty to protect you."

I laughed at that.

"I still think I should come."

I shook my head. "Thanks, but no."

"You know what?" Baylor shrugged. "You're right. I don't need to go. I'll know if something's wrong through the twin bond."

"Bay, we've talked about this." I sighed. "That isn't a thing."

"Oh, but it is," he said. "Don't you remember the night I fell into that old well in the woods behind Aunt Genevieve's house? If there's no bond, how do you explain how you knew exactly where to find me?"

"You left a trail of Silly String from the backyard that led directly to the hole."

Baylor sniffed.

"Plus, I heard you scream when you fell," I said. "I think everyone in the neighborhood did. It was loud and shrill, kind of like an owl in distress."

"Or," he said, "you felt my pain telepathically through the twin bond we share and knew I needed immediate assistance. That seems much more likely to me."

I didn't even try to argue because I knew it was futile.

"See you later," Baylor said as I went to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I didn't see how that was good advice. Baylor didn't have many boundaries, and he was more than a little reckless. There wasn't a lot he hadn't done. It was almost like he was giving me permission to do anything.

On the short drive to Magnolia House, all thoughts of my brother left me. I walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, eager to see Charlie again.

Honor answered instead and gave me a once-over.

"Hey, Chase," she said. "Nice sweats."

"Thanks," I said then gestured inside. "Can I come in?"

"Nope, sorry. No boys allowed. That's Charlie's rule, and we all agreed."

"Ah, I forgot."

"It's fine. She'll be out in a second." Honor smiled. "So, you look perky. Any particular reason for that?"

I shrugged. "Excited to find out what's up with my arm."

Her eyes went a bit soft. "I get that."

And there it was. The pity.

"I know it's been a struggle," she added. "But trust me, Charlie is awesome at what she does. If anyone can help you recover faster and better, she can."

"I believe that," I said. "Charlie is pretty amazing."

Honor nodded, her eyes shining with something that looked like approval.

"She is. I'm so glad you can see that."

I narrowed my gaze. "How could anyone miss it?"

"You might be surprised," she murmured. "Guys in the past haven't always been so clear-eyed when it comes to my bestie."

Before I could ask what she meant, Charlie came to the door.

She was dressed in a pink tank top and black yoga pants that fit her like a glove. Her hair was down in long waves, the light shining off the blond, making it look like spun gold. I didn't know if she was wearing makeup or not. Her face looked fresh and dewy, though. Her eyelashes were full as she blinked up at me.

"Wow," I said. "Charlie, you're gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes but sounded pleased. "Yeah right, these are just some old workout clothes."

"I feel like a bum in this sweatshirt."

"No, you're good," she said. "Besides"—Charlie shot me a grin—"you can always take it off later if you get too hot."

"True," I said. "Though I think the forecast said it's supposed to be cool today."

"A girl can hope."

Was that…yep, she just winked at me. And what was up with that last statement? Was Charlie saying she hoped I'd take my shirt off during the course of our time together?

Trying not to read anything into it, I shoved my hands into my pockets.

"Well, we better get going," Charlie said. "See you later, H."

"Bye, best friend. I want to hear everything when you get back," she said then turned to me. "Chase, I hope you guys have a good time."

I grinned back at Honor. "I'm sure we will."

"And"—she lowered her voice—"just remember what I said. Men always see how beautiful Charlie is on the outside, but they hardly ever take the time to get to know what's on the inside. And that's just as beautiful."

"Thanks, Honor, but I'd already noticed that."

"I thought you might," she said then closed the door behind her.

Charlie was waiting on the sidewalk when I got there.

"Where to now?" I asked.

"The field," she said. "I hope you're ready to work hard, O'Brien. I'm not going to take it easy on you today."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It should."

I probably would've listened, caught the warning in her voice, if I wasn't so distracted by her mere presence. My workouts were always strenuous. That was just part of being a collegiate athlete. I knew this wouldn't be easy. But once we reached the field and I finished stretching, Charlie turned into a drill sergeant.

Though granted she was the most attractive one I'd ever seen.

Even when she was tossing orders my way.

"Keep running," Charlie said.

I bit back a grin. "Whatever you say."

"And pick up those knees. This isn't supposed to be a cakewalk, O'Brien."

"I thought you were going to check out my pitches," I said.

"We'll do that in a second." She fluttered her hand at me. "Just keep going. Three more laps."

"No problem."

After another few minutes, I stopped in front of her and gave a nod.

"Okay," I said. "What next?"

"You don't even look out of breath," Charlie said, sounding disappointed.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, but I'm kind of used to this. Pitchers need to have a lot of leg strength as well as a strong upper body."

She lifted a brow. "Thanks, Chase, but I already knew that thanks to Google. Now, let's do some push-ups. Drop and give me twenty."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Does it sound like I'm joking?"

No. No, it did not.

I dropped and started the reps.

"Actually, make it thirty," Charlie added. "Add ten burpees while you're at it. You're definitely not sweaty enough yet."

"If I didn't know better," I said, "I'd think you were trying to tire me out."

"Something like that," she said. "I just want to make sure you're warmed up."

After finishing the burpees, my heartrate had accelerated, and I was definitely starting to sweat. Charlie sounded pleased as I wiped my brow.

"There, that's better."

"Tell the truth," I said. "Did you want me warm just so I'd take my shirt off?"

Charlie tilted her head with a smile. "Oh my gosh, you caught me. I just have to see Chase O'Brien's amazing abs again. I've been dreaming of this moment. It's what I'll write about in my diary tonight."

I rolled my eyes. "No need to be sarcastic."

Moving one hand above my head, I tugged off my sweatshirt, but the tee I had underneath came up along with it. My stomach and lower torso was exposed for like five seconds. Charlie's eyes stayed there for four of those seconds—before she met my amused gaze and quickly looked away.

"No need to be cocky," she said.

"I was teasing," I said. "Though you did just call my abs amazing and promise to write about them. A guy's bound to have a big head after that."

Charlie gave a put upon sigh. "Alright, O'Brien, moving on. I'm going to stand over there with the reader thingy to check your speed." I started to grin but stopped when she shot me a look. "I expect you to take this seriously. You'll be throwing into the net since we don't have a catcher."

I nodded. "You know, I bet Archer would come out if we asked."

She waved that off. "It's just the two of us today."

Sounds good to me, I thought.

"This is a stress-free environment. The goal is for me to figure out what's going on. To do that, we need to simulate how you'll pitch in a real game. I'll record the speeds as we go. You just give it your best and aim for the little red square."

I had the urge to smile but held back. Charlie might not have known it, but I'd been throwing into that little square since I was seven.

"No problem," I said.

"I didn't get up early on a Sunday, fix my hair and wear my best yoga pants, to come out here and watch you mess around," she added.

I gave a nod.

"Okay then, Chase. Impress me."

Charlie walked several paces behind the net and got ready.

"Remember I want your best," she said.

My smile bloomed fully then. "Are you sure you can handle it, Charlie? I've been told my best is pretty amazing—kind of like my abs."

Charlie shook her head. "And everyone thinks you're so modest."

I shrugged. "I actually am in comparison to my siblings—except for maybe Finn. My youngest brother's always been shy."

"I like Finn," she said.

My brows pinched together as I threw my first pitch. "You do? I didn't even know you knew Finn that well."

"Yeah, he's cool. He's been over to the house a few times to hang with Rose."

"I thought it was a guy-free zone."

"Usually," she said. I kept throwing as Charlie recorded the speed of each pitch. "But Finn might be my favorite O'Brien after your sister, so it's cool."

Her words made my stomach clench for some reason.

"Although, I like Dex, too."

"What?" I nearly shouted, pausing for a second. "You like Dex? When did this happen?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. He just seems complex and a little devious. That part reminds me of…well, me."

I was speechless for a moment.

"Chase, what are you doing?" she said. "Keep pitching."

I did. My mind was clear of everything except what she'd just said about Dex. I'd lost track of how many pitches I'd thrown. They were all ending up in the center of that little square, though.

"He's definitely beautiful, too, even with the scar."

"So, you're into that?" I asked.

"Into what?"

I breathed then threw, another pitch landing perfectly in the net. "The whole troubled, bad boy thing?"

Charlie recorded the pitch then said, "Not going to lie. I like a little trouble."

I swear my next pitch had to have nearly burned a hole in the net.

"But I'm not really interested in Dex."

I stopped mid-windup and looked to her. "Why not?" I asked.

"He's interesting, like I said." Charlie lifted a hand. "Just not for me."

Why did my chest suddenly feel like a weight had been lifted?

I shook out my arm and got ready.

"Where do I fall then?" I asked. Seeing the question in her eyes, I clarified. "On the list of which O'Brien you like best?"

Charlie smiled in response. "You're somewhere in the middle, I think. Definitely not last. That place is tied between Baylor, your panty-thieving twin—"

"Never going to forget that are you," I mumbled.

"—and Archer, the guy who made my best friend cry after abandoning her."

I ran a hand over my neck. "Archer acted how he did because he felt responsible. For what happened to me."

She held up a hand. "Whatever. Honor's forgiven him, and that's cool. My heart is harder, I guess, so it'll take me longer."

"He knows he was a jerk and will regret it forever," I said. "But he didn't stay away that long. He couldn't."

"She cried," Charlie said. "A lot."

"So did he."

She sniffed, and seeing that we were at an impasse, I forced a grin.

"Well," I said, "at least I'm not your least favorite."

Charlie shook her head. "Not by a longshot."

"Maybe I can even work my way up to the top spot."

"You never know," she said. Gesturing for me to stop, she held up a hand. "Okay, I think that's enough. Let's check out the results."

"Alright," I said, walking over to meet her. "How was it? I know I've been fading in the games, but that didn't feel so bad."

Charlie gave me an odd look. "You just averaged 87 mph."

I blinked. "No way."

"Yes way," she replied. "Come double-check the math. That average was out of 35 pitches, and trust me, there was no fade whatsoever. You actually got better near the end."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's almost as good as before the injury."

"What was your typical speed?"

"I averaged upper 80s to low 90s."

Charlie tilted her head from side to side in thought. "That's awesome, Chase. But you know, I read an article that said more injuries happen to professional pitchers who pitch crazy fast, especially in the mid-90s. I think you should try to stay in the mid to upper-80s range, and just kill it with good, solid technique."

I nodded but was still kind of in shock.

"You looked up articles about baseball?"

"Of course." She shrugged like it was no big deal. "How does your arm feel?"

"Feels good," I said honestly. "But how can that be? Every time I've practiced with the team or played in a game, my arm is worn out by this time."

Charlie cocked her head. "What do you think about during practice?"

"Everything," I said. "My arm. My team. My family and how much I want to win for them and for myself."

"What about at the games?"

"Honestly?" I grimaced. "It never used to be this way, but recently, my main thought has been I hope I don't screw up."

"And what were you thinking of when you pitched just now?" she asked.

You, I thought but didn't say. I was thinking of you and how you might like my brothers better than me, how pissed that made me, and how I desperately want to be your favorite.

"Nothing much," I said. "My mind was mostly clear."

Except for the thoughts of Charlie.

Strangely, instead of distracting me, our talk had only served to quiet all the noise. The girl in front of me seemed to understand that better than I did. While I was trying to make sense of everything, she was already nodding.

"I knew it," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"The problem isn't with your arm," Charlie said. "It's mental not physical."

"But the games…my body always feels drained way too early."

"Of course, it does. The world is putting all this stress and pressure on your shoulders. You're doing it, too, afraid you won't live up to everyone's expectations. The issue's in your mind, Chase. Get that sorted, and you'll be kicking butt and taking names."

I looked down again to be sure, but the numbers didn't lie. My speed was good. Almost every one of those pitches had been perfectly in the strike zone. Best of all, my arm still felt like there was gas in the tank. Sure, it might've been a fluke. I'd need to see how I held up in practice, but everything Charlie was saying rang true.

"Some pre-game meditation might help," she said. "And again, Frankincense. Keep using a few drops of that on your arm at night, maybe even before the game. Say a prayer. And for goodness sake, start believing in yourself."

Shaking my head, I met her gaze. "I don't know how to thank you. Saying it doesn't seem like enough. Charlie, if you're right, you may have just saved my life."

Her brows rose at that. "If I'm right?"

"I'm not doubting, just being cautiously optimistic."

"Screw that," she said. "Get over yourself, O'Brien. Your arm's fine."

I smiled at that. "I still can't believe you managed to cure me in a couple of hours."

"Newsflash: You were already cured. I just helped you see the light."

"And I'm so thankful for that, Charlie," I said. "Are you hungry? The least I can do is get you lunch."

"I could eat," she said.

"Awesome, I'll drive."

"And we could even work on that other thing we talked about," she said.

My brow furrowed. "What other thing?"

She threw me a wink. "Practicing so you're ready for your soulmate, of course."

I swallowed.

"But only if you want to."

Oh, I wanted to.