A knock sounded on AJ’s door and he flipped off the television set in his large hotel room. The ball club didn’t hold back when it came to the suite’s for their players. He looked through the peephole and grinned as he saw Joey standing there, waiting nervously for him. He opened the door with a smile, “I thought you had work to do?”

She smiled shyly. “I do.”

His lips curved into a knowing grin, he stepped away from the door. “By all means, come in.”

“I just have a few last minute questions.” She lightly brushed against him as she entered.

He shut the door behind her, “I’m at your disposal.”

“That’s good to know.” She smiled faintly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head, “I was just watching some TV. You’ve gotta love how well they’ve set us up here,” he gestured around the room.

She nodded glancing around. “Isn’t that the truth.”

He gestured to the edge of the bed for her to have a seat, instead of one of the couches or chairs that sat in the room. “Can I get you anything?” He asked taking a step to the small refrigerator, “Soda? A glass of wine?”

She shook her head sitting down. “No, I’m fine.”

“Okay, then.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “So what can I do for you, Joey?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, it is kind of late maybe I should be going. I probably shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No, no.” He crossed the room quickly and sat down beside her, a hand on her arm. “Don’t leave.”

“It is kind of late though...”

“I don’t mind.”

She smiled. “Okay then.”

There was a moment of silence, “How’d your article go? Was I any help?”

“I think it’s okay. I still have to give it a go over to make sure.”

He smiled, “Well good, I wouldn’t want you stressing over that tonight.” He paused, attempting to look seductive, “Besides, there are much better things for you to be stressing over tonight.”

Her mouth turned up in a crooked grin of amusement. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, “Yeah,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.

She tilted her head and moved in, his mouth warm and soft against hers. He slanted his mouth over hers deepening the kiss as he cupped her cheek lightly with his hand. She sighed against his lips. This is what she had been waiting for and kissing him was just what she expected. It was nice, calm, and sweet.

He continued to kiss her, his hand sliding from her cheek down her arm and along her side. He rested his hand at her waist, before slipping, his hands down further down her thigh to the hem of her dress before sliding cold fingers up under the material.

She shifted back a bit on the bed making sure not to break the kiss. Her arms slid behind his neck holding him to her. He lowered her to the bed and moved over her, sliding one knee between her thighs as he inched her dress up, his fingers exploring the newly exposed skin.

She bit her lip and shut her eyes for a moment before opening them slowly gazing up at him unsurely. “Stop?”

It took a moment for her protest to sink in. After a long moment, he pulled back enough to look her in the face. “What?”

Her brown eyes were apologetic. “I’m sorry.” She raised herself up on her elbows. “I want to but I can’t tonight.”

“I thought you wanted...”

“And I did--or still do but I have a six am deadline.”

“Oh...” he swallowed, trying to keep his desire in check. “We can be quick,” He suggested hopefully.

She smiled and shook her head leaning up to give him a soft kiss. “I don’t want us to be quick.”

He sighed, “Yeah, ‘kay.” He sat up putting distance between them. “You should probably get going then.”

She nodded sitting up and straightening out her dress. “Yeah, I probably should.”

“Goodnight, Joey.” He smiled weakly.

The corner of her mouth turned up in a faint smile and she slid off the bed, heading for the door. “Goodnight.”

~*~

Thank God, there was a Starbucks nearby; Joey thought adjusting her sunglasses with the hand that wasn’t holding her tall vanilla latte. She had managed to find the training facility with a little help figuring that if she wanted to get any good information for her article this would be the place to start. Besides AJ would probably be there too which was an added incentive. She really wished she had picked out better clothes but she stopped herself, she was here to work not pick up handsomely cute baseball players so she stuck with her jeans, and a white tank top under an open red button down. She spotted AJ standing off to the side waiting by what looked like an office in the entrance of the building. She smiled and walked over to him. “Hey.”

“Hi, Joey.” He smiled his greeting at her and checked his watch.

She shifted her weight slightly. “So what’s up?”

“I’m running late,” he sighed, looking into the office window, which was still dark.

“Again?”

He shrugged, “It’s not something I strive to be. It always just turns out that way. I have issues with time management.”

She smiled. “I guess I can understand that.”

He glared at the obviously empty office. “I guess I should just go join the others.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He smiled at her gratefully, “Probably better I don’t show up this late alone.”

She grinned. “Glad to be of help then.”

He gave her a half smile and started walking down a large hall that led to two double doors with light streaming out of them.

“Well I guess it’s mutually beneficial. There was no way I’d be able to find my way around here.”

“Yeah, you’ll figure it out pretty quick on your own, it’s not too big.” He pushed open the double doors to reveal the outdoor practice field. The various players were running circles in the dirt track around the field, mostly in pairs talking as they ran.

“That’s good to know then.” She squinted her eyes slightly as she looked around.

“Moller!” A voice off to the side shouted, “You’re late!”

AJ took Joey by the arm and brought her to meet the man behind the booming voice. “I was just showing Joey Potter here the facilities,” he lied.

Joey nodded swiftly eyes wide. “Yes, it was very nice of him to do so.”

“Joey Potter? Are you one of the wives?”

Joey shook her head and pushed her glasses back on top of her head before extending her hand. “No, sir. I’m the reporter sent here by The Globe. I’m supposed to follow the team around.”

“Ahh, good.” He smiled at her for the first time. “We frown upon that sort of thing during spring training.” He held out his hand to her, “Will Krudski, assistant coach.”

She shook it with her own. “To be redundant, Joey Potter. It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled at the pretty girl; she was a good eight or so years younger than he was. “Moller, hit the field, and I want to see you motoring out there, make up for the time you missed.”

Joey braced a hand over her eyes to block out the sun as she surveyed the area and she took a small sip of her coffee. “You don’t mind if I sit down and watch, do you?”

“No, not at all.” He smiled at her, flipping back a few pages on his clipboard. “Not that they’re much to watch right now.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She smiled.

He chuckled, “You do realize they’re just running right? Typical warm up activities.”

She shrugged. “I’m not profoundly clueless.”

“I take it you’re clueless when it comes to baseball?”

She raised an eyebrow taking another sip of her coffee. “Is it that obvious?”

“No,” he shook his head of tawny hair, “I’ve just read your articles.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “As someone who’s been in this business for over a decade, it’s obvious which writers know what they’re talking about and which ones are pulling it from their, uh, from thin air.” He corrected himself, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

She pressed her lips together in a faint grin. “Well, it’s kind of hard to write about something you know nothing about.”

“Well, for someone who doesn’t know anything about baseball, you’re handling this column wonderfully. If you ever need help from an insider, you know who to ask.” He looked out at the team as they ran. He frowned, “Moller! Pick it up!”

She smiled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

He nodded, “Good. You’ll have to excuse me, I need to talk with Al for a few.” He moved to walk to the left where a few folding tables were set up, and a group of about ten men milled around going over papers and discussing things among themselves.

Joey nodded and tried to find herself a seat. Thanking God for a little miracle called caffeine. She’d ended up going to bed at almost four that morning trying to finish her article.

Somewhere among the men at the table, a whistle blew and the players turned and jogged to the group. A man who, Joey assumed, was one of the coaches began to give orders.

“Everyone stretch it out and warm up by throwing a few balls. As you’re doing that, we’ll pull you aside one by one and get you to meet with a trainer and start going over your off-season regime and current condition. Equipment is spread out over there,” he gestured to the left. “Get a move on. We have a lot to do and only a month to do it!”

Joey yawned and settled back in a metal chair she had found. This was going to be a long, boring day.

This went on for a good hour, the team stretching their arms and legs out, and then gathering some mitts and balls to pass around. They all seemed perfectly content to be doing that, talking and joking amongst themselves as the Florida sun beat down on them. Not much to base a story on.

Pacey jogged over to the refreshment table and poured himself a cub of Gatorade, wiping the sweat from his brow. It felt good to be out on the field, just tossing the ball around. He looked back at his new teammates, secure now that he was a welcomed addition to the ball club; they were good guys, professional and friendly. He spotted Joey off to the side, watching from a folding chair looking bored. But then, she always looked bored to him. Except that night in Boston. He shook that thought from his head as he walked over to her.

“Hey, Potter.”

Joey looked up distracted from her watching of AJ. She wondered if she had blown it last night. She certainly hoped not. “Um, hey.”

“You look bored stiff.”

“That’s because I am.”

He held out his hand to her, “Come on.”

She looked at it suspiciously. “What?”

He rolled his eyes, “Would you just come with me? I promise, I won’t bite.”

She sighed and stood up. “Fine.”

He led her to the array of sporting equipment, “Left or right?”

“Huh?”

“Are you left or right handed?” He said each word slowly and clearly.

She shot him a glare. “Right.”

He reached down for a glove and handed it to her, “Try this one.”

She took it from him begrudgingly and examined it carefully before attempting to put it on.

He smiled, pulling the glove away from her right hand, “It goes on the left. You throw with your right.”

“Oh...” She put the glove on her left hand instead.

“Beginners mistake.” He held his glove up in the air, “Hey, Juan!” The other man quickly tossed the ball to Pacey and it fell into his clove like a homing beacon. He met Joey’s eyes, “This,” he deposited the ball into her mitt, “Is a baseball.”

“I couldn’t tell,” she said dryly.

He gave her an indulgent smile and jogged backwards a good ten feet. “Okay, Potter, show me what kind of arm you have.”

Joey tried to do her best to aim for his head before throwing the ball.

He had to reach to his right and up to catch the ball, but he caught it. “Not bad.” He tossed it back to her.

“I was aiming for your head,” she said simply and tried to catch the ball.

He laughed, shaking his head, “Then you were even closer than I thought. Make sure to spread your fingers out when you catch, bigger pocket for the ball to fall into,” he suggested.

“O-kay...”

“Now, aim for my glove this time, ‘kay?”

“Do I have to?”

“I doubt you’d hit your target, but to be on the safe side...” he winked at her, stretching his glove open to catch her throw.

“Oh I don’t know about that...It’s a pretty big target.” She threw the ball.

He chuckled, plucking the ball from the air. “So maybe I deserved that,” he gave in, arching the ball so it would fall easily into her glove.

“Maybe?” She spread her fingers out as instructed and closed them around the ball when she caught it.

“I happen to think my ego isn’t as big as you want to make it out to be.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She glanced out toward the field trying to spot AJ.

“Quit ogling your boy-toy and throw me the ball.”

Her eyes narrowed and she threw the ball angrily. “I was doing no such thing.”

He gave her a knowing look. “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.”

“You’re delusional.”

He smirked, “Whatever you say. When you catch the ball, close your right hand over the mitt, to keep it from popping out again.”

“This is so annoying.”

“I’m just trying to help you out here, give you a feel for the game.” He tossed the ball back to her. “But if you’d rather, you can go sit back down with your lonely coffee.”

“This is just as boring.”

He sighed, “Don’t be so uptight.”

“I’m not uptight. “

“Relax, Joey.” He told her, “Just don’t think so much. Playing catch could be therapeutic for you.”

“I am relaxed.”

“Then you wouldn’t be bored.” They continued to toss the ball back and forth and he moved back a few more feet.

“I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

He frowned, “You’re thinking too much. Can’t you just enjoy the sun over head? The feel of a ball in your hand? The smack of the leather as you make a catch?”

She smiled faintly. “No.”

He shook his head in shame, “That’s too bad.”

She shrugged. “It’s not my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“I like what I do.”

“What? Writing?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“So do you just do the journalism or is there a torrid grocery store romance author buried beneath the detached veneer?”

“Ooh, you discovered my secret.” She rolled her eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re overly sarcastic?”

“No.”

“You’re overly sarcastic,” he told her.

“Yeah, well you’re annoying.”

“So you’ve told me repeatedly.”

“And I still don’t think it’s sunk in.”

“And it probably wont. So it’s probably best for your sanity if you just deal with it.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something else now?”

“Probably.”

“Please, don’t let me stop you.”

“Don’t worry, I think we’re about done here.” He threw her the ball one last time before he joined his teammates as they moved on to the batting cages.

Joey sighed and let the ball drop to the ground. She pulled off the glove and tossed it aside. She headed for her chair and grabbed her coffee. She’d seen enough. She was going back to the hotel.

~*~

Pacey leaned up against the batting cages, watching one of his teammates, Juan Santillion, take a few swings. Inwardly, he critiqued the batter, his stance, grip on the bat and follow through. He guessed that the pitching machine was throwing at about 88 or 89 mph, about average in the big leagues.

Will approached the younger man and tapped him on his shoulder. “Witter, you’re up for a physical.”

He turned, “Yeah, sure.” He smiled at the man a few years older than he was. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Will Krudski. I’d get used to this face if I were you.”

Pacey smiled, “No problem. You’re far less scary looking than Martin.”

“Martin’s not that bad. Just doesn’t have much patience for stupidity.”

“I don’t think he’ll have that problem with me.” Pacey assured the coach as they headed through the building, for the physicians offices.

“I don’t think he’ll have that problem with me.” Pacey assured the coach as they headed through the building, for the physicians offices.

“That’s good to hear. So how are you liking it so far? It’s a great team we have out there.”

He shrugged, “I’m just happy to play. From what I’ve seen...for all that we’ve only done a few laps and played catch...it looks like we have a good ball club.”

“That’s good and how are you getting along with the other guys?”

“So far so good. They’ve all been very welcoming.” He lowered his voice slightly, “I have to admit, I was a little nervous at first. But we’re all here to do the same thing and enjoy ourselves, right? I had no reason to worry.” He said, thinking back on what Joey had said.

“Yeah, and we’re all glad to have you here.”

“I think some maybe more than others,” he said dryly as Will pushed a door open and gestured for him to take a seat as they waited for the physician.

Will noticed the tone of his voice. “Someone giving you trouble?”

“No. Not yet anyway. It just seems like AJ...Moller is it? Seems like he’s under the impression that I don’t really deserve to be here.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the kid, lots of bluster but not enough brains for the game.”

“Hmm, how old is he?” Pacey wondered, reaching down for the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

“He’s still young. Only twenty-two, he could have a hell of an arm if he’d just put his mind to it.”

“So why isn’t he down in triple-A?”

“We needed another relief pitcher and he’s the best we’ve got down there until we can make some trades.”

“Oh, so I take it our strength this year isn’t going to be the bullpen?”

“No, it’s not.”

Pacey shrugged, “So, this AJ kid...” He tried to think of a subtle way to ask his question, then simply blurted it out. “Is he seeing anyone?”

Will eyed Pacey strangely through the corner of his eye but decided not to ask. “He has a fiancé back home in Atlanta. Pretty little blond thing named Morgan.”

Pacey’s eyes darkened imperceptibly. “Kinda young to have a fiancé, isn’t he?”

“High school sweethearts, besides aren’t you divorced?”

He shrugged, “There were extenuating circumstances.” He shrugged it off as the athletic trainer/physician finally entered the room.

Will cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure there were.”

“Okay, Mr. Witter, I’m Levi Connelly,” the trainer introduced himself, looking down at the clipboard Will handed him. “Let’s get down to business and take a look at what kind of shape you’re in?”