Thrown by a Curve by Jaci Burton Read Free Book Online

you’re the one who needs to go back to bed. You’re cranky.”
    “You’re right. I am cranky because you’re making light of what I consider serious business, which is your recovery and your career.”
    “Your cup is on the counter. Cream and sugar are there if you want it.”
    He leaned against the counter and took a drink. Then another, waiting for the surge of caffeine to give him the jolt he’d need to deal with Alicia this morning.
    Fortunately, she wandered over, picked up the cup, and grabbed some sugar to add to it, then leaned beside him to silently drink.
    Silence. He liked that word. He’d gotten through his first cup and was on his second before she spoke again.
    “You think this is fun for me?”
    He looked down at her, feeling a lot more charitable now that he was fully awake. “Probably not. But you could have just let one day slide.”
    She sat her cup on the counter and turned to face him. “One day can make all the difference in your recovery. I’ve studied your chart. It’s not just one day, Garrett. You’ve let a lot of days slide since your injury. And the team let you. That’s not going to happen with me. If I have to camp out on your doorstep and drag your lazy ass out of bed every day, then I will. If I have to move in with you and kick you out of bed to get you to cooperate, then that’s what’s going to happen. But one way or the other, you’re going to get the therapy you need to get your arm in shape come game day.”
    Now that he was sufficiently awake, he was geared up for battle. He turned to her. “I don’t need a goddamn babysitter.”
    “Then stop behaving like a child and act like an adult. One who takes his responsibilities seriously.”
    He arched a brow and crossed his arms. “So I sleep in one morning, and I’ve suddenly failed?”
    “You cancelled your therapy sessions thirty-four times before I took over.”
    He cocked a brow. “You counted?”
    “Yes. And while you think missing one session doesn’t make a difference, blowing off thirty-four sessions does. That’s why you’re not improving. That’s why you’re not on the mound throwing pitches yet. Have you even had a ball in your hand since you’ve been injured?”
    He changed his mind. He didn’t like Alicia after all, and frankly, he hated her ball-busting attitude.
    “Answer me. Have you?”
    “No.”
    “Then stop blowing me off and start taking this therapy seriously. Maybe then we’ll get somewhere.”
    Tired of listening to her, he pushed off the counter. “I’m going to take a shower.”
    She trailed after him.
    He turned to her in the middle of the hallway. “You going to follow me into the shower?”
    That finally got through to her. She stopped. “I’ll wait here.”
    He looked her up and down. Just the thought of her stripping down to continue their argument in the shower was enough to make his dick twitch to life. He needed to get away from her before he did something really stupid, like suggest they use their energy on something more productive, like sex.
    And then she’d really be pissed off at him.
    He pivoted and headed into the bedroom, stripped off his sweats and turned the shower on, blowing out a frustrated breath as he stepped under the steamy water.
    He’d always hated being told what to do. Being in this business, it was all about the rules, including where you fit in the rotation.
    Hell, at the rate he was going, he’d be lucky to be in the rotation at all. If he didn’t rehab well, he could end up losing his job as a starter, a job he’d worked his ass off to get and to hold on to. Instead, he could wind up as a middle-inning reliever, tossing a few pitches every couple of games when needed. If he pitched at all.
    Or he could end up spending this season rehabbing his arm in the minors.
    He shoved his face under the spray and thought about what that might be like.
    The one thing he knew about the majors was that once you went backward, you very rarely got a shot