that kind of flair.
“Did you decorate the place yourself?”
“Huh?” he asked as he came in with their drinks then looked around as she motioned to the living area. “Oh. Hell, no. If it were up to me, there’d be like a folding table in here, and I’d be sitting on the floor. Some chick at the furniture store recommended a decorator, who took care of everything.”
“She did a good job. I guess I’m just surprised that you live in a nicely furnished house, you being a single guy and all. Most of the guys I know live in apartments or a condo.”
He laughed as he flopped onto the sofa next to her. “I like big spaces. I did my time in apartments. Too cramped for me.”
“Well, you’re a big guy. I could see why that wouldn’t work for you.”
“How about you?”
“An apartment. I’m not a big guy, so it suits my purposes.”
He gave her a long once-over, the kind that a man gave a woman he was definitely noticing. It made the room seem awfully warm. “No, you’re definitely not big . . . or a guy.”
She laughed. “No, I’m not. But I have lived with a big guy. And sharing a tiny bathroom with my brother growing up wasn’t fun. The apartment I live in now is like a castle by comparison.”
“College was like that for me. I shared a bathroom with three other guys. Not anything I ever want to do again.”
“I did that in college, too, though I shared a bathroom with about fifteen women.”
He made a face. “All those hair products.”
She laughed. “Hey, we managed. And how did you score a suite?”
“Athletic dorm. It wasn’t too bad.”
“No kidding. You got lucky. You went to college in Oklahoma, right?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back on the sofa with his drink. “In fact, there’s a get-together with some of the guys from my dorm coming up. Haven’t seen some of them in a while.”
“Are you going?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t thought much about it. Been focusing on the shoulder thing, you know.”
“You should go. It would be good for you to reconnect with your friends from college.”
“Maybe.” He took a long swallow of his drink, and she studied him, the way his body moved. Some of that was the nature of her job. She watched every athlete’s body, always looking for signs of injury, watching their body mechanics to see if she could correct anything they did that might point out a weakness. But with Garrett she found she simply enjoyed watching him . . . and his body.
She shook that thought away. “I sense hesitation. How long has it been since you’ve seen your friends?”
“I don’t know. Like I said. It’s been awhile.”
“Oh, you should definitely go. I love hanging out with my college friends.”
He snorted. “You’re a girl.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Girls like all that rehashing of the past. Guys . . . not so much. We move forward.”
“That’s such crap. Guys have shown up at our college get-togethers, and they have just as good a time as the women do. So, what’s holding you back?”
He didn’t answer. Then it hit her. “It’s your injury, isn’t it? You want to go back to your friends as a big success. And right now you feel like a failure.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “That’s not it. I told you, I forgot about it until just now, because I’ve been focusing on rehab.”
She didn’t believe him. “You’ve been a success. You
are
one. Look at your career.”
“That’s in the past.”
“Oh, please. Look at your accomplishments at such a young age. You’re a Cy Young Award winner. Come on. Don’t you want to celebrate that with your friends?”
“In sports you’re only as good as your current season.”
She wanted to smack him in the shoulder—the uninjured one, anyway. “That sounds like a line fed by media. You watch too many sportscasts. How many athletes do you know of who never even make it to the majors, who never get their shots to play the big games? You have, and you’ve
“Did you decorate the place yourself?”
“Huh?” he asked as he came in with their drinks then looked around as she motioned to the living area. “Oh. Hell, no. If it were up to me, there’d be like a folding table in here, and I’d be sitting on the floor. Some chick at the furniture store recommended a decorator, who took care of everything.”
“She did a good job. I guess I’m just surprised that you live in a nicely furnished house, you being a single guy and all. Most of the guys I know live in apartments or a condo.”
He laughed as he flopped onto the sofa next to her. “I like big spaces. I did my time in apartments. Too cramped for me.”
“Well, you’re a big guy. I could see why that wouldn’t work for you.”
“How about you?”
“An apartment. I’m not a big guy, so it suits my purposes.”
He gave her a long once-over, the kind that a man gave a woman he was definitely noticing. It made the room seem awfully warm. “No, you’re definitely not big . . . or a guy.”
She laughed. “No, I’m not. But I have lived with a big guy. And sharing a tiny bathroom with my brother growing up wasn’t fun. The apartment I live in now is like a castle by comparison.”
“College was like that for me. I shared a bathroom with three other guys. Not anything I ever want to do again.”
“I did that in college, too, though I shared a bathroom with about fifteen women.”
He made a face. “All those hair products.”
She laughed. “Hey, we managed. And how did you score a suite?”
“Athletic dorm. It wasn’t too bad.”
“No kidding. You got lucky. You went to college in Oklahoma, right?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back on the sofa with his drink. “In fact, there’s a get-together with some of the guys from my dorm coming up. Haven’t seen some of them in a while.”
“Are you going?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t thought much about it. Been focusing on the shoulder thing, you know.”
“You should go. It would be good for you to reconnect with your friends from college.”
“Maybe.” He took a long swallow of his drink, and she studied him, the way his body moved. Some of that was the nature of her job. She watched every athlete’s body, always looking for signs of injury, watching their body mechanics to see if she could correct anything they did that might point out a weakness. But with Garrett she found she simply enjoyed watching him . . . and his body.
She shook that thought away. “I sense hesitation. How long has it been since you’ve seen your friends?”
“I don’t know. Like I said. It’s been awhile.”
“Oh, you should definitely go. I love hanging out with my college friends.”
He snorted. “You’re a girl.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Girls like all that rehashing of the past. Guys . . . not so much. We move forward.”
“That’s such crap. Guys have shown up at our college get-togethers, and they have just as good a time as the women do. So, what’s holding you back?”
He didn’t answer. Then it hit her. “It’s your injury, isn’t it? You want to go back to your friends as a big success. And right now you feel like a failure.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “That’s not it. I told you, I forgot about it until just now, because I’ve been focusing on rehab.”
She didn’t believe him. “You’ve been a success. You
are
one. Look at your career.”
“That’s in the past.”
“Oh, please. Look at your accomplishments at such a young age. You’re a Cy Young Award winner. Come on. Don’t you want to celebrate that with your friends?”
“In sports you’re only as good as your current season.”
She wanted to smack him in the shoulder—the uninjured one, anyway. “That sounds like a line fed by media. You watch too many sportscasts. How many athletes do you know of who never even make it to the majors, who never get their shots to play the big games? You have, and you’ve
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