Read High Heat (Hard Hitters #1) for Free Online Page B

I’ll be in Chicago before you know it.”
    “You kicked ass in your first start, that’s for sure. Like you’d never been away. How’s the elbow feeling?”
    “Good.” Even if it wasn’t good, he’d die before he’d admit it. Playing against type, he’d followed every doctor’s order, every trainer’s recommendation, been a good boy for a year and a half of rehab, all while thinking every day about the moment he’d set foot on a major-league mound again. Nothing would dissuade him from making that sooner rather than later, especially not some nagging little twinge in his elbow.
    Every pitcher dealt with pain. If he couldn’t, his career didn’t last very long.
    The conversation moved on, and they reminisced about their college days, talking about guys they’d both come up with and discussing the pennant races in the majors this year.
    “Who do you like in the American League?” Paul said.
    “The White Sox, once I get on the roster.”
    Paul laughed. “You don’t lack for confidence, that’s for damn sure.”
    “No one wants a starting pitcher who doesn’t believe he can get it done. Who wants a loser?” It was true of baseball as well as life.
    “True.” Paul finished his beer and watched the screen in silence for a while. He nodded at the TV. “My favorite episode is the one where they wander around in the parking garage because they can’t find their car.”
    “Yeah, that’s a good one.” He liked the show, but he doubted Paul had braved his girlfriend’s wrath to discuss
Seinfeld
reruns.
    Maybe he ought to cast his bait and see if he got a nibble. “Sarah tells me your girlfriend thinks I’m going to lead you astray.”
    Paul laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, Susan is a little . . . paranoid about this stuff. She thinks I’m some kind of awesome catch. It’s a small town. It’s not exactly a dating paradise.”
    “Obviously not, dude, if she thinks you’re a catch.” Paul flipped him off and Tom laughed. Just like old times.
    “You talk to Sarah much?” Paul asked, way too casually.
    Ah-ha. So that was what this little visit was about.
    Tom shrugged, leaning forward to grab another beer. “Sometimes. She’s my housemate, after all.” Paul scowled, a protective gesture that nearly made Tom laugh aloud. “Dude, calm down. We share the same duplex, that’s all. We’re not shacking up.”
    “Of course not. Sarah would never shack up with you.”
    Tom scratched at the loose corner of his beer label with his thumbnail. “If it weren’t for my amazing self-confidence, I might think you’re insulting me.”
    “Please. She’s too classy for you. I know you, man. I remember the girls you dated in college. Probably better than you do. God knows you barely seemed able to keep ’em straight half the time.”
    “Yeah, well, I don’t remember you living the life of a monk either. You did okay with girls too.”
    “That was a long time ago, for me.” He looked at Tom steadily. “I had to grow up and settle down. I got a real job.”
    Real job? Tom set his beer down with a clunk. “Come on.” What the hell did Paul know about making it on his own? He’d inherited his job from his father, and his biggest qualification for beating Sarah out for the job had apparently been having a dick. Tom had worked his ass off for everything he had. “I got a real job too. Doing pretty well. Maybe you heard about it. I sold my South Beach condo and bought a Gold Coast penthouse when the White Sox signed me in the off-season. You ought to see it. Lake Michigan is beautiful with all the lights at night.”
    “Settle down, Tom. No one questions your earning power, or your will to win. You’re a damn good pitcher, and in many ways a great guy.”
    Oh, here we go.
“In many ways” he was a great guy, but apparently not in the ways that qualified him to date Paul’s sister. Did he even know this guy anymore? Paul truly belonged in a baseball front office. This was all the kind of BS an