“Oh, hell no!” the ballplayer burst out, panic tightening his face.

She took a step back. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“You don’t understand. My manager or the GM sees me with a cast and I’m gonna be benched. Maybe for the season. They have me on a short leash.”

“If you broke your ankle, you couldn’t play anyway, could you?”

He put his head into his hands. “This can’t be happening. If I can’t keep up with children, how am I going to play the Red Sox?”

She tried to comfort him, saying stiffly, “I know it seems bad, but you’ll be okay. It’ll work out.” He didn’t answer. She dragged over a stool and sat in front of him. Gathering her courage, she grasped his calf and brought his foot into her lap. Without looking up or saying a word, she wrapped his ankle, first layering on the foam. Her fingertips brushed against his skin, again and again, making it impossible to forget kissing him the day before—or the mortifying rejection.

“You’re very gentle, thank you.”

“Of course.” Applying the Ace bandage, she dared to glance up at him briefly. “I’m sorry my son and his team did this to you.” And I am so sorry I kissed you.

She dropped her eyes back to his ankle, but Duke said, “No way was it those kids’ fault. They was just playin’.”

She attached the end of the wrap with the Velcro tab and then ran her hands over it to make sure it was secure. The hard muscle of his calf was distracting. “Um, I hope I didn’t wrap this too high or tight.”

“It’s fine.” He wiggled his toes, not moving his foot from her lap. “I had fun yesterday. But it was stupid of me to run around like that.”

There was a knock on the door, and then a strange man’s voice floated in through the half-open door. “Duke?”

“Aaron?”

The door popped all the way open. A wild-eyed man in a business suit stomped into the room. It was the driver from the park the day before. “Dude!”

“What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

“The press.”

Duke awkwardly removed his foot and tried to stand up, but almost lost his balance. “What?”

“There’s a gaggle of them outside. Someone recognized you and called the paparazzi. You’re already trending, man. TMZ tweeted out ‘The Bronx Bolts pitcher is at a medical urgent care!’ and now the internet is blowing up.” He stared at Duke’s wrapped ankle. “How bad?”

“I’m just faking it. I’m really here to see Angel. Stop worrying. It’s nothing.”

Angel froze.

“The woman who kissed you yesterday?” The agent finally noticed her trying to be invisible along the back wall. “Yeah. Duke, that is brilliant!”

“No!”