Page 56 of The Way We Swing Back

“Where?”

“A small Division II school in Illinois.”

“Did you regret not playing Division I?”

“At the time I did,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “But I never took my rehab as seriously as you did. I didn’t invest in myself enough. But I realized quickly baseball wasn’t my future.”

“This was.”

“This is.”

“Coach said I’m probably going to get an offer soon to a DII school.”

“Easton! Congrats! That’s awesome!”

“I looked up the school on my way here. They have a PT program.”

Nate’s smile got wider as I tried to hold mine back. “You’ve given it some thought?”

“Kind of. I’m not positive it’s for me. But I like the idea of it.”

Nate sat back for a second, rocking in his chair. “You know I’m the owner here, right?”

“I kind of put that together when I found out your last name.”

“I could use an assistant. Someone to come in a couple of days a week to clean the mats and help me keep the bands organized—that kind of stuff. I could schedule you around your baseball games, and you could see if this is work you enjoy.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. One condition, though. Once you get your degree, if the MLB doesn’t come knocking, you consider coming to work for me.”

“Absolutely, Nate. Thank you.”

I walked to the Quinns’—err, my—home, my steps quicker than they had been yesterday.

I pulled out my phone and tapped on the name at the top of my contacts. It only took one ring for Tanner’s face to come across the screen.

“About time you called me back.”

A laugh overcame me. “I’ve sent you fifty texts since you came home.”

“And yet no calls. Interesting,” he said, a smile on his face. I’d missed seeing that smile, the way his nose scrunched up while his eyes made me feel like the most important person in the world.

“Guess what, though?”

He didn’t answer, just gave the Quinn smirk and shook his head.

“Coach Berrios said Central Missouri might want me to play for them next year. If I can get my grades up.”

“EASTON! Let’s fucking go, dude!”

“Kind of cool, right? Not DI but still something.”

“Who cares? Better than I did.”

“That’s because I’m better at baseball than you ever were.”

“Really? We’re going to go there?”