Angry, I switched the TV off, hurled the remote to the floor, and crossed my arms over my bare chest. If I heard one more person refer to me as that poor bastard, I was going to put my fucking fist through the wall.

I sat there scowling in the dark for a while, long enough for the thumping in the next room to start up again, as if to remind me that not only was I a washed-up has-been, I was a washed-up has-been who wasn’t having sex. Either way, more sleep was not happening.

Tossing the finger at the couple on the other side of the wall, I got out of bed. After throwing on some sweats, I yanked a ball cap onto my head, grabbed my wallet and keys, and stormed out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind me.

I did seven miles on the high school track. I dropped to the ground for push-ups, crunches, mountain climbers, planks. I ran the bleachers.

When I’d first arrived, it had been dark and cool, but now the sun was rising and the air had lost its chill—I was sweating hard, and it felt good to distract myself with physical exertion, to take out all my pent-up aggression on my muscles. But eventually my stomach started to growl, and I decided to call it quits. Maybe there was a diner open early, and I could sit unnoticed and grab some breakfast before cleaning up and heading out for that haircut my sister wanted me to get. Surely there was a barber somewhere in town who wouldn’t recognize me, right? I was jogging down from the stands, thinking maybe I’d have to drive a couple towns over, when I saw that I wasn’t alone.

A woman was power walking around the track. She wore black leggings and a white zip-up jacket, sunglasses and a ponytail. Her hair was long and reddish-brown, swinging from side to side as she moved. It reminded me of—

Wait a minute.

I stopped and stared as she looped around the near end of the track and started walking toward me—and that’s when I knew.

“April!” I shouted.

She looked up at me and stumbled a second later, going down hard on her hands and knees.

I jumped to the ground and sprinted toward her, reaching her side just as she was getting to her feet again.

“Hey,” I said, taking her by the elbow to help her up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just embarrassed.” She adjusted her sunglasses and looked up at me. “Tyler?”

I nodded, letting go of her arm.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m in town for Sadie’s wedding.” My heart was thumping uncomfortably hard in my chest—I’d yelled her name without being prepared to actually come face to face with her.

“Oh. Right.” She shook her head. “I knew that.”

I couldn’t read her expression. Christ, this was awkward.

“Well . . .” April fidgeted for a second or two, then surprised me by laughing. “This really is not how I thought this reunion would go.”

The sound of her laughter took me back to a different time. I relaxed slightly, widening my stance and folding my arms over my chest. I wished my shirt wasn’t so sweaty. “No?”

“No,” she said. “I thought it would be at Sadie’s wedding. I had planned to wash my hair, put on a dress or at least some real pants, maybe wear lipstick. At the very least, I was going to remain upright.”

I grinned. “I’m sorry if I scared you. You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. A little startled was all.” Then she opened her arms and gave me a smile, the one with the dimples that rolled time back even further. “So . . . hi.”

At first I was too shocked to react, but eventually I recovered my senses enough to put my arms around her. “Hi.”

She had to rise up on her toes to embrace me—I was a full foot taller than she was—and I leaned forward at the waist so she wouldn’t be pressed against my damp shirt, but damn, it felt good. So good I didn’t want to let her go right away. She even smelled nice—not exactly the same as she used to, but it reminded me of something warm and sweet, and it made me even hungrier. I allowed myself to hold her for a moment before stepping back.

“So how are you?” she asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest again. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“Pretty good.” As she spoke, she pulled her ponytail out and regathered her hair in her hands. “I’m usually alone here this early in the morning, so you surprised me. How was your workout?”

“I’m dragging a bit,” I admitted. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “Just restless, I guess.”

Her face was the same and yet different, more mature—sharper cheekbones, soft grooves on either side of her mouth—and yet still girlish, with its freckles and dimples. The dark lenses of her sunglasses covered her eyes, and for the life of me, I couldn’t recall what color they were. Blue? Brown?

As I watched her put her hair up again, a memory popped into my head—the night we’d had sex, I’d reached over and touched it. That was how the whole thing had gotten started, right? I’d put my hand in her hair and pulled her head toward mine. I hadn’t planned on making a move—that wasn’t the reason I’d taken a detour to the field that night—but in that moment, I’d been unable to hold back. I’d just wanted—needed—to be closer to her.

“Josh seems like a nice guy,” she said, breaking a silence that had grown a little awkward while I was staring at her. “Have you met him yet?”

“Yeah. Last night. I had dinner with Sadie and Josh after my flight got in.”

“How long are you in town?”

“Too long.” I sort of meant it as a joke, but the words came out with more bite than intended.

“Why do you say that?”

I shrugged and looked at my feet. “I just don’t like coming back here that much.”

She looked genuinely confused. “But this town loves you. People are still talking about you around here.”

My jaw clenched as I thought about rental car Steve and the kid at the restaurant last night. “Yeah. And I know what they’re saying.”

There was an awkward pause while she groped for a polite reply. “So what are you up to these days?” she tried. “I heard you, um, retired from baseball.”

“Retired? That’s a polite way to put it.” My words had a sharp edge to them—again, not exactly what I intended, but I hated that I was now an object of pity and scorn when I’d once been worshipped.

She looked confused. “Is there another way to put it?”

“How about I fell apart on the mound during what was arguably the most critical game of my career? How about I tanked my future in baseball because suddenly I couldn’t fucking remember how to throw strikes? How about I failed to prove I was as good as everybody said I was—how about I just fucking failed, period?”

“Tyler, come on. You didn’t fail. You just—”

“Look, I know what everybody around here thinks of me, okay? You don’t have to pretend.”

She stuck her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “I’m not pretending anything. And the only thing I’m thinking right now is something I’ll say right to your face—you’re being a real asshole.”