The Art of Catching Feelings - Softcover

Thompson, Alicia

 
9780593640937: The Art of Catching Feelings
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593640934 ISBN 13: 9780593640937
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

A professional baseball player and his heckler prove that true love is worth going to bat for in the next swoony romance by USA Today bestselling author Alicia Thompson.

Daphne Brink doesn’t follow baseball, but watching “America’s Snoozefest” certainly beats sitting at home in the days after she signs her divorce papers. After one too many ballpark beers, she heckles Carolina Battery player Chris Kepler, who quickly proves there might actually be a little crying in baseball. Horrified, Daphne reaches out to Chris on social media to apologize . . . but forgets to identify herself as his heckler in her message.

Chris doesn’t usually respond to random fans on social media, but he’s grieving and fragile after an emotionally turbulent few months. When a DM from “Duckie” catches his eye, he impulsively messages back. Duckie is sweet, funny, and seems to understand him in a way no one else does.

Daphne isn’t sure how much longer she can keep lying to Chris, especially as she starts working with the team in real life and their feelings for each other deepen. When he finds out the truth, will it be three strikes, she’s out?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Alicia Thompson is a writer, reader, and lover of baseball. She has never caught a foul ball but she was once two seats down from a Jumbotron proposal and that has to count for something. She’s currently taking in home games in sunny Central Florida with her husband, two children, and a cat named Luna who has yet to hit for the cycle (aka has not escaped out of every door in a single day, although with the numbers she’s been putting up . . .)

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

One

The crowd erupted in a shout-obviously, something was happening-but Daphne didn't bother to look up as she turned a page in her book. She hadn't meant to read at the baseball game, but she had a book in her purse and her best friend Kim was running late, so . . . here she was.

Not that the words were sinking in. She'd read the same paragraph three times, and still her brain pounded with the same two words over and over.

I'm divorced I'm divorced I'm divorced

She was about to put the book away-there was no point-when the people next to her stood up, allowing Kim to make her way down the aisle. "Sorry," Kim said cheerfully to each one of them. "Excuse me, sorry." When she got to the empty seat next to Daphne, she plopped down and said, "Are you reading during America's Pastime?"

"More like America's Snoozefest," Daphne said, slipping the book back into her bag. "A guy throws a ball, another guy tries to hit it, and if they connect there's running involved. Beyond that, who knows."

"Well, that's sacrilege, especially since we have these sick seats. Layla hooked you up."

Daphne shrugged. Her sister-in-law Layla was the sideline reporter for the Carolina Battery, and her brother Donovan worked in Guest Services for the team. He acted like he was in the dugout from the way he carried on about all the perks their connection to the team got them. Daphne had never taken Layla up on an offer for tickets before, and she wouldn't have this time, either, if it hadn't been for extenuating circumstances involving her husband.

ex-husband ex-husband ex-husband

"Technically, your ticket was Justin's."

Kim pulled a face at the mention of Daphne's ex. "How was that even going to work?"

The goateed man on the other side of Daphne stood up so fast he jostled her elbow, muttering something about couldn't fucking catch a cold out there. She glanced toward the field, briefly curious about whatever had happened to upset this fan so much. The pitcher was getting set to throw again, the batter was still standing with his bat, and everyone else was standing where they'd been the whole game. She could feel the tension from the crowd hanging heavy in the humid Charleston air, but out there it looked placid as a lake.

A metaphor for her short-lived marriage, if ever there was one.

"You know Donovan," she said, trying to give a wry smile that she hoped didn't look as painful as it felt. "Justin's his best friend. He can't believe we're not going to work it out. So he gave us each a ticket to today's game, I guess hoping we'd somehow make up in time to go? Or just show up and find our way back to each other by the end, like we're in Parent Trap and he's Lindsay Lohan?"

"Your brother has the hair and freckles to be Lindsay, but not the gravitas."

This time, Daphne's smile was more natural. Unlike Donovan, her hair had turned more auburn as she'd gotten older, but Kim had a point about her family's coloring. Freckles had been her nemesis since she was in second grade.

"So when I saw Justin on Friday, he told me to forward my ticket to him." If he'd asked, she probably would've done it. She might've daydreamed about setting every single one of his Salt Life shirts on fire, but her spite didn't extend to subjecting herself to baseball just to cheat him out of the experience.

"But you didn't." Kim's eyes were glittering, like she knew things were about to get good.

Daphne was kind of proud of herself for this one, actually. "Nope. I said we could play rock paper scissors for them, best two out of three. He threw rock twice in a row. And I threw paper."

You're so predictable, he'd said after the first time. I know you.

But he didn't. He never had.

Meanwhile, she knew him. He always threw rock on the first turn-she suspected because he was busy thinking what to throw, and didn't get his hand out of a fist in time. And he always repeated on the second turn, trying to outbluff your bluff.

"And then I had his lawyer write it into the divorce agreement-Simultaneously herewith, Husband will transfer one (1) Carolina Battery ticket in his possession to Wife. We had to initial the change and everything."

Kim pressed her hand over her heart. "Well, I'm honored you chose me to take that douchebag's place." Her eyes widened as she seemed to take in the full import of Daphne's story. "Wait-you saw him and his lawyer? So does that mean . . . ?"

"It's official."

It was rare to see her best friend speechless, but Daphne could tell that she didn't quite know how to react. Knowing Kim, her instinct would be to give Daphne a fierce hug, to start scream-singing "freedom" through the stadium like she was Aretha, to list all the ways Justin could go fuck himself. But her friend must've also seen something in Daphne's face, something fragile that said I'm very close to losing it so please be careful with me.

They were still locked in that stalemate when the guy next to Daphne shot to his feet, beer sloshing out of the bottle he still gripped in one hand while he used the other to gesture toward the field. "That throw was a mile high! Get him outta there!"

Daphne glanced at the action, such as it was, but she still couldn't tell what was happening. The guys in gray outfits were standing on the bases again? It looked like there might be more of them?

"What are you going to do now?" Kim asked.

She knew that Kim's question was mostly about logistics. Was Daphne going to be able to move out of the crappy studio unit she was living in? (No-he'd been the one to stay in the house they'd rented together. She couldn't afford it.) Was she going to start looking for a full-time job since her freelance copywriting work was so sporadic lately? (She was trying.) Was she ready to start dating again? (Oof. She couldn't even let herself think about that one.)

Strands of Daphne's curly hair were sticking to her cheeks, and she automatically reached for the hair-tie she usually kept looped around her wrist. But it wasn't there, and even though there could be any number of rational explanations why-she'd left it on the bathroom counter! it somehow snapped without her noticing!-it felt like just one more thing that wasn't right. She didn't want to think about her divorce, or the bleak ocean of her future disappearing into the horizon. She didn't want to think at all.

"I want to get really, really drunk," she said.

Kim quirked an eyebrow at her. "Well," she said. "That's one way to enjoy a baseball game."


Several beers later-three? four? They were local craft-brewed IPAs flavored with raspberry and vanilla and were surprisingly smooth-Daphne was in a much better mood. So what if her life was stalled out? The sun was shining and she was at a baseball game with her best friend, making more friends by the minute.

The older goateed guy next to her, for example. It turned out she didn't need to understand the game-just mimic his reactions. Soon they were high-fiving when the Battery scored a run, or he'd slap the netting in front of them and say, "You've got to be kidding me!" and she'd say, "I know, right?" and shake her head. Kim had limited herself to one beer-someone had to be sober to drive them home-and observed this new dynamic with amused indulgence.

"You're really getting into this, huh?" she said at one point. Daphne took another gulp of her beer before letting out a loud boo with the rest of the crowd.

"Come on, play the game!" she yelled. She was proud of herself for having figured this one out. Whenever the opposing pitcher threw over to first base instead of making another pitch, the entire crowd reacted, and the guy next to her would throw up his hands and say something similar to what she was now shouting herself. Only usually with more colorful...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2024
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593640934
ISBN 13 
9780593640937
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
384
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
gpsr@libri.de
gpsr@libri.de

Friedensallee 273
Hamburg
22763
Deutschland

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Softcover