Page 9 of Heat Advisory

Hopefully, we would have met up a few times—or maybe a dozen—before that, so maybe I could convince her to be my unofficial plus one. Everything was finally coming together for my timeline to make Cora mine.

She sighed almost in relief. “Thank God.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, almost offended.

“Dude, I don’t know about your personal life lately, mostly because I don’t care who you date, but you had some serious bimbos attached to your arm whenever you had big events when you played ball in Texas. I know they supposedly grow ’em big in Texas, but those women took that to heart with their big hair, big boobs, and big attitudes with delusions of grandeur.”

She was right, but there was part of me that still felt I had to defend myself and reputation, which was the only reason I let slip from my mouth what I did. “I’ll have you know the only woman I am meeting up with anytime soon is actually Cora.”

My eyes closed as soon as I said it. I winced as I heard her shocked gasp follow.

“Cora? As in my Cora?” Her voice was a mix of hope, excitement, and then confusion. “Why?”

I wasn’t ready to tell her my plans about getting Cora to go out on a date with me just yet, so I gave her a half-truth for now. “She’s going with me to pick out my suit on Monday. I figured since she’s been helping you plan this whole thing, she could help me out, too.”

“Oh, that’s actually a good idea.” I heard Morgan’s relieved sigh, which was a bit of a blow to my confidence that she didn’t think I could handle picking out something as simple as a suit. “Plus, it’s a tux, not a suit. This is a formal wedding, bro.”

“That’s what I meant,” I told her.

She chuckled back. “Sure. So…” she said slowly. “Should I be worried?”

“About what?” I feigned ignorance.

“You suddenly caring deeply about formalwear—and my best friend.” The sarcasm was apparent in her voice, which only made me want to tease her more.

I smiled to myself. “I care about all the things you care about too—it’s what makes me the world’s greatest brother.”

“Uh-huh.” The sarcasm was clear in her voice. “Just remember. This is my wedding.”

“I know that.”

“And Cora is my maid of honor.”

“Also know that, too.”

“And if you do anything stupid, like kiss her or break her heart⁠—”

If she only knew.

“Morgan…again…greatest brother in the world here. You don’t have to worry.”

“Famous last words,” she grumbled under her breath, but I could also hear the smile in her voice.

After teasing her a little more, we hung up. I found myself smiling just thinking about meeting up with Cora. Just saying her name out loud felt like stepping into something real—something I hadn’t let myself have for years.

I knew deep down I wasn’t just trying to win her over. I was trying to become someone worthy of her. Her support for me, even back when we were in high school, was front and center in my thoughts.

After baseball, I’d seen a therapist. Another teammate had recommended the guy. He specialized in professional athletes whose careers ended abruptly—especially not by choice. Baseball had been my entire life. I had given up a lot for it.

I was the kid who missed prom because he was meeting with recruits. The kid who was one of the last in my class to get his driver’s license because he was too busy training. The kid—and man—who let baseball be his whole identity. I also rarely went out on dates in high school—and after—because I traveled too much with the teams.

That kid was getting his second chance.

Everything was finally coming together—not just to make Cora mine, but to become a man she’d want to keep.

4

“Bad rainbows go to prism. It’s a light sentence, so they can have some time to reflect.”