Free The Catching Kind by Caitie Quinn

everything. Most popular, best looking, homecoming king and queen. You broke it off when you went to college where you immediately fell in with the jocks and cheerleaders. You annoyed the heck out of your professors and tutors because they all realized how smart you were but you stayed focused on baseball. Not that you didn't do well. Bs were good enough for you. The occasional C wouldn't kill you. You've never been in a serious relationship. That isn't just because of the playboy thing. It's mostly because you know you're not in a place in your career and life to settle down so you don't want to get into something and blow it because that would be too much like losing—instead you get into lots of little things and then ease out of them. Politely.”
    I have no idea how I was suddenly sure about the last bit. Maybe it was because since we’d started tonight, I'd watched him treat everyone—no matter their job—with respect. Everyone who wasn’t forcing him into a deal he hadn’t made got nothing but consideration and respect. Maybe it was because I wanted to believe he was a nicer guy than the tabloids made him out to be. Whatever it was, I was pretty sure the playboy thing was a side benefit because he wasn't ready to settle down and not the reason he wasn't settling down.
    Or, at least I’d come to like him just enough to hope that was true.
    Connor took a long drink from his ice water before putting it down.
    "Not even close."
    "What?" The table closest to us looked my way. I'd been so sure I was on to something with some of my things. "That can't be true. I have to be close on some of it."
    "Okay, the family stuff was pretty right on. In high school I was...I grew four inches senior year and was still shorter than the average shortstop. I grew another five from freshman year of college into sophomore."
    I did some quick reverse math and came up with the only thing I could: Connor had been a runt.
    "College I was red shirted as a freshman—so I sat out the whole year. They were hoping I'd keep growing. Some of the coaches had no clue how I'd ended up on the team at my size. But my batting average...well, that college record still hasn't been broken. And I was great at fielding, quicker than I looked."
    Not at all what I expected. But I could see it. He'd talked about the scholarship and the drugs already. I could see him being a kid who went to college to go into business and accidentally grew into stardom. It seemed to almost make sense he'd accidentally become a baseball god.
    "And the rest?" I asked.
    He may have been open about his family and his ball playing, but he shut down as soon as I asked about the relationships.
    "Not everyone is built for the picket fence, Hailey."
    “I don’t even know what that means.”
    “It means people assume that young, successful athletes that date around are trying to fill a void. Being single is somehow the equivalent of filling up the hole in your heart with drugs or booze or some other adrenaline rush. But the thing is,” he leaned in, lowering his voice and I realized he was telling me exactly the truth as he saw it. “The thing is that some people are just happy. They’re not lonely being single. They’re not feeling the loss of a soul mate or that their house isn’t a home because they live in it alone. I like my life. I have a great life with lots of opportunities to do things I couldn’t do if I were married. Travel, sports, not worrying about getting traded. When this is done I’ll do things like rock climb and jump out of planes and other things I’d feel nervous about if someone was counting on me.” 
    He took a long drink of his water, studying me over it. Probably to ensure I was taking in what he was saying. 
    “Okay,” I said, because it seemed like what I should say.
    “I’m not saying,” he rushed on. “That marriage is bad. I just can’t imagine that being married to anyone, to be with someone forever, would make me happier than I am