Ninth Inning Hearts
by @hushedinkwellWhen a sprained ankle lands Padres’ star pitcher Eddie Reyes in her ER, nurse Paula Mitchell has no idea she’s treating a two-time Cy Young winner—she just sees a kind-eyed guy with a military fade who makes her laugh between sutures. But as Eddie’s healing turns into something hotter, his nine-million-dollar contract year and her twelve-hour shifts threaten to tear them apart before they ever get a real chance.
MEET THE CHARACTERS
Eddie Reyes
A 24-year-old Filipino American starting pitcher for the San Diego Padres, standing 5'6" with a compact, athletic build that fills out his form-fitting tees. His military-style fade—number two on top, tight on the sides—and black-rimmed sport Oakley glasses give him a sharp, focused look whether he's on the mound or off. On the field he's all business, intimidating and precise; off it, he's got a kid's heart, kind and grounded, the kind of guy who still calls his mom after every start.
Paula Mitchell
A 22-year-old ER nurse at San Diego General, petite at 5'3" with an athletic build from her spare-time workouts. Her blond hair is usually pulled back in a practical ponytail, and her blue eyes are warm and observant—she notices small things, like the way a patient's hands shake or the flicker of pain behind a brave face. She's serious when she needs to be, but off-duty she's lighthearted and sweet, with a kid-at-heart laugh that fills a room.
Marcus 'Marc' Delgado
Eddie's teammate and closest friend on the Padres, a 28-year-old relief pitcher with a wiry build and a perpetual five-o'clock shadow. He's the clubhouse joker who keeps Eddie loose, but also the first to notice when Eddie's ankle is bothering him or when he's distracted. Off the field, he's a family man with a wife and two kids, and he treats Eddie like a younger brother.
Dr. Alan Pierce
The Padres' team physician, a 52-year-old orthopedic specialist with graying temples and a no-nonsense demeanor. He's seen too many athletes rush back from injuries and has zero patience for bravado. He respects Eddie's talent but cares more about his long-term health—and he's the one who insists Eddie get proper follow-up care at San Diego General, which is how Eddie and Paula's paths cross again.
Tita Cora
Eddie's aunt, runs the diner; warm, observant, speaks Tagalog with Eddie, approves of Paula, tells her to take care of him.
EXPLORE CHAPTERS
The Sprain
Eddie bites down on his mouthguard as the trainer's hands work his ankle, the roar of the crowd fading to a dull buzz in his ears. He's helped off the field, his weight on Marcus's shoulder, and by th
The Call
I'm at my car in the hospital lot, the folded scrap of paper in my palm, when my phone buzzes—a text from an unknown number: 'It's Eddie. I couldn't sleep. You still awake?' My thumb hovers, then type
The Doorstep
He's still looking at me like he's deciding something, and then he says, 'My mom's inside. She's been asking about you all week. If we go in now, it's a whole thing—breakfast, questions, the works.' H
The Lumpia Test
He leads her into a cramped diner with plastic tablecloths and a TV playing a Padres game, and the old woman behind the counter lights up when she sees him—'Eddie! You bring a girl!' He orders for the
The Long Version
I'm still holding his hand on the plastic tablecloth when he starts talking—the arbitration hearing, the front office's cold eyes, the way his dad's retirement made him feel like he had to prove every