“Oh, yeah,” he answered, a grin spreading across his face. And he was. God, he loved baseball. Had lived and breathed it most of his life, starting with T-ball when he was young. The moment he’d put a glove on his hand, he had been hooked.
Caleb squinted against the sun and glanced at the stands. He couldn’t wait to hear the roar of the crowd when the team scored their first run. It was thrilling.
He and Coach chatted for a minute while players took their positions, and he took a second to glance at the press box again. No luck, though; he wasn’t close enough to see anything.
“Jason Brick takes the mound, folks. At bat for the Lions is number two, Juan Mavis.”
That little shiver ran down his spine again. Damn, had a voice ever caused a reaction like this?
Mavis? Caleb took his position and eyed the batter. Fuck. He knew he recognized that name.
Flashes of heated skin and roving hands exploded into his memory, and he felt the blood drain from his face. Last year, Caleb had hooked up with Mavis after meeting him in a bar. Not just hooked up, they’d actually fucked in the damn bar. They’d disappeared into the back, dimly lit hall, found a dark corner, and made out like high schoolers until they couldn’t wait any longer. He’d flipped Juan around, pressing him flat against the wall, and as soon as they had both unzipped, and Caleb had rolled on the condom, he’d buried himself balls-deep in that man. It had been hot. And dirty. And fast. But it had been exactly what he’d needed that night. Now, his dick twitched at the memory and he berated himself. Not now!
His gaze darted around the field as his heartbeat picked up. Would Juan out him? Was he even out himself? Shit. The night of their hook-up, Caleb had known Mavis played baseball, too, but he’d thought Juan was on a farm team. When had he been sent to the Lions? This could go bad with both of them playing in the Triple-A leagues.
The crack of the bat blasted into the air and Caleb jerked back to the present.
“It’s up and it’s going…going…and the Rabbits’ Brandon Hawk in the outfield is making a run for it.”
Caleb turned toward Brandon and prayed the man would catch it. The ball spun through the air, arcing toward his teammate’s outstretched glove. Caleb held his breath as the ball hit the tip of Brandon’s glove and bounced off. Brandon struggled to reach and dived toward it, but it was too late. The ball hit the ground, rolling in the opposite direction. Another teammate, Howe, scooped it up and threw it to the first baseman. Juan dove head first toward the base, sliding on his side, dirt rising in clouds around him, and touching the base about a half-second before the ball reached the player’s glove.
“And Juan Mavis has made the season’s first base hit, ladies and gentlemen!”
Caleb glanced at Brandon and nodded when their eyes met. Brandon frowned and Caleb shook his head, trying to signal to him to shake it off.
Unfortunately for the Rabbits, Juan’s base hit set the tone for the rest of the inning. Soon, bases were loaded and Juan was on third. Close enough to touch. Caleb kept an eye on him, his heart thundering in his ears the whole time, but so far he hadn’t noticed even a flicker of recognition in Juan’s eyes. Caleb hated that his mind kept going to that night at the bar as he watched Juan’s muscles flex under his tight uniform. He needed to keep his mind on the game, not Juan’s ass.
The next at-bat hit a grand slam, giving the Lions four runs. Juan raced off without ever looking him in the eye, and Caleb breathed a deep sigh of relief.
The inning crawled along. Just as it seemed it would never end, Caleb caught a fly ball, giving the Lions their third out. The Rabbits were finally up to bat.
Caleb ran to the dugout and grabbed some water before settling on the bench beside a frowning Brandon.
“Hey, don’t sweat it, man. The game has just started. We have plenty of time to overtake them,” Calebassured as he clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, dude,” another player added, “just shake it off and go forward.”
They watched as their first hitter went up to bat and Caleb smiled when it turned into a base hit. That’s right…we got this.
With the dugout full of sweaty men, Caleb fought the urge to inhale deeply. God, he loved the scent of a hot man—musk and testosterone and heat all rolled into one was like an aphrodisiac he had to fight. None of his teammates knew he was gay, and if he had any hope of ever going to the Show, he had to keep that secret to himself.