So I was being a dickhead now, too, signaling pitches he would never go for. I could see Coach pacing the third baseline, and if we didn’t get it together, he’d bench us both.
I gestured to the umpire for a time-out and approached the mound, noticing that the rest of the team seemed on edge as well. Hollister threw Donovan a look from his position at first base, no doubt worrying we’d be duking it out in the locker room again after the game.
I lifted my glove to hide my expression from the other team. “What’s your problem?”
“What’s yours?” he countered, toeing the dirt.
I motioned toward home plate. “You’re not trusting my calls.”
“You’re not trusting my intuition.”
That stopped me cold as I flashed back to an earlier conversation between us.
“Why can’t you trust my instincts for a change? You’re a stubborn ass too.”
My shoulders slumped. I was tired, so tired of fighting him. This game was supposed to be fun, and at this point, what did we have to lose?
“You know what? Fine. You studied the stats as much as I did.”
I moved back behind home plate, nodding to Coach Crawford as I went. He’d allowed us to work it out on our own, and I appreciated that.
This time when I signaled the calls, it was pitches I had a feeling he’d accept. And as he wound up and threw three powerhouses in a row, striking the batter out and effectively ending the inning, I must admit I was stunned and impressed. His smirk said it all as we headed toward the dugout, but I also saw something else buried underneath—confidence and pride. Not the false smugness that colored his every interaction. This was more visceral and likely just what he needed, and maybe it would bleed into other areas of his life. A guy could dream.
“Nice job,” Coach said, clapping us both on the back.
“Aww, you two are like a match made in baseball heaven,” Devers quipped.
“More like an old married couple,” Fischer joked.
“You’re just jealous you don’t have a work husband.” Kellan batted his eyelashes in Donovan’s direction.
“I did have one,” Sinclair mused. “But he left me for another man.”
That got everyone laughing, and I knew without looking at him that Maclain was going to shut down because it was way too close to the truth.
But to my utter surprise, he clapped back at his former roommate. “If I knew you’d miss me so much, I would’ve spent more quality time with you.”
Devers snorted as he and Sinclair left the dugout to line up near the batter’s box to practice their swings.
Maclain wouldn’t look at me, though, and it was just as well. I needed to get my head back in the game, and he had set us up perfectly for another relief pitcher to close out the win.
That night we went to dinner in La Jolla, then walked along the beach, where we came across a wedding taking place under an arch of flowers in the sand. As the group grew quiet to watch, I blinked repeatedly when I realized the ceremony was between two men in tuxes with a female officiant.
“Look, it’s Kellan and Donovan in five years,” Devers teased as Donovan wound his arms around his boyfriend and kissed his head.
“It is pretty romantic,” Kellan mused, and I must’ve thought so, too, because I could not take my eyes off them. It just wasn’t in my wheelhouse when I thought about being with a guy, and who could blame me? This attraction thing was pretty new. As most of the team moved down the beach, including Maclain, I stayed for another minute, watching. And I could tell Maclain was having trouble shaking the visual too because he kept glancing toward the shore as the ceremony moved along.
“That what you see for yourselves someday?” I asked Donovan as we strolled past the ceremony to catch up with the others.
“Probably. Marriage isn’t for everyone, so that’s up to each couple to decide,” he said, and I hadn’t heard it put quite that way before. Plenty of people focused on having that type of ceremony as the gold standard, but really, it was about the commitment, and thus far, I’d never felt strongly enough about someone to give it much thought.
Later that night, as I stared at the dark ceiling, I thought about the men on the beach again and realized that no matter who I ended up falling in love with, I would want something like that. I would want to stand proudly beside them and make a commitment to them for better or worse.
I kept tossing and turning until I landed on my back with my underwear off and my hand on my dick as I considered jerking off. Maybe that would help release this pent-up frustration for the man who was already tucked beneath his covers by the time I got to the room. He obviously wasn’t wrestling with the same shit I was.
Why did he have to be so hot and cold all the time? Though he did warn me. I must’ve growled a bit too loudly because next thing I knew, Maclain was stirring in his sheets.
“Girard?” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Shit, sorry I woke you,” I muttered.
“S’okay…I tried to wait up, but I was so tired,” he said around a yawn.
“You were waiting up for me?” I stiffened. “Why?”
He rolled to his side to face me. “I wanted to talk.”
My stomach tightened. “About what?”
“About…well, mostly about last night,” he said hesitantly. “Why did you leave like that?”
So I was right. That had bothered him. He could’ve asked me to stay, or hell, anything else besides making me play goddamned guessing games.
“Honest truth?” I tried to temper my tone. “I didn’t want to see the regret in your eyes.”
He scoffed. “Do you have regrets?”
“No, fuck no. I enjoyed what happened last night, and I want to do it all over again.” I stabbed at the air. “It’s you who’s always… You know what? Never mind.”
“God, Girard.” I could hear his harsh breaths as he sat up and threw the covers off him. “I don’t want to be like this, so conflicted, and I also don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want you to hate me after…after we’re done with this, whatever this is. Don’t quote me, but I sort of like having you as a friend.”
Holy shit, now this was an actual heart-to-heart, and I was ready for it. I’d wanted him to be more open and truthful all along.
“Um, what? So we’re, like, real friends?” I quipped. “Call the presses.”
“I know. It’s wild that you’ve somehow grown on me.”
“It’s not wild. I’m a lovable person.” I snickered a little, enjoying our back-and-forth. “And I wouldn’t hate you, not any more than I already do.”
He snorted out a laugh, then tried to take it back, then cracked up some more, and fuck if it wasn’t infectious. I couldn’t see him clearly, but just hearing the sound of joy coming from him made my shoulders start shaking with amusement too. And before we knew it, it had turned into that deep, belly-aching laughter that was difficult to break. Once one of us got going again, the other would follow.
Maclain threw his arm over his head. “Why the fuck are we laughing?”
“I dunno. You started it.” I took gulping breaths. “But Christ, it feels good.”