We tried to play it cool and casual at first, but it was impossible. Phoenix was insatiable. We both were. We couldn’t get enough of each other’s time, attention, or bodies. We used lame excuses to be together, but we both knew he didn’t need my help reading lines any more than I needed help studying for English Lit. What we really wanted was to get naked and horizontal as quickly as possible. In the weeks after our yogurt date, we secretly became inseparable.
We texted throughout the day and met at my apartment almost every night. I’m not gonna lie…we immediately came together, wrapping around each other like a couple of octopi with twisting tongues and roving hands. I hid a supply of condoms and lube in strategic places throughout the apartment, so we weren’t forced to stop the action when he begged me to fuck him on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, or in the shower. But when we were limp and lifeless after a spine-tingling orgasm or two, neither of us was in a hurry to move on. We cleaned up and either redressed and hung out on the sofa with our feet tangled, watching TV or studying. Or we jumped into bed and just talked.
Maybe part of our connection was rooted in loneliness. Phoenix hadn’t lived in California for long, and he didn’t know many people. And though I had a lot of friends, only one of them really knew me. But the truth was…I liked being with him. He was easy company with a great sense of humor. He laughed all the damn time. There was something about the melodic sound and his twinkling eyes that got to me.
When I wasn’t with him, I thought about him. Nonstop. And that wasn’t like me at all. I usually had an uncanny ability to block out excess noise…especially when I was on the field. It was a good thing too, because we weren’t playing well as a team. Every game felt like a slog. We lost too often and when we won, it was usually due to a last-minute save that had more to do with luck than skill.
Today was a good example. I was one of the only players who had a decent game. I hit a double and triple and batted two runners in, one of which tied the score and put us into extra innings. We eventually won, but Coach Glenn didn’t seem happy. He didn’t say anything overtly negative, but he looked directly at me when he made a barbed comment about our lack of concentration and chemistry before walking out of the locker room. I actually looked over my shoulder to see if he was talking to someone else.
Javi squeezed my shoulder, then sat on the bench to pull off his cleats. “Don’t mind him, man. You saved our asses again. Glenn knows it. He’s just used to us being rock stars like last year.”
“Whatever. We’re doing okay. I’m not gonna worry about it,” I huffed dismissively.
“Hey, at least he didn’t switch your position out of the fuckin’ blue,” Micah griped as he opened his locker.
“You’re a good outfielder too. What do you care?” I countered.
“I don’t. But most coaches switch up pitching when things aren’t gelling. Moving me to center field isn’t gonna change anything,” he said.
Micah was right, but he was also looking for someone else to blame. I wasn’t going to participate in a nowhere conversation. I turned away just as Minsky piped in.
“What he’s trying to say is our chemistry sucks. We need to do some team bonding. It’s March now and the weather’s warmer. We could have a barbeque or a pool party or go bowling or something and spend some time together off the field too. We should be there for each other, you know? Even carpooling to practice and local games might make a difference.”
Javi and I shared an eye roll at Minsky’s syrupy tone. He was famous for oversimplifying matters with homespun “Can we all just get along?” suggestions.
“Hey, I was gonna ask Maldonado for a ride to the game today, but I didn’t want to interrupt his date,” Micah paused before adding, “…with his new boyfriend.”
My heartbeat skittered to a sudden stop. I furrowed my brow. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw you at the Starbucks on campus with the gay dude from my philosophy class. And you were sittin’ awfully close. Just sayin’.”
Micah’s teasing cadence allowed me room to make a joke and move on easily. This kind of talk was basic locker room BS. But I didn’t trust him. At all. And I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed him at the coffee shop earlier. I’d given Phoenix a ride to school after an epic bathroom session that started in the shower and ended with him bent over the sink with one leg hiked on the counter, begging me to fuck him…harder, faster, deeper. I held on to his shoulders for purchase when I came and met his cocky grin in the mirror with an exhausted one. We showered again before falling into bed. We lay naked in each other’s arms and just talked.
At some point, we dozed off. Phoenix woke up in a panic. He was going to be late to class and there was just enough time to grab his books from his place first. When I told him I’d drive him, he nodded gratefully and told me that if anyone saw us together, we could say I was with Sunny and had offered a ride out of the goodness of my heart. Or something like that. I rolled my eyes and told him to hop in the car. Just as I parked in the lot next to Granding Theater, his phone buzzed.
“Class was canceled.” Phoenix shot an apologetic glance my way. “Sorry. Braden says the professor had an unexpected emergency. He wants to know if I want to grab something to eat instead and—”
“What? No,” I snapped. “I’ll buy you coffee. I have forty-five minutes before I have to leave for my game. Let’s go.”
“Max.” He pulled my sleeve and waited for me to meet his gaze. “Braden and I are only friends. There’s no reason to be jeal—”
“I am not jealous. I don’t do jealous. I just want to buy you a fuckin’ cup of coffee, all right?”
He pursed his lips to hide a grin. “What if I don’t want a fuckin’ cup of coffee?”
I sighed in mock exasperation. “What do you want?”
“I want a fuckin’ cup of tea.”
“Fine. But I’m buying you a fuckin’ croissant too.”
Phoenix’s smile was pure sunshine. I basked in it for a moment, then squeezed his hand before getting out of the car. And no, I didn’t check to see if anyone noticed us…and yes, I probably walked a little too close to him, but I didn’t care. Every time his shoulders or fingers accidentally brushed mine, I felt a tingle of awareness. It wasn’t sexual, though. We’d had sex twice in the past two hours. I didn’t think I could get it up again quite yet. No, this was different.
He wasn’t talking about sucking me off now. He was talking about the script for Chicago and asking if I’d help him with his lines and I should have said, “What the fuck?” because theater stuff wasn’t my thing. But Phoenix was. And if I stopped to analyze the feeling, I knew I’d freak myself out. So I pushed any lingering doubt aside as I held the door open for him and figured if anyone noticed us, I’d deal with them later.
Of course it had to be Micah.
The less I said, the better. I flipped him off as I untied my cleat.
“What gay guy?” Javi asked.
Suddenly all eyes were on me. I don’t think anyone cared who I had coffee with. This was a silly detour to reset the mood in the locker room and lift our spirits…at my expense. I didn’t like where this was going, though.
“Sunny’s brother,” I said in a flat voice.
“Oh, yeah.” Javi nodded in approval. “Nice work. Get tight with the siblings. Especially twins. How’s it going with her? You haven’t said anything, so I figured I should shut up.”
“It’s fine,” I lied.
Javi held his hand out for a high five. He didn’t seem to care when I ignored him. “We should get together, man. Sarah said…”
When someone made a crack about Javi being practically married to his girlfriend, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a slow news day in the locker room when the last story to break seemed like the most interesting…for thirty seconds or less. My best bet was to keep my head down and get the fuck outta there.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t my lucky day. Coach called my name just as I stepped out of the locker room.
“Decent win, Maldonado.”
I groaned internally and pasted a smile on my face. “Um, thanks. I know we could be doing better, but—”
“We’re missing something.”
“Maybe it’s just taking a little longer to get into a groove, but we’ll get there.”
Coach Glenn was friendly…ish, but he was mostly intimidating. He was a fit, good-looking man in his mid-fifties with short, dark hair and green eyes. He’d played center field for the Padres in the eighties. He got called up to the big league a couple of times but when a hamstring injury sidelined his career, he became a coach. He’d been the head baseball coach at Chilton for ten years and had a stellar reputation. He’d taken us to the championships every year that I’d played. This was the first year we were questionable, and I’d bet anything he was about to infer that I was somehow responsible.
“Hmm. I’ll keep this as brief as possible. Something’s different with you, Maldonado, and I can’t put my finger on it. You’re playing at the top of your game. You hit home runs at will, your arm is more powerful than ever, and you cover your position better than most of your teammates can handle theirs.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He narrowed his gaze until his eyes looked like dark, beady marbles. “That’s what I’m asking you. You’re a vital part of the team, but you’re not engaging the way I’ve seen you in the past. I always thought of you as a leader, but you’re not leading. You’re doing your job and going home. You seem perfectly happy, so I’m going to assume there’s something personal going on with a girl or—”
“No.”
Coach observed me through hooded eyelids. “Okay. But the chemistry is off, and the only real change that I can detect is shortstop. I’ve mixed things up and the results are slightly better, but we aren’t as good without Jameson. So I gotta ask you…did something happen between you two?”
Oh. Fuck. I swallowed around the desert in my mouth and wondered how to reply. The short answer was yes, Sky Jameson was my boyfriend and he left me. The longer answer was way more information than Coach needed. So I lied.
“No. Why?”
“I want to get Jameson back.”
“Oh.” Gulp. “How?”
“Not sure. I don’t know if it’s possible to add him this far into the season, but I’m gonna see what I can do ’cause we could sure use the help.” Coach patted my back and stepped aside. “Have a good night, Maldonado.”
Fuck. Me. I swiped my hand over my jaw and barely resisted the urge to punch the brick wall. This could not be happening.
* * *
We didn’t have practice the following afternoon and I was very glad. I rarely said so, but I needed a break from baseball. Or maybe just from my teammates. Coach was right. Our chemistry was off. I thought about ways to improve it that didn’t involve Sky, but I came up blank. Maybe Minsky had the right idea. Everyone liked bowling and barbeques.
“Couldn’t hurt,” Christian agreed when I filled him in on the postgame discussion. “I wouldn’t worry about Sky. It’s too late for him to transfer back. There’s gotta be league rules about that kind of stuff.”
“Coach is a genius at pulling favors and making shit happen. I thought Micah was annoying, but he’s just a pest. Sky is a fucking nightmare.”
“Hey, relax. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Don’t worry about Sky. And guys like Micah are on every squad. Jonesie is ours on the football team. He’s a great guy but he can be a loose cannon. Especially when he’s mad at himself. I bet Micah will snap out of it once his game improves.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not just his game. He thinks I’m seeing a girl he likes.”
“Who?” Christian asked as he twisted the cap off his water bottle and sank into a corner of the sofa before setting his feet on the coffee table.
We’d gone to the gym together earlier…something we still did a couple of times a week. But usually, he was quick to shower and then get on the road to Long Beach to hang out at Rory’s. He looked like he was settling in for the night. Not okay.
“Phoenix’s twin sister.”
“Where did he come up with that?”
“Javi and circumstantial evidence I can’t refute without making things weird,” I said.
“ ‘Refute.’ That’s a good word,” he teased, reaching for the Xbox controller.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go?”
Christian cocked his head and frowned. “Go where?”
“To Rory’s.” I twisted my wrist to read a new message when my smartwatch buzzed. “If you go now, you’ll miss traffic.”
He barked a quick laugh and dropped the controller before shifting to get a better look at me. “No, I’ll sit in a fuckton of traffic. I was going to wait an hour.”
“An hour?”
“I thought you wanted to catch up on Call of Duty.”
“Not tonight.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “I’m…busy.”
“Hmm. I see.” He stood, then skirted the sofa, pausing when someone knocked on our door. He winked mischievously. “Looks like I’ll get to meet him.”
“You already met him,” I reminded him.
“That was months ago,” he huffed. “We’re talking about Phoenix, right?”
“Right.”
“Good. I like him for you.”
“Why? You don’t know him.” I sounded like a stubborn kid even to my own ears.
“No, but I can tell you’re happy. It looks good on you. Kinda cute,” he teased.
“Fuck cute. Don’t you have someplace to be?”
Christian gave me a maniacal look when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”
“No, you don’t.” I elbowed him in the ribs and stepped around him to answer the door.
My breath literally caught in my throat. Damn, he was stunning.
Phoenix flashed a warm radiant smile, then handed me a small plate covered with aluminum foil. “Hi. I brought treats.”
I took the plate and pretended to eye it suspiciously while clandestinely checking him out. His platinum hair contrasted nicely with his long hipster black-and-white checked jacket, ripped jeans, and short boots. He looked stylish and sexy. I felt grossly underdressed in my gray sweat pants and a long-sleeved Mammoth Lake T-shirt. I’d showered and brushed my teeth. Hell, I even bought a bottle of wine. But I wasn’t going to get dressed up to sit around reading…well, whatever it was Phoenix wanted to read.
“Mmm. Smells good. It can’t be oatmeal.”
“They’re brownies,” he announced. “But you said you liked oatmeal cookies.”
“In a pinch. I love brownies all the time. Come on in.” I pressed a light kiss on his lips and stepped aside for him to enter. “And don’t mind that guy. He’s on his way out.”
I made a quick round of introductions, then set the plate on the kitchen counter while Christian and Phoenix made polite small talk about college classes and even football. Phoenix asked Christian about a big play he ran in the championship game…a sure sign he’d been googling. I smiled at the thought as I hooked my arm around his waist and gave my roommate a universal “stop talking” hand signal.
Christian chuckled. “Looks like I’m out of time.”
“Sad to see you go, buddy,” I quipped.
“Yeah, I bet. I’ll get my jacket and be outta your way. Nice to see you again, Phoenix.”
I waited for Christian to move into his room before pulling Phoenix into my arms and fusing my lips to his. “Mmm. You taste like strawberries.”
He rested his arms over my shoulders and nodded. “Strawberry-kiwi.”
“My favorite flavor.”
I kissed him deeply this time. The sweet, languid slide of his tongue alongside mine made me dizzy with desire. I heard Christian call another good-bye before opening and closing the door, but even that didn’t break the spell. We made out in an unhurried give-and-take, swaying slightly as though we were slow dancing. When Phoenix lifted his arms to hug me closer, his bag fell between us and hit me in the thigh. He chuckled at my exaggerated wince.
“Sorry.” He patted the side of his bag. “The script.”
“Right. Uh, are you hungry or do you want anything to drink? I have wine.”
“That sounds perfect. And water too, please.”
“You got it. I’ll be right back.” I kissed his temple impulsively before moving to the kitchen.
I grabbed two water bottles and stuffed them into my sweat pants pockets along with a corkscrew, then picked up the wine I’d bought earlier, two glasses, and the plate of brownies before rejoining him. Phoenix snickered as I set each item on the coffee table with a flourish like a waiter, and thanked me when I handed him a water bottle. He set it beside the brownies before shrugging off his coat and draping the garment over the side of the sofa.
“Thank you. The brownies are yours. You don’t have to share them with me.”
“I’m not sharing. You’re my taste tester. They look amazing, but they might suck,” I teased as I uncorked the bottle. “Watching cooking shows doesn’t turn you into a cooker.”
“Baker. Not cooker. And I’m a very good baker. I assure you these do not suck.” He pulled the foil from the plate and broke off a piece. “Try one.”
I poured wine into both glasses, then put the bottle down with a dramatic sigh before turning to him with my mouth open. When he lifted the brownie bite to my lips, I held his wrist and looked him in the eye as I licked it from his fingers.
“It’s good,” I hummed.
“Just good?”
I sucked the digit clean and bit it playfully. “Very good.”
Phoenix gulped audibly and covered it with a cough. “Thanks.”
I handed him a glass of wine and gently clinked my glass to his. “Cheers.”
He gave me an appreciative once-over before taking a sip. The automatic ego boost was heady. He had to know I felt the same way. Before I could defuse the sexual tension by saying something corny, he bent to pull a binder from his bag.
“Ta-da! Chicago.” He sifted through a few loose pages tucked in the inside pocket and presented them to me like a gift. “You know the story, right?”
“No,” I admitted.
Phoenix gaped in disbelief, then shook his head. “It’s okay. We can watch the movie together sometime. You’ll love it. I won’t spoil it for you, but I need to tell you a little about Billy Flynn. He’s the best lawyer in Chicago. He’s never lost a case. He’s sexy, masculine, and very persuasive. But he’s also very intelligent…and kind of greedy. He’ll basically do whatever it takes to win. The problem is I’m nothing like Billy, so I’m going to really have to dig deep to channel his unapologetic self-confidence. That’s where you come in.”
“O-kay. How?”
“Well, the scene they gave me to audition is a conversation between Roxie and Billy. You’ll read Roxie and prompt me for my lines. If I don’t sound masculine enough, let me know and maybe give me tips on how to up my straight game.”
“But I’m not straight,” I replied glibly.
“But you know how to act straight.”
“I don’t ‘act straight,’ Phoenix. I’m just me.”
“Fabulous,” he said in a super campy tone. “Let’s give it a try and—”
“Have you been to Chicago?” I intercepted.
“No. Have you?”
“Yeah, we went on a family trip to see the Cubs at Wrigley when I was twelve.”
He cocked his head curiously. “At the zoo?”
“Huh? No. I don’t think we went to the zoo,” I replied, furrowing my brow.
“Oh. You said cubs…like bears, right?”
“Wrong. The Chicago Cubs. The baseball team.” I shook my head incredulously. “You don’t know the Cubs?”
“You don’t know Billy Flynn?” he countered.
“No, but—”
“I guess we’re even,” he said testily.
I slipped the binder from his lap and set it on the floor next to his bag before pulling him toward me.
“Don’t get mad. I didn’t mean to be a dick. I just…” I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my forehead against his for a moment. “Doesn’t everyone know baseball?”
“No.” He pushed my chest and glared at me. “Lots of people don’t. Welcome to the real world, Max. Not everyone likes or cares about sports. Some people like hiking, biking, swimming, and outdoor adventures.”
“That’s cool.”
“Some people would rather read or go to the theater or—”
“Less cool, but okay,” I teased, wrapping my arm around him. I squeezed him close when he tried to pull away. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I like to read and I don’t know anything about the theater, but I’m willing to learn. And you want to know why?”
“ ’Cause you want me to suck your cock,” he deadpanned.
“Exactly,” I joked.
“Hmph. Shall we get back to Billy and Roxie?”
“Fine.” I let out an exasperated rush of air before reaching for the paper he’d given me. Then I pulled his legs over mine and slipped his boots and socks from his feet.
Phoenix chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“Just helping you get comfortable. All right. I’m ready now. Tell me what to do.”
We went over the scene a few times. I read Roxie’s lines, changing my vocal affectation to make him laugh while he tried out his version of a more masculine tone. After the eightieth read-through…okay, the third…I tossed the script on the coffee table and put my hands in the air.
“What’s the matter? Too deep?” He cleared his throat and reread a line.
“No. That’s not it. If you want my honest opinion, I think you should use your own voice.”
He made a funny face. “I’ve been told my voice is a little too gay. Billy isn’t gay.”
“Make him gay. Make the role yours,” I said.
“It’s Chicago, Max. You can’t change a classic. Think mean streets, hardened desperate souls, and jailbirds. None of that screams fabulous.”
“Maybe not, but it seems like you should be able to play your part and still use your own voice.”
“That sounds kind of…deep.” He reached for his wine and took a sip.
“I’m not known for being deep, so don’t listen to me. It’s not like I know what I’m talking about,” I said with a self-deprecating shrug.
“Don’t put yourself down, Max. You’re a smart guy.”
“About some things, sure. But not plays.”
“I’m not talking about a play. I’m talking about following your instincts. You’re good at that. Better than me. I bounce from idea to idea, but you stick with things and people. You have your feet on the ground. You’re practical, but not boring. You’re focused.”
“Really? I don’t feel that way at all,” I sighed.
“Makes sense. It’s hard to see yourself clearly.”
“Well, maybe in baseball that’s true.”
“I don’t know baseball,” he replied. “I’m talking about everyday stuff, like how to prioritize and get things done. Like planning, grocery shopping, exercising.”
“That’s stuff everyone does.”
Phoenix shook his head. “Not like you. You’re efficient. You know what you want, and you plan accordingly to make it happen.”
I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “If that was true, I would have called you the day after we met.”
“That’s different. You had a boyfriend,” he said softly.
“Yeah, but…”
“And you’re not out now, so you can’t exercise your instincts freely. It doesn’t matter what you want if it’s more important to keep a secret.”
I frowned. “I want to be mad at you, but you’re right. And I can’t do anything about it till I graduate next year.”
Phoenix smiled wanly. “You could, you just choose not to.”
I squinted at him. “Are you asking me to come out or—”
“No. I wouldn’t do that. And we’re temporary, Max. It’s part of our agreement. You might not want me around for long if we were actual boyfriends. I’m kind of high-maintenance,” Phoenix assured me as he leaned over to grab another piece of brownie.
I plucked the brownie from his fingers and popped it into my mouth. “Define high-maintenance.”
“Well, I like going to restaurants, concerts, plays, parties…leaving the apartment.”
His flippant delivery and playful wink took any sting from his words. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. I tugged at his lobe and then stuck my finger in his ear to bug him, chuckling lightly when he swatted me away.
“I’m gonna plan a date for us,” I announced.
Phoenix made a funny face. “You weren’t listening. We’re not boyfriends, Max. I don’t want you to—”
“I want to. My instincts tell me I’m on the right track too. I’m going to teach you how to play baseball.”
He fixed me with a blank stare. “Dates are supposed to be fun.”
“Baseball is fun.”
“Baseball is boring,” he countered.
I gasped in mock outrage before launching myself at him. I pushed him flat on the sofa and tickled him until he called “Uncle.” Then I gathered him close and rained kisses all over his face before giving him an admonishing once-over.
“You only think baseball is boring because you’ve never played it.”
“Not true. I played T-ball.”
“I thought you said you never played any sports.”
“Well, I was five. I didn’t think it counted.”
“Aww. It doesn’t. It’s cute, but it’s not real baseball. I didn’t like it when I was a kid either. I thought it was for babies. The best thing about T-ball was snack time.”
“I agree. The rest was torture. I had a hard time hitting the ball off that stick thing and when I finally did, I could never remember which way to run…or when to stop. One time, I ran clear across the park before I realized something was wrong. When I got back to the bench, everyone made fun of me.”
“Poor baby.” I kissed his temple. “Don’t let those old bullies get you down. I bet if you tried it now, you’d like it.”
“Hmph. I just don’t understand what’s so fun about standing around on a field waiting for something to happen.”
“The problem is that you don’t know the rules. The best way to learn is to play. I’ll teach you.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. We’ll start with basics. How to hit, how to catch the ball, and—”
“Kiss me, Max.” Phoenix sat forward and hooked his right arm around my shoulder, then brushed his nose against my cheek before covering my mouth.
I pulled back and smiled. “Are you trying to distract me? ’Cause it’s not gonna work.”
“Hmm. No. I was just…overcome with butterflies. It happens sometimes.”
“Sounds like a potentially serious condition,” I joked, reaching for his belt loop before cupping his crotch. “Do you feel it…here?”
Phoenix rocked his hips wantonly and let out a sexy moan. “Yeah, right there.”
“I better check it out.”
I flipped him on his back and made quick work of undressing him, haphazardly shoving his briefs and jeans down his legs. Then I straddled his torso and watched through hooded eyes as he lowered the elastic of my sweat pants over my rigid cock. He held my gaze and stroked me languidly. Up and down, up and down.
“Mmm. It’s happening again,” he purred.
I leaned sideways to grab lube and a condom from the coffee-table drawer. I gave him the latex to unwrap while I uncapped the bottle. I poured a small amount on my fingers and eased a single digit into his hole before gripping his dick.
“Does it feel better now?”
“No, it’s worse. Gimme more,” he commanded.
I obeyed, then bent to kiss him, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Can you feel it now?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Me too. How often do you feel this way?”
Phoenix stared at me for a moment before closing his eyes. “Only when I’m with you.”
I couldn’t tell if that was a throwaway line, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask or confess that it was the same for me. So I kissed him instead.
Soft kisses gave way to passionate ones. We sucked and licked at tongues and lips as we grinded against each other. I sat up to pull off my T-shirt and pushed the fabric under him to use as a makeshift towel before rolling the condom over my thick cock. Phoenix raised his right leg over the back of the sofa, and I held his gaze as I entered him slowly.
I half expected him to ask for me to go harder and faster, but we were completely in sync. We made love in a perfect cadence of give-and-take. Maybe that was a flowery sentiment, but that was what it felt like. He lifted his hips to meet every thrust, every push and pull. He wound himself around me, raking his nails down my back and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. When his sighs of pleasure reached a feverish high, he clung to me for dear life and fell apart. And I was right there with him.
I felt oddly sensitive afterward. Like my emotions were bubbling on the surface. I tightened my hold around him to keep him close. I didn’t want him to look at me. I was sure he’d know exactly what was on my mind. And I didn’t think I could handle it if he said I had the wrong idea. I didn’t know what the right idea was yet.
* * *
A Saturday morning in late March was a good day for baseball. My team had a bye, so I had the whole weekend to hang out with my new favorite person. I suggested making a date out of it. I hoped the lure of a day in Laguna would make the idea of swinging a bat palatable for someone with zero interest in my sport. All he had to do was wear comfortable clothing and sneakers and be ready to go at nine a.m.
Phoenix hopped into my car and flashed a brilliant smile at me as he fastened his seat belt. “I’m ready to do baseball. Put me in, Coach!”
I snickered and gave him a thorough once-over. He wore dark jeans and a blue T-shirt under a black jacket. The pop of color gave his eyes a jewel tone. “You look hot.”
“Am I sporty enough? I didn’t want to overdo it, but Sunny insisted on the hat.” He pulled the black cap from his head to show me.
“Wrong team, but it’s a good idea,” I remarked, grabbing his wrist and pressing a quick kiss on his knuckles.
“How do you know what team it is?”
I rolled my eyes before pulling out of the parking lot. He knew more about baseball at this point than he probably wanted to admit. We spent a lot of time together, and I learned almost immediately that Phoenix was a stickler for details. Especially ones having to do with color and design.
Nonetheless, I humored him. “D is for Diamondbacks. It also stands for ‘dork,’ so you’re all set.”
“Ha. Ha. I’ll save it for later. I don’t want to have hat-head. I wish I had a blue one to go with my shirt, but I’m shocked I had this one.”
“I’ll let you wear my Dodger cap. It’s blue. But it’s a special good luck hat…so you gotta be careful. Or else,” I said in my best gangster voice.
“Okay, thanks. We’ll trade. You can wear this one.”
“No fuckin’ way,” I snorted derisively. “No offense, but that’s not my team. I’ll go without.”
Phoenix chuckled. “Whatever you say. Where to first?”
“Breakfast at the beach. I made reservations at a restaurant my folks took us to a while ago. It’s on a hill in Laguna Beach and has amazing ocean views. I figured we’d hit the cages and then head down to the beach. Sound good?”
“Sounds like a date,” he commented, unable to hide his grin.
“It is.”
“Gosh, I’m gonna think you really like me if you’re not careful,” he teased.
I was tempted to give him what he probably wasn’t expecting. I bit back the “Yes, I’m really fucking crazy about you” declaration and switched gears. “You’ll love Laguna. It’s beautiful.”
“And it’s far.”
“Not too bad. We can get on the toll road and get there in forty minutes.”
“Fine by me. I’ll be very hungry when we get there. I’ve got pancakes on the brain. And bacon. And I’m thinking I—”
“Hey, is this okay?” I intercepted. “I don’t want you to think I don’t want to be seen with you, because that’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. But don’t worry. Those are the rules.”
We were quiet for a few moments, lost in our own thoughts. When Phoenix pointed to the green hillside and made small talk about how blue the sky looked, I crumbled.
“This feels…wrong,” I blurted.
“Then turn around. We don’t have to go any—”
“No. That’s not what I meant. Hiding feels wrong, but you feel right. I don’t know how not to hide, though. I’ve done it my whole life,” I said in a low, strangled-sounding voice. “I just don’t want to insult you or make you think I’m ashamed to be with you. I’m not. I’m…honored. I’m…I guess that’s the word. I’m extraordinarily honored to be with you.”
“Thank you.” Phoenix twisted sideways to face me and leaned across the console to kiss my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up, Max. When you’re ready, you’ll know.”
He reached for my hand and squeezed it affectionately, laughing when I wouldn’t let go. He gave in with a sigh and changed the conversation to neutral topics like the season finale of the Canadian cooking show we’d started watching together. I don’t think either of us realized we’d held hands for the entire drive until we arrived at the restaurant.
We scored a killer table at the cottage-style café with panoramic views of the Pacific. We feasted on pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and hash browns and talked about movies we loved as kids and our favorite shows on the Disney Channel and Nickelodeon. After breakfast, we drove along the canyon road and parked on a side street in front of the batting cages.
I hadn’t been to this facility in years, but I had sweet memories of coming here with my family when I was a kid. In fact, this whole day was a flashback to simpler times when everyone in the Maldonado clan got jazzed up about pancakes, baseball, and the beach. Phoenix didn’t know it, but I’d accidentally invited him into my inner world.
He laughed when I threw his Diamonbacks cap in the backseat and set my Dodgers cap on his head. I kissed his nose and grabbed my gear from the trunk before leading the way to the kiosk-style desk. This was a bare-bones operation catering to all ages and skill levels, which meant it was popular with kids and families. I rented a cage for one hour, picked up a helmet for Phoenix and tokens to feed the pitching machine. The attendant gave us a quick tutorial and assigned us a cage at the end. I sidestepped a posse of grade-school-age kids and turned to give Phoenix a reassuring smile when he stepped inside.
“Smile. This is fun,” I said, handing over the rented helmet. “Here. Put this on. I’m gonna grab a bat for you. I have an extra pair of gloves too.”
He nodded politely and took the helmet by the bill, holding it between his thumb and forefinger like it was a potentially dangerous object. I pulled the gear from my bag and chuckled at his expression.
“Do I need this?”
“Batting helmets are mandatory, babe. Take the cap off.”
“Is it clean?”
“I’m sure they sanitize them between use. You want to wear mine? It’s got my cooties all over it,” I singsonged as I yanked his cap off and placed my helmet on his head. “Put the gloves on too. Get snappy. We only have an hour. It goes fast.”
He obeyed, then cocked his head and set his hands on his hips. “Where are the balls?”
“They’re in the machine at the other end of the cage. Here’s how this works…the machine is the pitcher. I’ve got it on a slow setting so you should be able to hit the ball easily. You just stand up to the line, wait for the pitch, and swing the bat. Got it?”
“No. Maybe you should go first.”
“Okay.”
I took my helmet back, grabbed a bat and gave a couple of practice swings. Then I stepped up and told him to push the button. It was far too easy to crush the hell out of the ball, but I still loved the sensation. I pivoted toward Phoenix with a stupid grin on my face that turned into laughter when he cheered like a loon, jumping up and down and clapping.
“That was so good!”
“Gee, thanks. Now it’s your turn.” I transferred the helmet to his head, handed over the bat, and gave a quick lesson. “Your grip is important. Palm up, palm down. Wrap your fingers around first and curl your thumb over them. Now your left hand goes underneath your right. Good job. Next thing you need to know is where to stand. You’re set up to succeed at a batting cage. On a real field, you gotta figure out your personal sweet spot. Some players like to be on top of the plate, others take a piece of it.”
“Do you like to be on top?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes.
I shot a cocky grin at him. “Always.”
“Mmm. Maybe I should top sometime.”
“Maybe you should.”
“You’d let me?”
I stared at him for a long moment, willing my dick to behave. “Are you gonna hit it or not?”
He flashed a mischievous smile and shook his ass before stepping to the line. “So baseball is where ‘hit that’ comes from? I want to hit that. Did you hit that? I’m ready to hit that.”
I put on a stern “coach” face and scowled at him. “Are you going to be serious?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He bit his bottom lip and widened his eyes. “Gosh, I don’t want to make you mad, ’cause I want you to hit that. Not here, of course. Although, sport sex could be really hot. We could pretend this is a game and you’re coaching me on the side, but I’m just not getting it. You’re frustrated with me, so you decide to show me how it’s done. Picture this…” He spread his hands wide for effect and continued in a sex-hazed tone. “You get behind me to correct my bat swing and—”
“It’s just called a swing. Not a bat swing,” I corrected, pursing my lips in amusement.
“Right. I stick my ass out…like this—” He paused to demonstrate, wiggling his butt. “And you’re already hard. You can’t hide it and you can’t fight it, so you drop the bat and push your baseball pants down to release your own bat and balls.”
“Very clever,” I snarked.
“I think so too. It gets better. I can’t see your equipment right away. I can feel it though, and I’m so ready for it. When you pull my equally hot and super tight baseball pants down, I bend over, you push your dick inside me and fuck me like—”
“No lube?”
“Well, it’s a fantasy, so I’m ready for you. No lube or spit required. Although I’m not much for spit in real life. It’s the sanitary thing again, I s’pose. Don’t get me sidetracked.” He waved distractedly and tapped his chin. “Anyway, we’re totally doing it. I’m holding on to the fence, you’re behind me, jerking me off while you fuck me and—”
“Where are the people? The fans, the teams…are they just watching us?”
I was impressed with my rational tone. This was pure torture. I was hard as a rock now with no sign of relief in sight for hours.
“Maybe. Do you get off on that?” he asked casually, like we were talking about our favorite flavor of Pop-Tarts.
“No. And time is ticking. We’ll dissect all your nasty daydreams later when we can actually do something about them. Take a couple of practice swings. Go on.”
“You’re no fun. Can I ask you one more question?”
“Swing first and then you can ask.”
Phoenix scowled but did as I said. “What’s your favorite position?”
“First base.”
“Hmm. I think mine is missionary.” He stepped up to the line and swung the bat like a flyswatter, missing the ball by a mile and grinned. “How was that?”
It was cute. He was cute. But sexy too. If I didn’t think we’d get arrested, I would have happily made his fantasy come true, right then and there. I could picture his fingers wrapped around the wire fence, his jeans around his ankles, my dick in his ass.
I closed my eyes briefly and inclined my head. “Not bad. Try again. With a little heat this time.”
After twelve attempts, he finally made contact with the ball. It went a mere three feet, but he celebrated as if he’d hit a home run. He tossed the bat and the helmet and did a mini victory lap in the confined space. No doubt our neighbors thought he was nuts. He obviously didn’t care, and that might have been part of the charm.
“Do you want me to do it again?”
I snickered. “Sure. Why not?”
He took a few more swings before handing the bat over to “give me a try.” Every time I hit the ball, he cheered and clapped enthusiastically. He was silly and campy, more so than usual. I had a feeling that had a lot to do with being outside his comfort zone. And Christian was right, Phoenix definitely pushed me outside of mine. But he made me feel the opposite of what I would have imagined. I wasn’t worried about what anyone else thought. I just felt lucky to be with him.
When our hour was up, we drove down to the beach and parked on a side street under a giant eucalyptus tree. We trekked through a quiet neighborhood and ended up at a mostly deserted stretch of beach. The blue sky was dotted with fluffy cotton ball clouds. Seagulls squawked loudly as they skimmed the shoreline, foraging for food. The ocean breeze made it feel cooler than it probably was. We sat on a rock facing the water, huddling against each other for warmth, chatting about everything and nothing at all. It was like a version of our evening sofa talks minus sex. Just a couple of guys who’d inexplicably become friends. I could talk to Phoenix about anything…my frustrations with the team, my coach’s unrealistic expectations, my growing irritation with Micah. I even told him about Coach wanting Sky on the team.
“Do you think he’d come back?”
“Honestly, no. We’re too far into the season. But don’t worry about him. He’s not important.”
“I’m not worried,” he assured me. “I’m too stressed about my audition to think about anything else.”
“Don’t be. You’re gonna nail it. You’ve got this, babe,” I said, draping my arm over his shoulder and kissing his cheek.
“Thanks. But what makes you so sure?”
“First of all, you’ve had an amazing coach to help you study your script and secondly—” I tickled him when he rolled his eyes, hugging him closer and adding, “You’re talented and passionate and…you’re the kind of person who can do anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.”
Phoenix pulled away slightly and beamed at me. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”
My heart swelled and tripped over itself. His look of utter adoration was humbling. It was something I wanted to be worthy of.
“Don’t thank me. It’s true,” I said, brushing my nose against his.
We sat quietly for a while. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but if he asked me the same question, I’d have to lie. There was no way I could tell him I was wondering if there was a way I could keep him forever.