Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“We doin’ this?” I asked.
“Not sure we have a choice.”
“You want one?” I countered, knowing the answer.
“Nah, this is gonna be fun.”
“That’s my boy!” I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pressed a playful, loud kiss to his temple. It was something I would have done to any of my friends, but not something I’d done to Jonathan before. He surprised me when he leaned over and kissed the top of my head.
I might have melted a little.
From a kiss.
On my head.
Not the one in my pants either.
Fuck my life.
What was it about Jonathan that got to me so much?
“We better get out of here.” He let go of me, and I sort of…missed the contact.
Fuck my life again.
It was the bottom of the ninth.
We were playing a pretty good team. The score was tied, and we had two outs. Andrew, the guy who’d just been up to bat, had struck out, and Jonathan was on deck.
“Come on, J! You got this!” I called out, clapping as he made his way to the plate. Mark was standing beside me, cheering, and I almost wanted to tell him to find his own friend to clap for, but I bit my tongue. I would not become jealous. It wasn’t my style. Breathe in, breathe out. Stop making me weird, Jonathan!
The pitcher threw a perfect fastball.
Jonathan swung and—“Strike one!”
“Fuck,” I cursed softly. “Come on, handsome. You got this,” I whispered.
The pitcher threw again—“Strike two!”
Come on, come on, come on. I wanted this for him more than I wanted to win the game, and I really fucking wanted to win the game. But I knew it would make Jonathan feel good to help bring home the W.
God, I was oddly mushy over this guy.
I could practically see the speed smoking off the ball when it was pitched. Somehow, it went in slow motion too—the ball heading toward Jonathan…him swinging…the bat connecting. “Fuck yes!” I yelled as it flew into the outfield and over the fence.
My heart thudded against my chest. Jonathan hooted and hollered as he rounded the bases. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I pumped my fist through the air.
As soon as Jonathan crossed home plate, he came straight for me.
“Good job, man!” I said just before his arms wrapped around me and he lifted me up, hugging me. I laughed because this so wasn’t Jonathan and I fucking loved every second of it.
He set me down, surprise almost knocking me on my ass when he gave me a smacking kiss on the forehead, similar to earlier. “God, that felt good.”
“It should have. You just won the game for us.”
He smiled at me, and my pulse stumbled. Then he ruffled my hair like I was his kid brother or something before high-fiving Mark.
We finished out the game. The batter behind Jonathan made it to second, but the guy behind him struck out. Still, we won because of Jonathan’s home run.
“That means beers are on me,” Mark said while we packed up, and wait…what? They were hanging out?
I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.
Why did I care? Stupid me and loving the chase.
“I thought it was my treat next time?” Jonathan replied to him.
“That was before you won our first game for us.”
“Damn, I’m good.”
I watched the exchange play out between the two of them.
Mark glanced my way. “Whoever is free, we should meet up for lunch. I’m buying drinks.”
Jonathan shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes, and it was too fucking cute for words. “We should go out to lunch,” he said. “We didn’t have anything else planned, right?”
I knew he didn’t mean anything by we. It wasn’t as if he and I were a package deal, but still, it made me feel like a warm chocolate-chip cookie inside. “Yeah, sure. We can do that.”
We made plans to eat at the same restaurant I’d taken Jonathan to, and apparently they’d gone there last night as well. It made sense, I guess. It was a popular place in Midtown and could fit the group of us. Most of the guys said they could go. Only a few couldn’t. The coaches were going too.
“You guys wanna ride with me?” Mark asked. It was technically within walking distance, but we all had our equipment with us.
“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan replied.
Mark drove a black Jeep, which was a fucking sexy vehicle, because of course he would drive one. We tossed our stuff in the back, Jonathan sitting up front with Mark. The top was off, so the wind was making Jonathan’s hair fly all around his head as we made the short drive and looked for a place to park.
We sat in the bar area this time. Some of the guys were already there when we arrived, seated at a group of tall tables in the corner. Jonathan and Mark were chatting away, and I sort of lingered beside him like a lost puppy.