Bat Boy (Easton U Pirates 1)

Thankfully, Maclain got his head back on straight, but I didn’t have quite the same luck and cursed myself for allowing a runner on base during the third inning. I should’ve hurled the ball harder and faster. But at least it wasn’t a wild throw that went over Hollister’s head. I’d had plenty of those over the years and had trained hard to rely on muscle memory, and not panic, when there was a runner barreling at Hollister down the line.

After several successful catches, throws, and outs that involved overall team effort, it still wasn’t enough to pull off a win. By the ninth inning, the other team was up by five runs and had the game in the bag.

As we grabbed our stuff from the dugout and headed to the locker room, I knew Maclain would be a bear for the rest of the night, so I planned on getting a good buzz on and tuning him out. Though chances were, he’d hook up with someone from the bar and show up in the morning. And since Hollister would be with his girlfriend, it looked like I’d be flying solo again.

I was too chicken to ask Kellan to hang out, and he’d probably turn me down anyway, unless it was a group situation. And even then, he was good at ducking out on us early. There was so much I wanted to know about him, like what he did in his spare time when Jasmine wasn’t around and if we had more in common than baseball. Although, knowing the little details about him might prove to be pure torture as well.

4

Kellan

“Yo, Bat Boy.” Maclain snapped his fingers, trying to get my attention, but I ignored him because nobody ordered me around—unless I was hooking up with a hot guy and I specifically asked for it. Okay, the ordering-around part had never happened, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Do not look in Donovan’s direction.

Maclain’s mood was the perfect example why I wore my earbuds in the clubhouse—on low—so I could use it as an excuse for not hearing them when they got snippy or bossy.

“These towels needed more time in the dryer. They were still damp.”

He effectively dropped his towel on the ground before slowly pulling up his briefs, all in an effort to get a rise out of me, most likely because of the custard incident. Probably thought I’d report back to Jasmine that he was indeed packing. Or maybe he just thought I’d appreciate his bulk all on my own. I averted my eyes as I kicked the towel over to a pile in the corner. Nope, not gonna give Maclain’s junk any attention. So not the junk I was interested in anyway.

Not that they knew I was gay, but some of them had probably guessed. I was pretty twinky when I let my freak flag fly, or my inner bitch, something I avoided doing around here. Unless I couldn’t help myself. Besides, I couldn’t look like a pushover either.

“Well, you’re damp too, so you match.”

“Good one, Kiddie Crawford.”

“Thanks, Mini Maclain,” I said under my breath. I didn’t want to push it. Most of the players were decent, but everyone had their days, especially when they lost, like today.

Maclain was looking for a fight, and I certainly didn’t want to be the guy’s punching bag, but I had a feeling he might’ve been someone else’s—figuratively speaking. I wasn’t trying to be some sort of pseudo-psychologist, but after so many weeks and games together, who could miss his longing looks into the stands? I didn’t know his family history, but I did notice that the one time an impeccably dressed man around my parents’ age showed up, Maclain seemed not only surprised, but…happier. Damn. It only served to emphasize how lucky I was in the parent department. Jasmine reminded me of that every chance she got, since she was raised by a single mother and missed her dad, who’d left them when she was young.

“Kellan has a name,” Donovan said in a growly voice I enjoyed too much as he sidled to his locker across from me, in only a towel.

I kept my eyes averted as I picked up a pile of uniforms and stacked them near the washer. Why torture myself more? Especially when he was being all sweet and protective—even if it didn’t really help where these guys were concerned, and probably only made it worse.

He added, “And you’re only messing with him because Coach is out of earshot.”

Maclain narrowed his eyes. “And you’re just trying to butter Kellan up to get brownie points with Coach.”

Donovan stood up straighter and flexed for show. “I don’t need to butter anyone up, you jackass. People can tell I’m pretty damned special all on my own.”

The other guys laughed, and I rolled my eyes. That was Brady in a nutshell—a six-foot-two giant—at least compared to me—overconfident, and sweet, all rolled into one. The big lug nut.