Home Plate (Easton U Pirates 2)

“Um, thanks?” He pulled on his collar as if it were somehow restricting. “It’s only the shirt.”

“It looks good on you.”

I saw the blush forming as he pushed the launch button, then placed his fingers on the flippers to keep his ball in play.

There was that small hint of humility again, which only made him more attractive.

“Okay, you’re way better at pinball than me,” I admitted when he outscored me yet again.

“Finally schooled your ass in something.” He fist-pumped the air, and my gaze got caught again on the genuine smile.

I motioned over my shoulder to the snack counter. “Let’s get something to drink.”

“So nice to see you, Mason,” Mom said as we approached, and he seemed momentarily stunned, either that she used his first name or that she remembered it at all.

“Two sodas coming right up,” Gemma said with a grin, always happy to have something to do.

“Nickie, you and your friend have a seat right here and let me feed you,” Mom said in a voice that I knew left little room for discussion. I felt momentarily guilty as we slid onto a couple of stools, but also thankful that we had a lighter crowd tonight. “I have pretzels I just salted.”

“I can always eat,” Maclain replied sheepishly, and there was that charm again. He certainly had it in him, even if he didn’t realize it.

“That’s the spirit.” I chuckled. “Fill up on Mexican, then junk food.”

“To my credit, I didn’t eat much,” he replied as Gemma placed a drink in front of him. “Dad brought his new girlfriend, so it was a bit…distracting.”

A rare disclosure, which might’ve explained why he’d seemed so out of sorts when he arrived.

Mom served us, and we dug right in, and since I’d only eaten a sandwich earlier, my stomach was thankful.

A new group of bowlers headed straight to the rental counter for shoes, and Mom sent Gemma over, encouraging me to finish eating. I wasn’t sure why she was being so insistent that I hang out, but I obviously wasn’t going to object.

“Where is your family from?” Mom asked Maclain, and I stiffened briefly, hoping he felt comfortable enough to reveal more about his family. But Mom had a way about her that worked on even the shyest people.

“I grew up in Louisville,” he replied after a sip of soda. “With my mom and my…stepfather.”

“Stepfather?” I asked without forethought. That was a twist I hadn’t seen coming.

“Yeah…” He looked down at his food. “I’ve always called him Dad because he’s the only one I’ve ever known.”

“That makes sense,” I replied, chewing thoughtfully.

“Your parents are divorced?” Mom asked as she wiped the counter clean. I tried to throw her a warning look, but it probably wouldn’t have worked. She had a mind of her own.

“No.” His voice sounded a bit rough. “Mom died when I was ten, and my stepfather, well, he promised to raise me.”

“I’m sorry.” Mom patted his hand in sympathy and clutched her cross necklace like she did sometimes when she felt sad or stressed. “That must’ve been very hard on you. She’s in heaven with God now, and he’s watching over her.”

“Yeah, uh…sure, thanks,” he mumbled into his drink, and I felt lost on how to offer support or a reprieve. I had no idea if Maclain had a religious affiliation or a philosophy on the afterlife, and I wasn’t about to start asking now. He seemed uncomfortable enough.

I shifted my leg so my thigh provided steady pressure against his under the counter. He didn’t scowl or move away, so maybe he welcomed it.

Or maybe I’d hear about it later.

Don’t touch me.

Though sometimes it seemed like he craved the opposite. Like he was starved for it.

He was definitely a conundrum.

A customer approached and placed an order of nachos, and I noticed Maclain blowing out a breath, like he was finally out from under the microscope. I wanted to apologize for my mother’s inquisition, but I also knew she was a caring person and meant well.

When a small line formed, I hopped up to swing around the counter and help, despite my mother’s objections. I made their drinks while Mom rang up their orders. We were always a team around here, and I wondered if Maclain noticed that, too, because I could feel him watching us.

Just as the last customer got their food, I heard Dad’s voice from the office. “Dom, the computer is acting up again.”

“We don’t know why it keeps freezing on us,” Mom explained to Maclain.

“Mind if I take a look?” he said, standing up and following me to the office. Dad moved aside so Maclain could click on some stuff in the settings and test the speed himself. “It looks like it’s your Internet connection. Your router might need replacing.”

“Computer science major,” I pointed out when Dad thanked him and seemed impressed.