Home Plate (Easton U Pirates 2)

Once class let out, I made a beeline to the campus bookstore because they sold snacks near the front of the shop. I picked up a soda from the refrigerated display, and then my gaze scanned the candy aisle. We had a short bus trip to an away game ahead of us, and I was hungry. Even though I always teased Kellan about favoring Donovan with snack choices, he did keep us well-stocked on treats at the clubhouse, but that service didn’t always extend to games on the road, and I needed something to tide me over now.

My eyes snagged on a bag of candy I hadn’t eaten in years, and as I lifted it and studied the wrapper, I wondered if Maclain would enjoy it too. Okay…random, stray thoughts about a pain-in-the-ass pitcher. Abort! But I decided to buy the candy anyway, broody team player or not.

“You guys on the road today?” I heard Jasmine ask from behind the cash register.

“Yeah, playing the Tigers.” I placed my selections in front of her on the counter. It wasn’t lost on me that at one point last year, I thought she and Maclain were dating, or at least hooking up, and when she’d shown up to cheer for him in the stands end of last season, my stomach had revolted a bit. Okay, a lot.

Until I saw the look on Maclain’s face, which had been unmistakably full of overwhelming gratitude that someone was actually there for him. That had about killed me. And now that I knew they were only friends, I’d always be indebted to her for being able to witness that small moment, even though she’d never know it.

“Well, good luck. Tell Maclain I said so too.” When she looked pointedly in my direction, my stomach felt strange. Had Maclain shared something with her about me? But he didn’t seem the type to divulge much to anyone, unless it was to poke fun.

“Will do,” I replied absently.

As I walked to my car, I considered what it would feel like to be in his confidence. Would he let his vulnerabilities show? Doubtful.

Before I went up to the apartment to change for the game, I stopped in the bowling alley to kiss Mom on the cheek and high-five Gemma.

“Nickie!” Gemma hugged me as if she hadn’t seen me in a while.

“Getting ready to head to my game. Need anything?”

“No, we’re all good,” Dad replied as he came around the counter, no doubt from fixing that same pinspotter that always gave us trouble.

“How far away is this one?” Mom asked as she returned bowling shoes to their appropriate slots.

“Only an hour. I’ll be back tonight.”

“I plan to be at your next home game, Dominic,” Dad said, and it warmed me to my core. He tried to attend a handful of games a season and always kept his word. Unlike someone else’s dad… I tried putting myself in Maclain’s place, imagining what it might feel like if my father always promised and never showed. What would our relationship look like, and how would it affect me as a person?

That soft spot I had inside me for Maclain felt tender, like someone had poked a bruise. Couldn’t help it. Add in that fucking bee, and I was even more pathetic.

I grabbed a hot dog to devour on my way up to my apartment. The modest-sized space had an industrial flair to it, with its exposed bricks and pipes, and, similar to the bowling alley, needed some upkeep. But practically all the furniture was left over from my brother, which suited me fine. The bed was queen-size, the couch was large and comfy, and that was pretty much all I needed.

Uniform on, I pulled down my cap, then headed to my car and back to campus where I met the team for the ride to the game.

The chatter was part excitement, part nerves as I boarded the bus. Maclain appeared more relaxed, likely because he wasn’t pitching today and didn’t have to be in that same headspace. I liked when he was softer like this, his forehead creases gone, his posture more unguarded.

It was probably the reason I chose the seat directly behind him. I saw him tense slightly as he glanced out the window toward the home field. Coach didn’t say we needed to sit together, only share a room during our weekends away, but it couldn’t hurt to try talking to him on a more regular basis.

After I got myself situated, I reached inside my bag, then dropped a piece of Bit-O-Honey candy onto the seat beside him.

He stared down at it. “What the heck?”

I leaned forward. “You love bees, so I thought you might like this candy too.”

“I don’t love bees, you jackass,” he said with a smirk. “I said I’m allergic to them. I told you, my mom tried to—”