More fun to dish it out than take it, huh, big shot?
Leo expertly pulled out into traffic, and with the wind in his face and pressed to Leo’s strong back, Morgan forgot to be afraid and enjoyed zooming along Ocean Parkway. They turned onto the Belt Parkway, where the waters of the Narrows sparkled, and he tightened his grip as they passed under the Verrazzano Bridge.
“It’s so cool,” he yelled in Leo’s ear. “I haven’t been this way in years. I bet it’s amazing at sunset.”
Leo didn’t answer—not that Morgan expected him to—but changed lanes, and they rode along the Belt. Leo slowed down. “Kite flyers,” he called out, and Morgan felt his eyes widen as he tracked the dips and swoops of the colorful kites in the deep blue sky and noticed the groups of people directing them from the grassy stretch of land.
Without realizing it, Morgan had snuggled up to Leo, the power of the motorcycle between his legs adding to the incredible force of attraction surging through him. He had to remind himself that Leo wasn’t a date, merely a guy who had an extra ticket to the ball game and didn’t want to go alone.
Still, it had been years since he’d felt so alive and free, and with a happy sigh, he held on to Leo’s firm, muscled body, determined to enjoy the rest of the night, whatever it might bring.
Half an hour later they pulled into the Citi Field parking lot and headed to the stadium. Morgan had been a regular with Jeffrey, not because his ex liked baseball, but because the partners at his firm were die-hard fans. Morgan was able to talk stats with them, and Jeffrey always came out of the game loving and sweet to him, as Morgan had made him look good.
“How often do you get to a game?” Morgan waited while Leo handed over the tickets. “I used to go twice a month when they were at home. My ex’s firm had box seats.” The pain he experienced when talking about Jeffrey had lessened with time, and he thought he sounded almost normal.
“Not very often. Maybe two or three times a season,” Leo said and pointed. “This way. We’re in the right field. No fancy box seats for the regular working stiffs.”
The snide tone set Morgan’s teeth on edge. “I didn’t pay for it. It was a perk he took advantage of. When I was young and my father and I came to the games, we took whatever seats we could get, and more than once I got bad sunburn from sitting in the bleachers. So stop thinking I’m a rich snob.”
“You could hardly be one, living in the building. And don’t get all wound up. I didn’t mean it as a slight. I wish I could afford them.” Leo tipped his head toward the concession stand. “Should we get something to eat?” He leaned against a post and pushed up his sunglasses.
Morgan studied the array of eateries in front of him. “Who needs the city when you can come to the ballpark and get lobster or steak?” He shook his head. “Give me a hot dog and fries anytime. That’s real ballpark food.”
“Yeah, and I always get the food early so I don’t have to wait in lines and miss half the game.”
“And be around people, I bet.”
Leo grinned. “It’s like you know me.”
Morgan’s heart took a dangerously swoony dip, and he blew out a breath.
Just a game. I’m just an extra ticket.
“Anyway, what do you want? My treat for the food since you’re doing the heavy lifting by getting us here. I’m getting two and a large fry.” The line in front of Nathan’s wasn’t long, and it had been ages since he’d had a hot dog at the game. When he’d go with Jeffrey, the firm would have trays of sushi, which he couldn’t wrap his brain around as ballpark food.
“I’ll have two also and pick off your fries.”
Horrified, Morgan shook his head. “No fucking way. Get your own. I don’t share fries, especially Nathan’s.”
“No wonder you’re divorced. Not sharing fries would be grounds for me.”
A teasing light brightened Leo’s eyes, but the words hit Morgan like a punch to the gut, and all his enjoyment fled. His stomach turned, and head down, he trudged off the line. Leo ran after him, the laughter in his face replaced by concern.
“Hey, wait up. What’s wrong? What’d I say?”
If Leo could hold his personal life close to the vest, so could Morgan. “It’s nothing. Just…stuff. Let’s go.”
“Uh, noooo. You promised me hot dogs. No take-backs.”
Morgan’s jaw dropped. “Dude. You’ve got to be kidding me. I haven’t heard that since the third grade.”
“Yeah, well, things were a hell of a lot better then, at least for me.”
Unsure what he meant, Morgan decided not to question him, especially on a Nathan’s line, and they got their food and settled into their seats.
“These are pretty good seats. I think it’s better to be up in the stands than way behind on the field. Tell your friend thank you from me.” Morgan bit into his hot dog.
“Peter and me, we try and make a few games a season. This time he was supposed to go with his wife, but with both kids sick with some stomach bug, he wasn’t going to leave her home with them and come have fun with me.”
