Page 5 of Saving The Shortstop

Or any time since.

I’m kind of hoping my brother screws up. He’d be doing the same thing if it was me out there—that’s just how we are. Too competitive for our own good, for sure. Growing up only two years apart, occasionally we’d be on the same rec teams. Most parents would see that as a bonus, only having to cart kids to one practice. My parents hated every second of it because each of us wanted to outshine the other.

When they all start to move and Dallas steps back, holding the ball in his large hand, I hit the red Record icon and watch the screen before me, making sure it’s focused on the entire play and not just the stupidly hot quarterback who I definitely do not fantasize about.

Nope. Never.

If they sucked at running this play before I got here, I’d never know it. Dallas’s throw to my brother? Flawless. And when Noah catches it, he does one of his insane footwork tricks before he takes off running, scoring a touchdown.

“Huh,” my dad says, amused. “Guess I should have you drop in more often.” He claps a few times. “Okay, fellas! Since you finally didn’t fuck it up, you’re free to go!”

I turn toward him. “Do I still have to post this? Or was that only if they looked like dog shit.”

“Yeah, that was just a threat.” He shrugs before he looks me up and down. “Why are you in full uniform anyway?”

“Picture day,” I say, waving to my uniform. “I just dropped in to see if you wanted anything at the coffee shop before I go get my afternoon pick-me-up.”

That catches his attention. “You know …” He pauses. “I would take one of those frozen coffee things with the whipped cream and all that.”

I laugh, already knowing he was going to say that. My dad loves himself some coffee treats.

“You got it!” I say, jogging away from him and heading back toward my car. I’m almost in the parking lot when Tabor catches up to me.

“Not even going to wait and give me a kiss before taking off?” he says in a teasing voice, catching my hand with his and pulling me against him.

“Sorry,” I say with a shrug. “Was just getting dad’s coffee order since he never checks his phone.”

“I’ll shower real quick and go with you,” he answers, lacing his fingers in mine. “I’ve missed you the past week.”

In the beginning, Tabor wasn’t as clingy. But lately—really, the past three or so weeks—he seems to be getting attached.

A little too attached.

“I actually have some homework to tackle after I drop Dad’s coffee back off,” I answer, only half lying. I do have an assignment … it just isn’t due till next week. But for whatever reason, I’m not feeling like hanging out with him tonight. Hanging out always means hooking up.

Disappointment flashes on his face, and he shrugs. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m pretty busy anyway but was going to make time for you.” He pulls me closer, bending down and pressing his mouth to mine. “I’ll talk to you later. Let me know if you change your mind though.”

Stepping back once his hands drop mine, I smile awkwardly and wave goodbye.

“Sounds good. Have a great night.” Uncomfortably, I clear my throat before walking away.

Feeling his gaze on my back every step to my car only proves that Tabor … may be getting a little too attached. And that means, it may be time to cut this asshole loose.

THREE

HAVEN

The first basemen, Lona, throws a ground ball my way and I charge it, letting it travel into my glove before throwing it back to her. With her leg stretched and one foot on the bag, she catches it effortlessly before tagging it to the dirt as if there was an actual runner there.

“Fall scrimmages are my favorite,” I say, enjoying the warm September sun beaming down on me. “Not too hot, not too cold. Just … perfect.” I’m not even sure who I’m talking to. I’m just … chatting.

“We’re all aware how you feel about the season, King,” Kenzie calls to me seconds before Lona throws her a grounder to field. “You’ve told us twenty-five times over the last two days.”

“And guess what? I’ll tell ya twenty-five more times today,” I call back, smirking. “No shame in my pumpkin spice season game.”

In the winter months, we have to travel way out of state to play because New England is usually under a few feet of snow. Even during our home games in early spring, we freeze our asses off. And then there’s summer, which I love playing in, but some days, it’s too hot.

Early fall is perfect. Especially days like today when it’s sixty degrees outside and partly sunny. The air feels different—almost as if it’s in its freshest, cleanest form. I can wear a T-shirt, still feel like I’m getting some vitamin D, but also spark up a warm apple pie candle when I get home.