Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I grab it, pull it on, then stretch my arm to the backseat. “Same for you. Your hair is a mess.”
A grin tugs at his sexy mouth. “A good mess,” he says, and that makes my stomach flip. “Put it on me.”
I put the cap on him as he drives, and the moment is strangely intimate as I adjust it by his ears.
“If anyone asks, you were out for a walk,” Declan continues. “And just to be safe, I’ll come in a few minutes later. I’ll say I had to go to CVS for something.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He slows the car as we near the hotel, shooting me a once-over. “Not gonna lie. You look like sex, rookie.”
I chuckle. “Not gonna lie. I feel like sex too.”
His sly grin makes me smile too.
A minute later, he pulls up, and I get out without a second glance, walking the final block to the hotel entrance in the warm Arizona night, my erection finally, finally disappearing.
The glass doors slide open, and I go inside. The hotel is quiet, but I take the stairs anyway, just to be safe.
Just in case Coach’s spring training vice lines up timewise with mine.
When I hit the sixth floor, I turn down the hallway, then blow out a long breath as I reach my room. I shut the door in a daze.
Did that just happen?
And what will happen tomorrow?
No idea, but I know this much. Tonight, there’s something I plan to tell him.
Because I know now exactly what I want, no matter the risks.
I haven’t forgotten how forbidden we are. He’s more off-limits than anyone else in the world. And really, of all the queer men on the planet, why does the guy I want so damn badly have to be my teammate?
I wish I knew.
But one thing I do know with absolute certainty.
I want to sleep with Declan. I’m ready.
There are no questions.
I take a piss, wash my hands and strip out of my clothes.
When I sink down on the bed, my mind returns to the car.
Tonight was the hottest night of my life and he didn’t even touch my dick. As I replay what we did, I’m instantly aroused, and my reaction to the shortstop validates what I’m about to do.
But first, I’m going to give him what he wants.
I grab my phone.
14
Declan
I cut the engine, but I don’t get out. I just breathe.
I rest my head against the back of the seat and stare out the windshield. A desert willow tree looms at the edge of the lot, and as I study the leaves, how they blow faintly in the night breeze, a pair of unblinking eyes watches me from a low branch.
An owl.
Rare sighting in Arizona. Rare sighting anywhere.
But only if you don’t look.
I always look.
When I was a little kid, I used to believe the owls were looking out for me. That they’d invite me to their homes, take me under their wings, so to speak.
It was a vivid childhood fantasy, one I needed for my own escape from my father and his habits.
My fantasies are different now, but even so, I’m still drawn to birds.
Some say owls are a sign of wisdom.
I’m not sure I was wise tonight.
Others say an owl means you should face your fears, reveal your secrets.
What was once my biggest secret—liking men—I revealed, so I’ve got no worries there.
I draw a deep breath, staring at the winged animal. The owl doesn’t look away. His eyes are challenging, like he can see inside me.
Like he knows my new secret.
Knows that I am struggling mightily. That kissing the rookie did nada to get him out of my system. I only want more of him.
And yet, I need to be strong.
I’ve got to live with this struggle, find a way through it. It can’t be harder than the other shit I’ve dealt with. From my father, to my own fuckups, to being one of the first openly gay athletes in baseball.
Even to Kyle and the trouble that came with the end of that relationship. The trouble that rattles through my life now and again, like late last season when I ran into him as he was signing up for a membership at my regular gym in San Francisco. He acted surprised that I worked out there. But it turned out my trainer had posted a pic of our workout online as he was hunting for other pro-athlete clients.
I chatted with Kyle to be polite, and he quickly mentioned he was single again. And did I want to go out for a drink? Or a not-drink, he added, since he knew I didn’t touch the stuff.
I declined, found a new gym, and hired a new trainer.
But that’s the last I heard from Kyle. As for Nathan, he never tried to get in touch with me after that epic fight on my front steps earlier this year. Emma told me in a text that his show was renewed and he was going to start shooting in Georgia next week, once he finished his family time in Florida.