Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“How could I forget?” I certainly can’t, but I can enjoy that memory now that it’s good again.
Better than good.
That’s life with Declan in it.
My life was good before. Hell, my life was great.
Now, it’s even better.
That night, Declan calls for no reason. “Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says.
“That’s the best reason to call.”
I tell him about the triple lift, and he laughs. “Maybe I’ll get that going here too. Tucker and Brady would get a kick out of it,” he says. “You’d think by now the word would get out and spoil the prank.”
“Or maybe the rookies keep quiet so they can keep up the tradition when they’re the veterans.”
Declan chuckles again, faint and fond. “I can still picture the way you were smiling that day,” he says.
“You might have had something to do with my mood.”
“Let’s keep that up.”
“Works for me.”
When I hit my first home run of spring training, my guy texts me a surprise that night.
* * *
Declan: Let’s play a game. Every time you get a hit, I’ll send you your favorite kind of selfie. You in?
* * *
Grant: All in.
* * *
Declan: Great, here you go.
* * *
The image loads as I walk from the shower into the living area of my hotel suite. The shot is so damn sexy I have to grab hold of the wall so I don’t fall over. It’s Declan unsnapping his jeans, pushing down his boxer briefs, and sliding his hand down his hard length.
I flop down on the couch and FaceTime him, stat.
“Yes, I am going to hit a homer tomorrow,” I say when I see his face.
“Happy to inspire you to go long,” he says.
Then we get inspired together, talking dirty, acting dirtier, till we come together.
It’s a beautiful sight. The way we lose control for each other is a dream come true.
Especially when we come down from our FaceTime high and Declan shoots me that easy grin. “Want to know what I miss the most?”
“Tell me.”
“Kissing you,” he says, kind of dreamy.
“I can’t wait for your lips,” I tell him, feeling stupid in lust and stupid in love at the same time.
It becomes a thing. The better I play, the more the reward.
I’ve always been highly motivated when it comes to baseball. But Declan’s method of positive reinforcement sends that to a whole new level. I have the best spring training ever, and it carries over into Opening Day. I go two-for-four at the plate, and we get our official World Series rings in a pre-game ceremony.
Across the country, Declan knocks in two runs, and the Comets win as well. That night, I call and ask about his game. But he’s more interested in the ring ceremony, so I give him all the details.
“Send me a pic of your ring.”
I do as he asks, and a few seconds later, he hums. “I want one of those,” he says, abject longing in his voice.
“You’ll get one. I know it,” I assure him.
“I don’t know—I’ve been playing for ten years and haven’t even made it to a World Series. Who knows how long I’ll play?”
I sit up straighter in bed. “You’re not thinking of retiring, are you?” I don’t want Declan to hang up his cleats early. He has so much game left in him.
“No way. You’ll have to pull me off the diamond kicking and screaming.” He laughs lightly, but wistfully. “All I’m saying is you never know what’s going to happen. Every year feels like it could be my last.”
“I get what you mean, but I don’t believe it. You’re only thirty-one. You’re going to be playing for a long time. I can feel it.”
“Long enough for you to come to one of my games and root for me?” His voice pitches upward hopefully.
I latch onto that note. “Is that something you want? Me in the stands?”
“Yeah. I do want that.” A happy sigh rumbles over the phone. “I have this fantasy of seeing you in the stands, of us locking eyes. Of calling my shot and hitting a homer for you.”
I laugh, truly tickled by that image. “And when you cross home plate, you’ll jog over to me. I’ll lean over and give you a big smacker. Is that your fantasy too?”
He groans, long and low. “I want that. Badly.” After a moment, he shifts his tone. “Seriously, though, I would love it if you were at one of my games. You don’t even have to kiss me. Just knowing you’re there would rock my world.”
“You know what’s amazing? When someone tells you what he wants. When you know you can give it to him.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes. I would. I want to rock your world, Declan Steele.”
“You definitely do.”
“And I am sure someday you’ll have a ring.”
And I’ll be at that game, cheering you on.