Chapter 2

This close Rob notices he’s kind of cute, even though the brim of his cap shades his eyes. Nice lips, wide mouth, even teeth. Am I staring again?

He thinks he might be.

“Hey yourself. Looking for this?” Rob tosses him the ball, which the guy catches in both hands. “I should get back.”

He doesn’t say to work, but it’s implied. But when he takes a step towards the exit, the guy comes closer. “Wait. You work here?”

Rob sort of shrugs. It isn’t no, exactly, but it really isn’t yeseither. “I should go.”

The guy advances, ball held out like an offering. When Rob reaches for it, he finds his hand caught up in a hearty shake instead. “I’m Mike. Mike Hennessey, shortstop. Come on, sit down a minute. You like the game?”

That’s an understatement, but Rob lets himself be led into the nearest row, where he sinks down onto the concrete bench. Mike scoots in next to him and hands over the ball. “This is yours, man. You went after it, fair and square. If this was a game—”

“It’s just practice.” Rob takes the ball anyway, and as he does, he notices an elastic support bandage wrapped around Mike’s wrist. Pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead, he asks, “What’s wrong with your arm?”

Mike flexes his fingers. They’re long and thin like a pianist’s, with short, blunt nails and part of a star tattoo on the back of his hand, half-hidden by the bandage. “Ganglion cyst,” he explains. “I had it cut out earlier in the season and missed most of our games. You probably noticed I didn’t bat.”

Rob nods. Because they’re looking at the bandage, he thinks it won’t appear too bad if he takes Mike’s arm in hand and kneads it a little. Strong, muscled. When he accidentally brushes over the thumb, Mike’s skin feels electric beneath his. “Will you be able to play this week?”

For a long moment, Mike doesn’t answer. Rob glances up and sees the baseball cap Mike wears is pushed back, exposing his eyes. Hazel, an odd shade somewhere between blue and brown, the laugh lines etched in his skin giving him the look of a permanent squint. He stares at Rob’s hand where it holds his, and bites one corner of his lower lip between his teeth. Watching, as if mesmerized. Lost in thought.

Rob suspects he isn’t the only one who felt the jolt when they touched.

With a gentle squeeze on Mike’s hand, Rob brings him back to the present. “How long are you in town?”

A slow grin spreads across Mike’s face. This close Rob realizes what he thought were shadows on Mike’s cheeks is the hint of stubble. When Mike’s eyes meet his, Rob sees his own thoughts mirrored in their bright depths. “A week or so,” he admits. “You from around here?”

“Born and raised,” Rob says. He still holds Mike’s hand. The bandage has grown warm beneath his touch.

“What’d you say to showing a new guy around tonight?” Mike asks. It sounds casual, but there’s an undercurrent to his words Rob hears loud and clear. “Maybe there’s a place we can grab a bite to eat, get to know each other a bit better. Somewhere quiet, where we can be alone…”

Yep, Rob knows what he’s hinting at. A thrill runs through him at the thought of getting a piece of action later. “There’s a bar in the West End I think you’d like. If you’re thinking what I’mthinking…”

That grin cranks up a notch; those eyes glisten flirtatiously. Mike curls his fingers around Rob’s. “I’m pretty sure we’re on the same wavelength here.”

“When’s practice end?” Rob asks. Not soon enough

Mike glances at the clock on the scoreboard across the field. “Six or so. We’re staying at the Hyatt down the street. How about you pick me up out front around, say, seven thirty? That’ll give me time to shower and change.”

Rob runs his gaze over Mike, noting the dusty baseball jersey beneath his windbreaker and the smudge of sweat around his neck. “You look fine to me. I like athletic types.”

With a laugh, Mike rubs his cheeks with his free hand. “At least let me shave this shit off. I didn’t bother this morning. If I’d have known there’d be someone here worth looking good for, I would’ve taken the time.”

“Seven thirty it is.” Rob gives Mike’s hand a final shake and stands. With his back to the field, he edges past Mike to the aisle, pausing directly in front of the shortstop. “See you then.”

Mike stares at Rob’s crotch, now the same level as his eyes, then lets his gaze trail up, up, upto meet Rob’s. Damnif he doesn’t lick his lips. “I can’t wait.”

Honestly? Neither can Rob.