Page 133 of Hot Streak

“Thanks,” Connor retorted.

“Your issues were all mental. Nick’s a mess. He needs a lot of work on his fundamentals. They’re all over the place.”

“Andy must be enjoying himself.”

“If that’s what we’re calling it.”

It occurred to Connor while he was missing the Rogues, maybe they weren’t really missing him. Sounded like they’d replaced him, and everything.

That was the thing about baseball. There was always another body eager to take your place.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. It had never bothered him before. But now, it kinda did.

“So, you got a new project then.”

“Don’t get that jealous tone with me. If I’m gonna let Alejandro take care of you, you can deal with me working with Nick. You know there’s only one pitcher with a stick up his ass that I want, and it’s you.”

Connor knew Jackson was right; he was being very stupid. Vulnerable, maybe, and in love for the first goddamn time in his life, but stupid, still.

“Alejandro’s good, yeah, but you gotta know, he’s not you, Jackson.”

“Don’t say that,” Jackson warned.

“But it’s true,” Connor protested.

“We’re kinda fucked, aren’t we?” Jackson said with a resigned sigh.

Connor laughed. “You’re just now realizing that, huh?”

“Oh, darlin’, I knew it from the moment I walked in and they said your name.”

“The way you’re attacking the plate these days is something else,” Andy said, leaning against the dugout fence next to Jackson.

“Gotta make the most of my chances,” Jackson said modestly.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Andy sounded amused.

But despite his words, Jackson knew during the last few games, he’d been on a tear. It was an irony, because he’d been so upset after he’d fought with Connor and he’d left, and even after they’d mended things, he still missed him like a limb he’d lost. But streaks didn’t always make logical sense, and even though he’d been hurting inside, Jackson knew he’d never played better baseball. Like his misery had honed his skills to a fine edge.

He’d hit two home runs during this home stand and was actually drawing closer to the record than he’d imagined he would. He still wouldn’t let himself believe it might happen—even as he wanted it more desperately than he ever had before—but it was beginning to feel inevitable.

He’d asked Mikey if the record was why he was in so much lately, but Mikey had shot him a look and said, “You know better than that. Charlie needs to see what a catcher does with a pitcher. He let Connor walk all over him, and the others are headin’ that way. Plus, you’re hitting fucking great. It would be stupid if I kept you on the bench.”

“Isn’t baseball funny?” Andy continued.

They watched as TJ swung his bat and hit a little flare single over the right fielder’s head.

“How so?”

Andy glanced over at him. “You’ve been pissy since Connor left.”

“I—”

“No,” Andy said. “We both know I’m not stupid, so don’t act like I am. That boy is obsessed with you, and you’re half-obsessed with him, too.”

Jackson hated the shame that unfurled inside him. He didn’t want to feel it, not about Connor. But he’d fooled around with a teammate. While not expressly forbidden, it was still not a great idea.

Connor no longer being with the Rogues didn’t mean he was off the hook.

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