Page 148 of Hot Streak

Still. The last thing he wanted to do was sit around and pretend he wasn’t dying for Jackson to touch him.

But he could have one drink, at least. Right?

He could have some kind of self-control.

Or at least that was what Connor kept telling himself as they walked over to the Strike Zone.

“You okay?” Jackson asked, leaning in and murmuring directly in his ear as he set his beer down in front of him.

“Fine,” Connor said, trying to sound casual and calm.

But Jackson knew him better than just about anybody now, and his gaze told Connor that he wasn’t convinced. Not even close.

“You’re looking a little wild. Flushed.” Jackson made a little gesture towards his face.

“I can’t imagine why.”

Jackson chuckled. “One drink, right?”

“If they let you leave it there,” Connor proclaimed darkly. Which wasn’t fair, really. He wanted Jackson to be lauded and celebrated. He wanted him to be properly honored.

Just not right now, not when he felt like he was ready to crawl out of his skin with unsatisfied desire, just from the way Jackson kept looking at him, like he knew what had been under his pants, earlier, and what was under his shorts, now.

“Listen, when I set the record, we’ll party all night long.”

“You, really?” Connor teased, and Jackson rolled his eyes.

“I mean it. But I just tied the record today. Sure, I’m in the history books, now, officially, but I want more. And I’m not going to be satisfied til I get it.”

“You think you can hit one more?” Connor asked, even though he knew from the confident set of Jackson’s shoulders what his answer was going to be.

Jackson nodded.

“It’s a date then. Tomorrow night. We’ll grab the win, you’ll grab your home run, and we’ll party like we’re heading to the playoffs—which we’ll be doing,” Connor said with a grin. “Now . . .drink up, because we got a different kind of party I’m dying to get to.”

“I bet it’s the same party I’m dying to get to,” Jackson said, the corner of his mouth quirking up, after he’d taken an extra-long sip of his beer.

“So,” Charlie said, settling down in the chair opposite Connor, “you two, then.”

Connor didn’t miss how Jackson’s gaze immediately shifted to him. Like whatever he said, it was going to be all his decision.

He wouldn’t say coming out was easy—it was easier if he thought of this as more of a “I’m in love with Jackson Evans” confession than a “turns out I’m actually bisexual” confession—but it did seem to get easier.

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Me and Jackson.”

Jackson’s hand settled on his shoulder and he squeezed once. Not a huge demonstration, but enough of one that it was clear where he stood, too.

“Well, I never would’ve called that. Happy for you two, but surprised.”

“Nobody’s more surprised than us,” Jackson admitted.

Connor laughed. “That’s true.”

He’d certainly been pretty damn surprised.

“And you’ve got a bunch of consulting gigs lined up, haven’t you?” Charlie said, turning his attention to Jackson. “You gonna consult for this guy, too?”

Jackson grinned. Shot Connor a glance that felt as intimate as a touch.

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