Page 67 of Hot Streak

Jackson stared morosely at Deke. “I hope it’s not that obvious.”

“No, no, I just . . .I could feel that crackle. It’s not one-sided, either, yeah?”

“It’s one-sided,” Jackson argued.

Sure, he was lying, but hopefully Deke could be persuaded to believe it.

“You want it to be one-sided. That kid is a dick, but he’s hot. I know it. You know it.”

“I wish I knew it a little less,” Jackson said grumpily.

“He’s not pushing you, is he?”

“Oh, he thinks he’s pushing me,” Jackson said. “What he doesn’t realize is I’m immune to his regular bullshit. Prancing around wearing practically nothing. Batting his eyelashes. Corny lines. I’m no fucking amateur here. I’ve got self-control.”

“But there’s more to the kid than just a pretty face, yeah?” Deke observed.

“That’s the problem—when he’s not trying.”

Deke grinned.

“You wanna switch rooms with me? I’ll tolerate his bullshit.”

Jackson shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve got this. He’ll deal with it. Millie’ll set him up with a friend when we get back to Raleigh, and this whole thing will be forgotten about.”

“You sure about that?”

He wanted to be sure about it. He wanted to believe this was fleeting. That Connor had the attention span of a gnat and soon enough, he’d start looking at someone else. But there was a part of him, deep down, that wasn’t quite so sure.

“I need to be,” Jackson said bluntly. “This can’t happen. I can’t fuck a teammate. I certainly am not going to fuck this teammate.”

“Right, right, I’m not saying you should. I’m just saying . . .I think our young Connor might want a guy for the first time in his life, and that’s not so easy to shake. You know that, same as me.”

“I’m not the first,” Jackson disagreed. He certainly didn’t think it had happened often, but he was familiar enough with cocky, I’m-a-fucking-gift-to-the-universe guys. They always experimented, because why not?

“I don’t know,” Deke said slowly. “I kinda think you might be. I’ve never seen him even look twice at another guy before. Not even the tiniest ping on my radar, and I’ve been with the guy for awhile now. Close quarters. I’d have seen it.”

“Or maybe I’m just his type.”

Deke shot him a look. “Then he’d have hit on me.”

Okay, he and Deke did look kinda alike. Jackson could see it. Similar build. Dark hair. Deke’s eyes were a lighter brown, almost like brown sugar. But yeah, if Connor was into him, he might’ve been into Deke too—a thought that hadn’t even occurred to Jackson until now.

“You didn’t think you were the first,” Deke stated, chuckling under his breath. “You thought it would pass.”

“I don’t know that I’m not,” Jackson said. But he was beginning to see it. And goddamn, that was going to make everything harder.

Connor was going to close his teeth around this and not want to let go, because he’d see it as his chance. His opportunity.

Deke reached over and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “You got this. You’re Jackson Evans. You know the score. You’re not gonna let him get to you . . .and if he does, then you know I can help.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed.

On one hand, it was easier now that Deke knew.

On the other, he did not want Deke to intervene. He was fucking hiding from Connor, and yet he also didn’t want to switch roommates.

Was he not willing to give up the extra opportunities to mold the kid into a major league pitcher? Or was it more?

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