Page 37 of Catching Feels

Shut up, Bennett, I think.

Josh Henley, one of the relief pitchers, and Brady Masters, the other catcher, are standing there, looking down, but I know damn well they want to do fucking flips and shit, as well they should.

Masters looks at me out of the corner of his eye. I dip my chin, hoping he’s reading that I’m good with it.

“Batting order’s the same as last game. Now, go warm up.”

I nod at Masters to follow me and start heading to do warmups.

As soon as Bennett releases his first pitch, I know it’s perfect, but not good for us.

Happ rails it right between center and left, where both AJ and Locke are too far away to catch it, but AJ manages to scoop it and gun it to Rome, ensuring he doesn’t get to second.

“Thought this kid was good?” Olsen says as he steps up to the plate.

Typically, I don’t respond to shit talk, but this asshole deserves it.

“He is. That was a welcome gift; don’t get used to it.”

I signal to Bennett that this one needs to be taught a lesson, and he delivers a splinter. Olson catches it, and it soars just above Bennett’s head. He leaps in the air, snags` it, then guns it to first, where Pope easily tags Happ out.

“Fuck,” Olsen mumbles.

“Welcome to Jersey,” I call to him as he stomps toward the visitors’ dugout.

I look at Bennett and give him a big ass smile. He bites back his own and rolls his neck before delivering three strikes.

I walk in slow so Bennett can catch up.

“Killed it, man.”

“Fucked up the first one,” he admits.

“Being out half the game only means one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“We win it in the first four.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bennett?”

He looks at me.

“We gotta dance for the fans before we hit.”

He rolls his eyes. “You and your superstitions.”

I point to his socks. “People wearing kitten socks from college under the ones issued shouldn’t throw stones.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“You’re my pitcher, friend, and my brother, Bennett—I know every reaction before you even know you’re going to react.”

“I fucked up last night.”

“You got drunk last night. Fuck last night. Last night was shit. Tonight, we play, we win, and we do it again the night after that, and after that, and keep this going. Wash, rinse, and repeat. We good?”

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