Page 22 of Totally Fanatic

“Hey, guys. What are you up to?” Tim asks, and I bite into my burger, my taste buds exploding with the sweet relish and tangy pickles.

“Grabbing dinner. How about you?”

“Same. Oh, this is Lion. Lion, this is Ian and you sort of met Duckie already at Riverside Barbeque.”

“Hi, I’m Lion,” I mumble through chews before forcing the bite down. “I was stoked you got signed onto the team, sucks that Nate got injured, but hey, he probably had a Plan B. You all have those, right?” I ask.

“Not all of us,” Ian laughs, leaning into Duckie’s side. “This one, though, he can always go back to writing.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll move on to commentating,” Duckie says, holding up his phone to his mouth. “It’s anyone’s game as Tim steps up to bat. Will he hit it out of the park or is this the end for the Banana Ball’s golden Aussie?”

“That was great, but we all know Tim would hit it out of the park. He hit off that OG you were struck out by, remember?” I ask, and Tim laughs.

“Well, guys, we better get going. See you at training tomorrow,” Tim says.

“Yeah, nice to see you guys,” I say, and Tim and I walk away.

Tim and I head toward his place in silence as we eat. Well, mostly silence. Tim does make these soft moaning noises when he eats that has my stomach in a spin.

“It sounds like you’re enjoying that,” I say, and he pops the last bite into his mouth and mumbles through chews. “Mmm, so good. You picked a great place to grab food.” He wipes his mouthon the back of his hand. “Sorry, was I making noises? I do that sometimes when I eat.”

I shrug. “Maybe a little, but it’s okay. I make noises when I have something good in my mouth sometimes, too.”

He flashes me a grin and turns to look toward the street ahead.

“I’m sure you do. Maybe I’ll get to hear them sometime.”

“We can grab dessert from that gelato place on Fifth. I swear I always make noises when I eat there.”

“Absolutely.”

“Is it hard being away from Australia?” I ask. It’s one of the few things I really don’t know about him. He’s shared a bunch about his life back in Aus and his family. His parents travel now, so he doesn’t go back there in break or anything, but it would have to be hard leaving your home. I moved an hour away from my parents and that was hard enough.

“Sometimes. I mostly miss the beaches. Other than that, I guess Savannah isn’t that different. The people here are pretty chill just like back home. They wear shoes more here, though,” he laughs.

“Well, I’m glad you moved here. Banana Ball wouldn’t be the same without you,” I say as we turn the corner onto his street. How are we almost there already? I feel like we only just left the bodega.

“You really think I can hit a home run?” he asks, and he pauses on the sidewalk to look up at me, the streetlights illuminating the light freckles on his face and his stunning blue eyes. I stop and turn to look right into those eyes.

“Of course. You can do anything.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” I say, and we start walking again, slower this time, like he also doesn’t want this walk to end. I know for sure that I don’t. “You almost had a home run last year if it wasn’tfor that trick play the OG’s had with that people pyramid jump thing. That shouldn’t be allowed.”

“It was pretty awesome to see, though.”

“Your trick plays are better.”

Tim’s whole face lights up, and I know I have to make sure he’s always this happy. Maybe that’s why we met. Maybe I am the person who is supposed to make him happy. I can do that, right?

Chapter nine

TIM

Lion drops me offand heads home, and as I walk up the stairs to my loft, a rare calm settles over me. Talking with Lion tonight was easy. It’s like we’ve known each other for years, and when he looks at me, those wide brown eyes peer right into my soul. I used to be afraid of what someone might see if they really looked, you know, tried to see the real me. The goofy Aussie kid who has dreams of barbeque and baseball and has no clue how he got so lucky to be halfway to achieving that dream. Lion really gets it, though. He just gets me.

I push open my door, and before I can even drop my keys on the counter, the group messages start.

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