Page 18 of Pitcher Perfect

I had to admit he was a gifted cook. At least for that one type of food. Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said I’d barely paused to chew the sandwich. I hoped his skills would translate to the kind of food we needed to have a real chance in the competition. I’d looked up the last ten years of winners and knew the fares ranged from street food to dishes one would find in the kind of fancy restaurants that had served flavored foam. At the end of the day, the food and beer needed to taste amazing and provide a unified experience.

It already felt like ages since I’d seen Caleb, witnessed his smile and hearty laugh, watched the teasing glint in his eyes. It had only beenhours. After living with the regret of not slipping him my number, I was hungry for more while he was within reach. I didn’t want to let him out of my sight like last time.

The next two days would be brutal. Two days was forever to wait to learn more about his skills, his interests, and why he’d come to Dahlia Springs. I could text him, but that reeked of a desperation I wouldn’t cave to. I glanced at my computer as I passed it for the hundredth time.

Maybe I didn’t need to wait that long to learn more about him. Googling wouldn’t be snooping. It was simply some background research to prepare for our next meeting.

I pulled the chair away from my desk and sat. Within moments, I had a screen full of results—articles from major publications in the Portland area, an interview with a television station, and lots of social media posts from people praising his food.

I lost myself to reading about Caleb. His food had a 4.7 average on Yelp with raving and lengthy reviews. Impressive.And a profile about how he’d grown his food truck to one of the most beloved in his long-running pod. Another article talked about the sale of the land Caleb had mentioned. He was even quoted as a representative of the pod. I stared at the photo of him talking to a reporter in front of his truck. I had to admit, he was a good-looking man.

Knuckles rapping on my doorframe startled me.

“Shower’s free,” Ethan said before going into his room across the hall and closing the door.

I gathered my things and went to take a shower before bed. While scrubbing my body, I tried to focus on his professional skills and background, but my brain homed in on Caleb himself. I couldn’t ignore the way I reacted to him. As I washed my balls, I thought about how Caleb’s gaze had traveled appreciatively over my body when I’d approached the table, how he’d looked so damn happy and licked his lips when I’d made it clear I remembered him. Or how his attention lingered on my face and tattoos as we talked. We had enough chemistry between us to earn me a degree in the subject.

My dick took interest and sent an invitation to party, so I gave it a tug. I tried to picture the hot porn video I watched the other day with some burly bear of a man rimming the hell out of a tiny dude. Despite my attempts to recall the way the ginger laved over the guy’s hole and nuts, my traitorous brain put Caleb’s face there—put Caleb’s tongue all over my ass, teasing me, dipping his fingers in alongside his tongue, pressing against my taint, reaching under me to stroke my cock.

I groaned, then bit my lip to stop any more sounds from coming out. The insulation in Dom’s house left a lot to be desired. Perhaps if I let my dick have a win, I could get Caleb out of my mind and resume thinking about all the work I had to do.

With firm strokes, I let myself imagine what Caleb would taste like, how he would kiss, how his lips would fit against mine, the sounds he would make when I made him come so fucking hard he saw stars.

I slammed my palm against the shower wall and curled forward while thinking about Caleb directing me, ordering me to bend over my desk at the brewery, yanking down my pants and sucking me off between the tanks, telling me not to make a sound so no one would come to investigate, sucking my brains through my cock until I came, looking up at me with a cheeky smile.

My balls tightened as I came over my fingers. As the evidence of my fantasy washed down the drain, I finished rinsing the soap from my body. Wanking over a guy I’d had two conversations with was pathetic with a capital P.How am I going to look him in the eyes when I see him?

After drying off and throwing on some comfy clothes, I walked back to my room and found Ethan sitting at my computer. The man’s “respect” for my privacy needed recalibration.

“Pretty sure I locked that.”

Ethan slowly spun in my chair like the villain in a Bond film. His elbows rested on the arms of my computer chair as he steepled his fingers under his chin. “You did.”

I shook my head. “Do I even want to know how you know my password?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

I was still salty at how he and Ty had cracked my phone’s passcode and used my Grindr account while I was knee-deep in brewing one day. Finding a dozen unsolicited dick pics awaiting me wasn’t the best way to spend an evening. Most of them were poorly lit and blurry. They should at least put a little effort into it if they wanted to use their dicks to get a hookup.

I sighed and sat at the foot of my bed. “Enjoy your snooping?”

Ethan’s crooked smile widened. “Immensely. Enjoy your cyberstalking?”

I huffed. “It’s not cyberstalking. It’s research.”

He turned toward the screen and clicked to open the Instagram account for Caleb’s food truck where I’d left it. “Oh? Needed to go back three years for that information? What are you researching? How to get him to suck your dick, or how fast you can get him to file a restraining order?”

I kicked at his shin. “Fuck off.”

“Are you gonna ask him out?”

“Why would I?”

Ethan leveled a glare at me. “Not only does the guy you damn near strangled me over cockblocking you happen to show up in your town, but he’ll be working with you on a huge project. It’s like the universe is saying, ‘Hey, man, we’ve fucked you over a few times, so here’s a freebie.’ You both lit up like a Griswold Christmas display when you saw each other.”

I squashed the joy that bubbled up at his words. “I can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

Ethan sighed. I knew that sigh. It was the sigh that said he was tired of my bullshit. “You always have an excuse when it comes to dating.”

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