Page 45 of Relief Pitcher

I ground my teeth at the horrific historical inaccuracy, unable to fight my agitation. “That’s not true.” I leaned over the bar to look around Cooper. “There’s evidence dating as far back as Mesopotamia. Beer was brewed all over the world for a long time.”

The guy gave me a dismissive look. “Pretty sure you’re wrong, man. I saw something online about it.”

“I own a brewery,man.” I took way too much pleasure from the way his eyes widened.

Not the best idea to make league enemies off the field on day one. I flashed my charming but professional smile. “Sorry. Whenever I hear someone talking about beer, I turn into an asshole fact-checking robot. Hazard of the job. I’m an owner of Tap That Brewery in Dahlia Springs.”

“Oh. That’s cool. Will have to check out the brewery sometime.” He looked between me and Coop, and one side of his mouth curved into a resigned smile. “Nice to meet you guys. I’m gonna go check in with my team and celebrate. Catch you next time we play against each other.”

“See ya.” That might’ve come out a skosh too cheerful. I knocked my smug smile down to neutral when Cooper turned to me.

His eyes danced with laughter. “I was wondering how long it would take you to say something.”

“You knew I was standing here?”

Cooper leaned forward until his nose brushed my ear. I fought a shiver. “I know what you smell like.” I couldn’t stop that shiver.

I cleared my throat. I wasn’t supposed to get a hard-on from Cooper. I wassupposedto be moving on to the next guy and appreciating the fun we had for what it was while helping him find someone else.

“Oops. Wingperson fail.” My voice was thready.

Cooper lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to hold back a laugh. Something was lurking behind his charmed and slightly exasperated smile. Something that made me lean toward him.

“There’re a ton of guys in here though. I’ll help you find someone who isn’t packing a beast big enough to require reconstructive jaw surgery.”

Cooper busted out laughing. “Can you even imagine? That guy needs his own OnlyFans.”

“I’d subscribe.”

“Honestly? Same. Getting to see the dick without hearing him butcher the prestigious adult beverage industry is a win for us all.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as I turned so my back was against the bar. Coop spun around on his stool to face the same way.

“We need a game sign for it.”

“For what?” He had a curious smile.

“For people packing heat. It was killing me not being able to acknowledge it during the game. If I could see it clearly, I can’t imagine the front-row seat you got.”

Coop let out a hearty laugh, which shook his thick belly. I’d spent some quality time with that belly. “If I looked hard enough, I could see it twitch.”

“How about this?” I curved my fingers to form aC, like gripping a thick shaft, and then I waved my fingertips from pinky to thumb. “Like playing a skin flute. Get it?”

He snorted. “I hate to say it, but yeah, I get it. And it works. Skin flute signal is going in the books.”

“All right.” I grinned and jutted my chin toward the digital jukebox. “What about that guy over there with the Mariners hat? Would you go for him?”

“He looks like he loves to talk about Bitcoin.”

I chuckled. “The twink over there wearing turquoise? He’s cute.”

“He ordered a Cosmo with cotton candy in it. I hate cotton candy. Thoughts on him?” He gestured to a decent-looking guy with a receding hairline who wore a jersey for one of the other teams in the league.

“Did you see how he was checking his phone while he was in the outfield? No way. You need someone who’s going to give you and your body all their attention.”

“And him? Heading to the stairs?” Coop asked.

I clocked the guy in question. He had thick blond hair that reached the top of shoulders broad enough to make a Greek sculptor cry. I tried to find a flaw as the guy descended the stairs to the lower part of the bar, where there was music and dancing, but I couldn’t come up with anything.

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