Page 38 of Relief Pitcher

I’d always been able to compartmentalize when it came to men. When I was horny, I fucked. Otherwise, I focused on other shit going on in my life. I didn’t understand craving more than that. So I did what I’d perfected over a decade ago: shut my brain off, shut the real world out, and moved my body.

Coach took us through a few warm-up drills before getting us going in a light scrimmage. Since I was there to fill in for their usual pitcher, they threw me right into the deep end.

I palmed the ball that was larger than I was used to and had to remind myself to throw underhand and not as fast as I could. I misjudged the release, and it went too low. Okay, so I might’ve beena bitcocky about how well my baseball skills translated to the softball field. I might have to convince Dom to practice with me. Or I could ask Cooper.

I shook my head and threw again. Closer to the target but far enough away that mortification lurked in the wings. I ignored Coach rubbing his temple while mumbling to himself. The woman on first base jogged over and gave me a few pointers, which I appreciated.

My pitching could use some work, but by the time it was my turn to bat, I’d warmed up.

“Nice hit.” Coop swatted my ass after I ran home to score the fourth point for our team.

“I always get to home base.” I winked. The flirting came as naturally as breathing.

The heat in Coop’s eyes was unmistakable. I panicked. Not because of said heat—I’d been eye-fucked like that countless times—but it was the fire licking up my spine that unsettled me.The fuck?

Despite that, after the game ended and we packed up, I found myself walking back to the parking lot with Coop. I should’ve made my excuses and bolted out of there, but my legs kept pace with him.

“I’m not ready to head back to the woods yet. Up for grabbing a drink?”

I shouldn’t. I needed to create distance, given how I was reacting to him. “Yeah. I know just the place.”

* * *

COOPER

The best partabout sitting across from Ty at a high-top table was that the chances of me getting caught checking out his ass and wondering what kind of underwear he was wearing were slim to none. I’d been distracted nearly the entire practice because my attention kept wandering to him. He might not have caught me, but I figured others had.

“You’ll like this place,” Ty said as he pushed a beer menu my way.

A U-shaped bar dominated the taproom at the center, with high tops full of people scattered around the rest of the space. There were a lot of warm tones between the furniture and decor, and classic rock played over the sound system. My favorite part was the scent of something charbroiled. Yum. The protein bar I’d scarfed on the way over might not last long.

“Do you know a lot of brewers in the area?” I glanced over the menu but would probably ask for Ty’s recommendation. I liked beer well enough, but I was far from a connoisseur.

“Yeah, it’s a small industry. We’ve tried to get to know folks who run the breweries close to Dahlia Springs. It’s good to have the professional connections.”

I glanced at Ty while he looked at the beer list and tried to gauge whether he was happy to be there with me or had accepted out of politeness. I doubted Ty did much he didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help but wonder. I’d waded into new territory. The invitation had spilled from my mouth with no forethought. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be alone together, given how I still reacted to him, but I was a glutton for punishment.

“Tyler McNeill. To what do I owe the pleasure?” An attractive, tall silver fox with russet skin approached.

“Darrell! Good to see you, man. Looks like business is going well.” Ty was so damn gregarious. It was intoxicating being the center of his attention.

“We got a nice write-up in an online brewery publication, and we’ve seen increased foot traffic.”

“I saw that one. Great piece. You got some good quotes in there about your summer brews.”

He leaned against the table. “How are things going over at Tap That?”

“Fantastic. We just locked down a deal to expand to a few more Fred Meyer locations and are gearing up to do a circuit of a few summer festivals.”

Darrell whistled and rocked back on his heels. “Impressive. You guys are really taking the scene by storm.”

Tyler’s smile conveyed the perfect balance of humility and pride.

My respect for Ty grew as I witnessed his professionalism and magnetism in action. Brewery Ty differed from the goofy, funny guy I’d been getting to know. There was a lot more to Ty that I wanted to learn.

“I’m sorry. We’ve been standing here talking shop, and Ty is being rude and hasn’t introduced us.” Darrell held out his hand. I shook it, and his grasp lingered.

“This is Cooper. We’re playing on the Portland Metro Queer Softball League together.”

---