Page 141 of Commander in Briefs

“Fishing for compliments already, are we?” My mouth quirks up and in my best Miyagi impression I respond, “You did good, Danielson. Miyagi teach you well.” I wink so he knows I’m joking with the last part. I may give him pointers but he certainly has built his empire with talent and knowledge all on his own.

He slides through the narrow aisles, his cleats chipping away at the concrete walkway. “Excuse me,” he begs politely to our rowmates. They move over, opened-mouthed.

When he reaches me, his dirt-stained hand immediately clutches my hip, staining my white jersey. “You made it,” he mutters almost to himself.

I loop my arms around his sweaty neck, pulling him closer. “I made it.” I nuzzle my face into his shoulder. He reeks of earth and sweat but at this moment, he could smell like manure and I would still think he was the hottest thing to grace this planet. Fantastic job on this one, God!

We stand there for several minutes, reveling in each other’s embrace. I’m fully aware of the thousands of eyes that watch our little show of affection, but I don’t care. They will not take this moment away from me. Before long, Hayes clears his throat.

Theo pulls away first and with a smile greets Hayes for the first time. “Glad you could make it, man.” They shake hands and talk smack to each other for a moment before laughing it off.

With no available seat for Theo, I’m seconds away from bribing the family next to us to move but Theo beats me to it. He pushes me into Hayes and flops down in my seat.

Okay.

I’m about to shove Hayes over when Theo yanks on my jersey abruptly, causing me to fall ungracefully into his lap saying, “You are blocking this gentleman’s view, Ans. Sit down.” He gives a chin tip to the guy behind us like he just did him a solid.

What? I was sitting down. He was the one who came over here causing a ruckus. He should be in the damn dugout, not here with us mere mortals. I scowl but let him pull me to his chest. His slight rumble of laughter makes me smile under protest. “You’re an asshole,” I mutter.

That just makes him laugh even more. “Watch the game, Dr. McCallister.”

Ten minutes into the eighth inning, Theo can no longer hold in his animation. “Clark digs in. O’Brien winds. He delivers down the middle. Sttrriike!”

Our neighboring seatmates roar in laughter at Theo’s play-by-play.

“Clark steps in. He’s looking for a change-up. O’Brien takes the signal. The wind. And it’s just outside. Two and two.”

I huff, annoyed and amused with Theo’s shenanigans.

“Come on, Phil! You know that was a strike!” Theo yells.

Phil doesn’t acknowledge his remark.

“Clark! You suck! I could have hit that with a whiffle bat.” Theo is highly amused when Clark, with a full count, digs in with a half-smile, half-glare in his direction.

With a swing and miss, Clark is retired. Theo howls and joins in with the crowd doing the “Macarena.” He is wholeheartedly enjoying the fan experience. I doubt that he has been on this side of the fence in over a decade. That makes my heart hurt, realizing he loves watching baseball probably more than he loves playing it. I should have picked up on this before now. I should have known when he started hinting around that he wanted to quit baseball that something was really wrong with him.

Shame coats my stomach as I digest the reality in front of me. I should have spent more time experiencing things that Theo loves—most importantly, doing them with him. Not constantly coaching him to do what Ithoughthe loved.

I’m going to fix this.

I am going to start bringing this little hot mess of terror to some ball games. And we are going to be purely spectators. It’s time we got back to our roots.

At the top of the ninth, Thor interrupts Theo’s comedic bantering with instructions to pack it in. Theo looks disappointed but does what he’s told, for once.

“Come with me?” He stands, his hand outstretched.

Uh, ‘tis no fool here.

I clasp his hand and tug Hayes behind me. When we reach the aisle, we are swarmed with fans. Security pushes them back but we are quickly overrun again.

Theo looks back at me with a gleam in his eyes. “Hop on.”

And I do. Right onto the sculpted back that I rake nail marks into routinely. He lifts me higher, grabbing under my knees to keep hold.

“Try and keep up,” he barks at Hayes before taking off at a full sprint.

I hear Thor swear before launching after us. The click-clacks of Theo’s cleats echo throughout the stadium as he runs. I am smiling like a fool. Because, seriously. I am riding on a sweaty pitcher’s back like some kind of schoolgirl. Security is running behind us, trying to keep up. And the crowd is going fucking insane.

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