Page 58 of Honeysuckle
He threw the ball without a word, he barely even set up, but he put his hand in the air as the crowd's chorus of boo’s turned to cheers for him. We needed them on our side, and I appreciated the effort he was putting in despite clearly being very uncomfortable.
I did the coin toss after the national anthem played, before making my way to the rowdy dugout with the rest of the team. I looked over at Josh, but he avoided my gaze and continued to bother with the laces on his glove.
“What the hell was that?” I asked Cael, sliding down onto the bench beside him.
“No idea, but whatever it was, it’s got him in knots, and that’s not good for us. This game was already going to be a hard win… without Josh in focus…” Cael’s tongue ran along his bottom lip, and he pushed up from the bench. “We’re going to have to play a lot of defense today.” He nodded.
Unfortunately, he was right.
I needed to give Josh a reason to loosen up. I needed smug, asshole Josh for this game, not whatever tangled ball of yarn he had turned into since stepping on the field.
“Hey.” I passed by Josh, then stopped. “Come here.”
“What?” He scoffed at me, his brows coming together in confusion.
“Stand up, tough guy,” I said; a feeble attempt to push his buttons.
“You’re getting on my nerves today, Tuck.” He pushed from the bench, making his way over to me, and his eyes trailed my arm to where I was pointing into the stands.
Mark stood with Zoey, who was decked out in Hornets’ gear with a bright smile on her pretty face. The introduction had gone perfectly and Mark was more than willing to ‘keep Zoey entertained’for the game. They both waved down at us and Mark gave Josh an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“You brought him down here?” Josh said, not taking his eyes off Mark.
“He said he’s never seen you play,” I replied, still looking at Josh.
His brown eyes watered but were quickly blinked clear as he turned to look at me.
“Thank you,” he said tightly, and despite the lack of enthusiasm, I knew that Josh meant the gratitude this time.
“Yeah, so don’t embarrass yourself,” I teased with a smile. “It would be a shame if you lost today in front of him.”
“You’re an asshole,” Josh growled, but that smug smile formed on his face.
“Say it like you mean it, Logan,” I murmured, leaning in until only he could hear me above the noise.
“You’re an asshole, Dean.” His voice dipped lower than I’d ever heard it, but the sound of my actual name on his lips was like a balm to my fried nerves. The heat coming off him was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to get even closer.
“Ouch.” I clutched my chest playfully and finally looked away from him. “Now go pitch a perfect first inning. Give them something to love you for, because once they see how big of a dickhead you are in post game interviews they’re going to need a reminder.”
“Ha,” Josh barked and flipped me off. Stepping out onto the field, the resounding chorus of disgruntled fans returned, but he didn’t seem phased this time. He was ready to prove himself.
“Good work, big boy. I think you might have cracked Josh’s concrete heart,” Cael said as he followed me out onto the field. The groaning turned to cheers and the guys all shook out their tense spring nerves, replacing them with excitement and focus.
Josh closed his eyes on the pitcher’s mound and rolled his neck out before palming the baseball and staring down the pipe at Jensen, behind the batter. I lowered my stance and Louis, on second, followed suit. Cael inched to his right, his shoulder lining up with Josh’s, and his eyes widened ready for the pitch.
Ritchie Levson was their lead off, and for a damn good reason.
He hit hard and had the disgusting capability of dropping balls into tiny gaps left in the outfield.
Josh inhaled one more time before angling his body backward in a fluid motion as he shifted his feet and threw the first true pitch of the season.
The sound of the bat meeting the ball was loud and followed by chaos.
No one was talking to each other.
Josh turned to track the ball, and I shifted off base to prepare for Mitchell’s cannon from his scattered position.
“First!” I called out, but he couldn’t hear me and the sound of the crowd drowned out any echo that might have followed. The ball hit the turf in center field, just beyond Todd, and had Van sliding through the grass to collect it in his long arms.
