Page 16 of Love On Deck
They reach a locker room and Jesús hands Connor some clothes. He points to an empty stall and then points at Andrew. “You,ven, ven,come with Jesús.” He says something to Connor, who’s already down to his black briefs, and walks away.
Andrew’s throat goes dry at the sight. They’re snug. And small. Not Speedo small, but still. There are Connor’s tats in all their glory, most of them anyway. A couple of them peek from the waistband of his briefs, and holy hell if Andrew doesn’t want to trace each one with his tongue.
A-hem. He shifts, trying to adjust his dick without being obvious.
Connor turns and catches Andrew admiring. His eyes flick to Jesús, who’s almost at the door, then back to Andrew. Their gazes hold, his eyebrow arches, and Andrew’s sure there’s a promise in there somewhere. His gut clenches and his dick twitches again, and thank God his shorts are actually loose enough to hide any telltale firming. He just hopes Connor keeps his promises.
“Jesús wants you to follow him,” says Connor, pulling on the baseball pants over the curve of his very fine ass. “He understands English, he just doesn’t speak it very well.”
“Right. Okay.” Andrew’s voice doesn’t crack, but it’s a near thing. He gets a hold of himself quickly. This isn’t about him, it’s about Connor, so he adds, “Have fun,” and follows his host.
Andrew’s given a seat right behind the dugout and Jesús asks if he wants a beer, but Andrew requests water for now.
The Leones are on the field. Players are scattered all over the place in groups of twos and threes. Some are doing sprints in the outfield between the foul line and some designated distance away. Most are performing one sort of stretch or another.
Propping his feet on the railing in front of him, Andrew inhales and exhales a deep breath. The sun is bright and the grass is green. What a gorgeous day to be at the ballpark.
Connor climbs up out of the dugout a few minutes later, wearing baseball pants, a wife beater that hugs his torso, and a Leones baseball cap worn backwards. He turns to the stands and grins, his whole face shining. “This is fucking sick, man.” On the field, Connor is greeted enthusiastically by the team. He chooses a group and begins stretching. His delighted chatter carries across the space, although Andrew can’t make out the words.
Andrew is struck dumb again.
As Connor does his thing, Will’s words come back to Andrew.“Just remember, he can’t be out and proud right now. If that’s going to be a deal breaker for you, then don’t pursue him.”
Andrew understands the stigma of homosexuality in professional sports. He certainly would never ask Connor to jeopardize the career he so obviously loves by asking him to out himself on a whim just so they can see one another. There’s definitely something special about Connor though, and Andrew’s never been quite so taken, quite so quickly.
Is Andrew willing to keep the relationship secret until it becomes clear that they have a true connection and it’s not just combustion and hot sex? If the relationship becomes something they both want to pursue, would Connor be willing to come out?
There’s only one way to find out. Have a conversation.
Practice lasts until noonish. The Leones game starts at two and the team needs time to eat, shower, and catch their collective breath before batters up. Connor and he won’t get to watch much of the game, but it doesn’t matter. He’s here with Connor on a gorgeous sunny day, and they’re watching baseball.
Connor talks up a storm and laughs all the way through lunch, and there’s nowhere Andrew would rather be. He can visit Mayan ruins anytime. Seeing Connor so vibrant and uninhibited might just be a one-time opportunity. Andrew hopes not though.
The Leones are up four to nothing when they leave the stadium at the conclusion of the third inning and flag another cab to get them back to the ship. Andrew’s mission to do something special for Connor has been accomplished, even though he ended up being merely a minor cog in the whole works.
Connor talks all the way back to the port, through the terminal, and up the gangway.
“Mr. Kulyk, you look like you had a spectacular day,” says a woman who reminds Andrew of his great-aunt as they plod up the wide wooden ramp. He places her and her companion as the ladies he saw in the atrium the other night.
Connor stops and turns, a wide smile on his face. “Ms. Marva, Ms. Wanda. I had a fantastic day. And you ladies?”
“We went on the Holy Guacamole tour,” says Marva.
The Misses Marva and Wanda look very much alike, from the graying hair to the slim build and the twinkling blue eyes. But where Marva wears wire-rimmed glasses, Wanda sports cats-eye frames with faux gems on the upper corners.
“We’re going to skip dinner tonight,” adds Wanda, patting her stomach and rolling her eyes.
“I don’t blame you,” Connor replies. His eyes go round for a moment and he looks at Andrew. “Oh, hey, sorry, where are my manners? Baba taught me better than that. Andrew, this is Ms. Marva Maple and Ms. Wanda…sorry, Ms. Wanda, I don’t think I know your surname.”
“It’s Wooster.”
“Ms. Marva Maple, Ms. Wanda Wooster, this is my friend Drew. We caught a bit of a Leones game.”
Again with the Drew. Andrew likes the sound of the diminutive on Connor’s tongue. “Nice to meet you both,” Andrew says, shaking each proffered hand.
They walk and talk with the ladies all the way to the elevators on board and see them safely into a car.
He’d like to skip dinner too, but for a different reason altogether. Connor had made a promise, after all. “I had a great time today.”
