Page 133
Story: The Pucking Wrong Rookie
Ari leaned in, grinning. “Translation: he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”
I snorted, adjusting my cap as I scanned the field. It was surreal being out here. The stands were packed, fans decked out in jerseys and hats, waving their foam fingers and beers like maniacs.
“I can step in if you’re nervous.” Colt grinned.
Lincoln ignored him, rolling the baseball in his palm like he did this every day. He stepped toward the mound with the kind of confidence that only someone who wins at life as often as Lincoln does could muster. The rest of the team fanned out behind him, forming a loose line. Camden and Ari stood next to me, while Walker hung back, probably mentally calculating how much sunscreen he’d need to avoid burning.
“Hundred bucks says it hits the ground before home plate,” Asher drawled, loud enough for Lincoln to hear as he came up beside me. His team happened to be the visiting team for the matchup, which was a win-win for me.
Lincoln threw a subtle middle finger over his shoulder without breaking his stride. He set, wound up, and let it rip.
The ball sailed through the air, a clean arc that ended with a satisfyingsmackinto the catcher’s mitt. The crowd erupted in applause.
“He’s good at everything,” Ari muttered.
“It’s disgusting,” Camden agreed.
Walker just whooped and clapped loudly.
The simp.
Lincoln turned back to us, smirking like he knew exactly what we were thinking. “You’re welcome, boys.”
“You’re insufferable,” Camden said, shaking his head. “We’re leaving you here.”
Lincoln turned to Asher, who was still standing out there with his hands on his hips, watching us with an amused smile. “What’s the matter, Matthews? Jealous we’re getting all the attention today?”
Asher raised his glove, shaking his head as he called back, “Keep talking, Daniels. You still couldn’t hit a curveball if your life depended on it.”
“Guess we’ll never know,” Lincoln shot back with a smirk. “I stick to sports where wewinchampionships.”
Asher scoffed and flipped him off, grinning as the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, thanking the Knights for their appearance. We waved awkwardly as we made our way off the field and into the air-conditioned luxury of the box seats behind home plate.
* * *
“Asher’s fucking good,” Lincoln said as he watched Asher lay out for a ball and then somehow toss it to second base for the out.
“Really good,” Sloane murmured.
I glanced down at her. “Hey, none of that,” I growled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. I was going to have red lipstick all over my face, but it was worth it.
“What?” she asked, wrinkling her nose adorably.
“No complimenting other men.”
Lincoln smirked, pulling Monroe closer to him like just the mention of “other men” made him nervous.
“You’re ridiculous,” Sloane murmured, and I grinned as Blake leaned over and whispered something in her ear. They both rolled their eyes and laughed, clearly making fun of me, and my grin widened.
She fit in so perfectly.
A ripple of noise in the crowd had me glancing back at the field. I turned just in time to see a woman, butt naked, bolting from the stands, sprinting across the field, her boobs flapping around as she ran. The entire stadium erupted into laughter and cheers as security rushed after her.
“Holy—” Ari started, leaning forward as he watched the chaos unfold. “Is she?—”
“I think she’s going for Asher!” Walker said, standing up from his seat.
And she was. The streaker was making a beeline straight for him, arms outstretched like she was going to tackle him to the dirt. The crowd was going wild—whistles, cheers, people on their feet, phones out.
I snorted, adjusting my cap as I scanned the field. It was surreal being out here. The stands were packed, fans decked out in jerseys and hats, waving their foam fingers and beers like maniacs.
“I can step in if you’re nervous.” Colt grinned.
Lincoln ignored him, rolling the baseball in his palm like he did this every day. He stepped toward the mound with the kind of confidence that only someone who wins at life as often as Lincoln does could muster. The rest of the team fanned out behind him, forming a loose line. Camden and Ari stood next to me, while Walker hung back, probably mentally calculating how much sunscreen he’d need to avoid burning.
“Hundred bucks says it hits the ground before home plate,” Asher drawled, loud enough for Lincoln to hear as he came up beside me. His team happened to be the visiting team for the matchup, which was a win-win for me.
Lincoln threw a subtle middle finger over his shoulder without breaking his stride. He set, wound up, and let it rip.
The ball sailed through the air, a clean arc that ended with a satisfyingsmackinto the catcher’s mitt. The crowd erupted in applause.
“He’s good at everything,” Ari muttered.
“It’s disgusting,” Camden agreed.
Walker just whooped and clapped loudly.
The simp.
Lincoln turned back to us, smirking like he knew exactly what we were thinking. “You’re welcome, boys.”
“You’re insufferable,” Camden said, shaking his head. “We’re leaving you here.”
Lincoln turned to Asher, who was still standing out there with his hands on his hips, watching us with an amused smile. “What’s the matter, Matthews? Jealous we’re getting all the attention today?”
Asher raised his glove, shaking his head as he called back, “Keep talking, Daniels. You still couldn’t hit a curveball if your life depended on it.”
“Guess we’ll never know,” Lincoln shot back with a smirk. “I stick to sports where wewinchampionships.”
Asher scoffed and flipped him off, grinning as the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, thanking the Knights for their appearance. We waved awkwardly as we made our way off the field and into the air-conditioned luxury of the box seats behind home plate.
* * *
“Asher’s fucking good,” Lincoln said as he watched Asher lay out for a ball and then somehow toss it to second base for the out.
“Really good,” Sloane murmured.
I glanced down at her. “Hey, none of that,” I growled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. I was going to have red lipstick all over my face, but it was worth it.
“What?” she asked, wrinkling her nose adorably.
“No complimenting other men.”
Lincoln smirked, pulling Monroe closer to him like just the mention of “other men” made him nervous.
“You’re ridiculous,” Sloane murmured, and I grinned as Blake leaned over and whispered something in her ear. They both rolled their eyes and laughed, clearly making fun of me, and my grin widened.
She fit in so perfectly.
A ripple of noise in the crowd had me glancing back at the field. I turned just in time to see a woman, butt naked, bolting from the stands, sprinting across the field, her boobs flapping around as she ran. The entire stadium erupted into laughter and cheers as security rushed after her.
“Holy—” Ari started, leaning forward as he watched the chaos unfold. “Is she?—”
“I think she’s going for Asher!” Walker said, standing up from his seat.
And she was. The streaker was making a beeline straight for him, arms outstretched like she was going to tackle him to the dirt. The crowd was going wild—whistles, cheers, people on their feet, phones out.
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