Page 37

TUCKER

F riday night games were, without question, my least favorite thing on the planet. The boys were restless after a long week, wanting to spend the night getting wasted at Delta and forgetting all the crap we learned in school. No one wanted to be dressing for a game beneath a concrete pad that held thousands of cheering fans.

But tonight was even worse, it would be the first time we were facing Lorette since Josh had transferred to Harbor. Transfers weren’t usually a big deal—they happened all the time—but Josh hadn’t exactly left Lorette on good terms.

After our conversation about what happened with Ian, I reached out to a few of the guys over at Lorette. I was nosy and wanted to know if Josh had told me the entire truth. I realized quickly that he had been ostracized there long before Ian had snapped. It was like I’d slapped them—the mood shifted instantly the second I brought him up.

Nothing about Josh’s sexual orientation was mentioned, but I could feel them holding back almost as if they weren’t sure how truthful they could be with me. Ian was a sore topic; turns out whatever Josh had done had serious consequences. He’d spend the majority of the season in the dugout.

Tonight would be a bloodbath.

“Earth to big boy.” Cael sat on the bench next to me. I had all but sleepwalked through getting dressed. I knew Josh was beside me because the only thing I could smell was that spicy, woody cologne he was always wearing. I just wanted to be at the Nest, hiding from the world, tangled in the sheet that smelled like him. It had taken a week for me to understand why Cael washed his bedding with lavender all those years.

It was addicting.

It was comforting.

The way Josh had crawled into all the dark spaces beneath the surface was unbelievable.

“You gonna be alright?” Cael asked, flipping his hat over his head.

“Yeah, I was just spaced out. I’m good.” I brushed him off and finished tying my shoes before standing. I looked around at them all, quietly getting ready, everyone already bracing for the impact of tonight's game. “No one is more stressed about tonight than me…” I said loudly, getting their attention. "But this is just another game, just another team… We beat them before, we’ll beat them again. We do this as a team,” I said, looking around at them before stopping on Josh. “We have each other’s back and no one gets left on the field.”

The boys clapped, hollered, and tapped their chests in agreement, each one rising and filing out of the locker room. The tunnel’s energy before the starting announcements was charged, I could feel the electricity in the air, it tingled at my fingers and made my tongue fuzzy.

Josh was the last out of the locker room as per usual, and I thought about saying something to him, but when I looked back at him, he was steel. There wasn’t anything on his face but anger and determination. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said; he knew what he wanted out of the game tonight, and he’d get it.

I sighed, rubbing my hands on my pants to get rid of the nervous sweat and led the team out onto the field with a bright smile and a few waves. Lorette was already lined up near the dugout, murmuring to each other like the stadium had been vacuum-sealed of air.

I looked back at Josh, who seemed indifferent, but I knew better, his fingers curled at his side and his shoulders tightened beneath his jersey. Ian was standing with the Lorette’s head coach, his ugly glare tucked beneath a red cap. There was a thick cast around his right arm and he looked like every breath was painful.

Good. I thought when I saw him. The sound of Josh’s voice when he told his story echoed in the back of my mind, and it took everything in me to turn to the dugout at that moment.

“Looks like Ian found his legs,” Cael whispered from beside me as Van came to stand at my back. It wasn’t a secret that he was a homophobic asshole. He made it clear every chance he got. Arlo used to work harder to strike him out just so no one had to stand on base with him during the games.

Every interaction I’d ever had with Ian was horrible.

“Unfortunately,” Van said, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is going to suck,” he added, before following Coach’s voice to the dugout.

“Tucker, Cael—” he called to us, and Cael tugged on the back of my jersey to get my feet moving. My stomach was in knots, he wasn’t supposed to be here today. My previous statement of today’s game being a bloodbath was an understatement. Josh’s focus was still on Ian even as Coach ran through some last-minute updates. His jaw was so tight I could feel it in my own, and all I wanted to do was check on him, but I couldn’t. Not here, not now.

Fuck.

I turned to Coach, completely unaware that he had stopped talking and was ordering me out on the field.

“Get focused. There’s nothing you could have done to stop it.” He gripped my shoulder and caught my worried gaze. I had forgotten that Coach knew about the fight. I wasn’t sure how much he knew, but he knew enough to be concerned about the game. I could see it in his eyes. I nodded, and he tapped his fingers to my chest before shoving me up and out of the dugout.

We needed to win this toss, we needed the advantage.

“Hey, Tuck.” Yuri stepped up to the plate with the ump, and I shook his hand.

“Fortuna,” I said back. "Good to see Ian on his feet,” I said politely and Yuri looked over his shoulder with a scoff. Everyone knew the kind of person Ian was.

“He might even get to play this season.” Yuri’s weasel-like features curled into satisfaction.

“Alright, men, no funny business today, keep the game clean and keep it fair. If you have issues, I’m the first to hear about them. No bench brawls today, I got a date later and I don’t need a black eye,” the ump joked.

“Chicks dig that stuff,” Yuri joked with the Ump. I could have cared less, with one eye on Ian in the dugout I shook hands before walking back to my own.

“Get in the field,” I barked as I came down the stairs and grabbed my glove. First base was directly beside the Lorette’s dugout. I swallowed tightly and shoved my hand into my mitt as we all marched out onto the field. I whirled on Josh as he came out of the dugout, the words caught in my throat as his dark eyes panned over me.

“What Tuck?” He snapped.

I’m here, I know he wouldn’t understand the sentiment of what I did next but I hoped that even through his hatred for the tradition he’d see what I was trying to say. I pressed my two fingers to my heart, no tapping, and all the silence of the moment swallowed by the stadium noise. I have your back .

Josh’s gaze flicked to my fingers, narrowed briefly, then snapped back to meet mine. “Quit being fucking weird,” he snapped and pushed past me but his shoulder brushed against mine and he tapped his mitt against my hand gently.

Okay .

I settled my nerves and made my way to first, watching Josh pace on the pitcher’s mound for a moment. He looked like a caged animal, the anxiety and anger rolling off him in thick, tense waves. When he finally settled, Yuri was readying in the batter's box. Swinging his bat back and forth before settling it on his shoulders.

Jensen nodded twice to Josh before pushing his cage over his face and sinking low. It had taken a second but it seemed like the two had finally started to find a groove. Josh double checked his surroundings making sure that Cael was ready over his shoulder and that Louis was paying attention to the gap.

From this distance, it was hard to tell what he was thinking, but I watched the methodical, slow rise and fall of his chest as he counted his breaths and rolled the ball over in his palm.

“Game on,” the ump called, and it was like a switch had been flipped.

Josh’s jaw ticked, his back foot grinding into the mound like he was anchoring himself in place. He inhaled deeply as his arm pulled back over his head and his body arched in a graceful curve that turned into a wave of power as he threw the ball with everything he had, and it slapped into Jensen’s mitt behind Yuri.

Watching Josh pitch was art, like those moments in movies when the sound fades away from the shot and all you hear is the soft orchestra of music building in the background. His fingers curled around the ball, his thighs tightened as he moved his feet with practiced precision, and his eyes never left Yuri’s.

Another strike.

Maybe we can do this…maybe we can win.

Yuri rolled his neck out and re-adjusted in the box as the batting coach screamed something at him from the side. I scanned the field as Josh readied and saw what the batting coach saw, a pocket in left. I swore as the ball was released and sank low on the base as the ball cracked loudly against the bat and soared over the infield head to that unprotected patch of grass. Van was quick on his feet, the anticipation building as he flung himself to the ground to try to catch the ball, but it bounced passed his sliding body to Todd as Yuri rounded first and moved toward Louis at second.

“Lou!” Cael shouted, but it was too late; the second baseman wasn’t going to be fast enough. The ball hit his mitt mere seconds after Yuri found home beside him on the base with a cocky smile on his face.

“Nice team, Tucker.” A twisted, malicious jab floated from the dugout, and I tried to ignore it, but he tried again. “You guys might actually make it to the playoffs if you can pull your dicks out of each others asses and get it together.”

The Lorette crowd cheered loudly as the next batter, Steve Keery, placed a ball in left field and pushed Yuri home. Ian was still leaning against the banister, I could feel his gaze on my cheek as I tried to focus on something else.

All I want to do is put my fist through your face.

“How’s Logan?” Ian’s voice echoed around my head, and I pulled my hat down over my eyebrows. “Is he fitting in on your happy little gay team?” Every word Ian spat was crafted to get a rise out of me.

“Did you give him the Tucker special welcome when he arrived?” Ian hissed.

If you don’t stop, you’ll never play baseball again, and I’ll be in jail.

I flexed my hand inside my mitt and ignored him as another batter stepped up, hitting the ball to Cael. He yelled my name but I barely heard it over the sound of my own frustration. The ball soared into my mitt clumsily and the batter settled on first safely, that run was enough to load the bases.

Josh readied for the next pitch, and just like the one before, the batter easily hit the ball, which soared over the heads of the outfield and over the back end of the Hornets stadium into the stands. Shit. A home run grand slam. Perfect.

Everything went downhill from there, we couldn’t keep ourselves together long enough to score a run in the first three innings. It wasn’t until the fourth that Van finally connected with a ball and put it out to bring me and Todd home for three runs.

We were down seven to three and everyone had seemed to lose their fight. Arlo was getting short with Josh as Nicholas tried to run Reyes through a warm up to take his place on the pitcher's mound.

“You’re not taking me out!” Josh snapped, and Arlo growled in response.

“You’ve handed over seven runs, Logan, this isn’t about me questioning your abilities, it's about Lorette getting in your head!” Arlo threw his clipboard on the bench beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. “You aren’t ready for this, not for them!”

“You don’t get to fucking decide what I’m ready for,” Josh bit out.

“I do!” Arlo stepped forward to get in his face. “It’s my job. I’m your coach. Which means if I say you aren’t ready, you don’t go on the field. You need a break!”

“It’s bullshit!” Josh got louder and pinned his shoulders back as he moved closer.

“It’s law,” Arlo said, clearly very finished with the conversation.

“Give me one more inning!” Josh wasn’t going to beg, but it was close enough as his voice got lower, practically pleading with Arlo.

“It’s an inning we need, Logan, we have to put Reyes in,” Arlo said, his voice calmer than before. “I’m sorry.”