Page 33
Great Expectations
Daniel
In past relationships, there was always a natural progression in how things unfolded. First, there was flirting, then a few casual hangouts with a kiss or two to end the night. And if things continued to go smoothly, after a few official dates, we’d take things into the bedroom.
But Harrison and I skipped all the usual steps and dove headfirst into the deep end of passion and lust.
Every night, I debase myself to the memories of his lips, the heat of his skin, and the intoxicating sounds of his moans as we explored each other’s bodies. I wasn’t nervous then, but now, I’m a bundle of nerves as I take him on our first proper date.
Seeds of doubt plant themselves in my brain. What if he thinks it’s lame that our picnic is at Finn Field, not in Central Park? I love baseball, so I thought it’d be a unique and memorable experience to share that love with him.
But Harrison isn’t a sports guy. He’s an artist, a free spirit who sees the world through a different lens.
Stepping out of the cab, I tell the driver that I’ll be right back and make my way into the building where Harrison lives. I thank my lucky stars that I’m fit and healthy, because the stairs are killer on my thighs .
I walk up to his door at the end of the hall and knock.
“One minute,” he says from deep within.
I lean against the wall and stare up at the flickering lightbulb above my head. A couple of flies hover around it, with one getting zapped when it decides to come in for a landing.
The door slides open, and I push off the wall. Harrison stands before me with a dazzling smile. My eyes roam over his body, and I bite my lower lip to stifle the groan that threatens to escape.
He looks effortlessly cool and sexy in his fitted jeans and a cream-colored shirt. His hair is still wet from a shower, and I resist the urge to run my fingers through it.
“Hey there, slugger,” he teases. “Ready to show me the ways of the diamond?”
I grin, my nerves melting away in his presence. “You bet.”
“Then lead the way, Hollingsworth. Let’s see if you can impress me much.”
“Wow, it’s so different when there’s no game happening,” Harrison remarks when we step out onto Finn Field.
I nod in agreement, taking in the sight of the empty stands and outfield. It’s quiet, no screaming fans or cracking bats. Only the soft hum of traffic in the distance and the occasional chirp of a bird soaring overhead.
“I love it when it’s like this,” I say. “Don’t get me wrong, the hectic energy of a game is incredible, but there’s something special about the peaceful moments too.”
Harrison grins, bumping his shoulder against mine. “Who knew you were such a big softie underneath all that muscle?”
I toss my head back and laugh. “Don’t tell anyone. Especially not Charlie.”
We head over to the pitcher’s mound, where I set down the picnic basket I’ve been carrying. Harrison eyes it with amusement. “ I still can’t believe how worried you were about those sandwiches on the way here.”
My cheeks heat up as I remember how I kept checking the basket every time we hit a pothole in the cab. And there were a lot of potholes.
“Hey, I busted my ass making them,” I defend myself. “I didn’t want them to get squished.”
Harrison’s laughter rings out across the field, and I can’t help but join in. “You’re adorable.” He pulls me in for a quick kiss. “And I appreciate the effort.”
He lays down the blanket as I unpack the food. The sandwiches are a little flatter than I’d prefer them to be, but Harrison takes a bite, regardless, letting out an appreciative moan that does things to my dick.
“Okay, I take it back,” he says around a mouthful of bread and turkey. “These are amazing.”
After we finish eating, Harrison leans back on his elbows and tilts his face up to the sun.
I’ve only ever used the word “beautiful” when talking about girls I’ve dated, but right now, that’s the only word that comes to mind to describe Harrison in this moment.
He’s so relaxed, his face free of worry lines.
He seems at peace. Happy to be here. With me.
“You know, when you first suggested this date, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But this? This is perfect.”
My heart swells at his words, and I scoot closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad. I wanted to share this part of my life with you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.”
Harrison turns his head and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “I’m into anything that you’re into.”
“Even Charlie?”
He snickers. “Even Charlie.”
As much as I act like it’s not, it’s surreal to think about the bond we share with my best friend.
“How did a future Wall Street worker end up falling in love with baseball?” he asks after a few minutes of silence .
I chuckle softly, my mind drifting back to childhood memories. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ve got time,” he says with a shrug. “I want to know everything about you, Daniel Hollingsworth.”
His genuine interest warms my heart, and I find myself opening up in a way I rarely do.
“Well, it all started when I was about five years old. My uncle took me to my first Yankees game while my parents were on vacation. I still remember the awe I felt as I walked into that stadium, took in the outfield, and heard the roar of the crowd.” I close my eyes for a moment and let the vivid sensations come roaring back.
“From that day on, I was hooked. I begged my parents to sign me up for Little League, and I spent every spare minute practicing my swing and perfecting my catching technique.”
Harrison listens intently, his hand finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Baseball was my escape, my joy. No matter what was going on in my life, I could always find solace on the field.”
“But your parents…” Harrison prompts gently, sensing the underlying tension in my story.
I sigh, my gaze drifting to the clear blue sky above us. “The Hollingsworth family business is an investment firm on Wall Street. There’s no baseball there, not even as a work thing like lawyers do.”
On the outside, I might act as if I have it all together. I put on a brave face and say that my family’s great expectations don’t bother me. I joke around with Charlie, hit home runs on the field, and charm everyone with my wit and humor. But deep down, I’m struggling.
I haven’t told anyone—not my parents, not Charlie—that the thought of working on Wall Street doesn’t sound as unappealing as it used to.
Sure, finance isn’t my passion the way baseball is.
And spending my days in an office crunching numbers and analyzing market trends doesn’t make my heart race the way running around the bases does.
But there’s a certain allure to the stability and security that a career on Wall Street would provide.
Professional sports are a risky gamble. One injury, one slump, and it’s game over.
And I’ve always had an affinity for numbers and complex analysis, no matter how boring it truly is. It engages a different part of my brain. Maybe it wouldn’t be terrible to put those skills to use, build a long-lasting career, and a future that my family would be proud of.
Of course, that old nagging fear still lingers. The dread that I’ll make the wrong choice and live a life full of regrets and what-ifs.
I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of this internal struggle bearing down on me. Harrison notices and gives my hand another comforting squeeze.
“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks softly, his blue eyes full of concern. “You got really quiet all of a sudden.”
I force a smile and shake my head. “Just thinking about the future. And all the big decisions that are looming.”
Harrison nods in understanding. “It’s scary, isn’t it? Trying to figure out what you want to do with your life. Especially when you have other people’s expectations to contend with.”
“You can say that again,” I mutter. “Sometimes I wish I could flip a coin and let fate decide. Heads, I go pro. Tails, I become the next wolf of Wall Street.”
Harrison chuckles and bumps his shoulder against mine.
“As tempting as that sounds, I think this is the kind of choice you have to make for yourself. Follow your heart, Daniel. Don’t let anyone else make this decision for you—not your family, not your friends, not even me.
You’re the one who has to live with the consequences. ”
I absorb his words. He’s right, of course. As much as I value the opinions of those closest to me, this is a crossroads only I can navigate.
Wanting to steer our conversation away from my family woes, I ask, “Speaking of parents, have you told yours about us? About me and Charlie?”
Harrison’s jaw clenches, and I immediately regret my question. But before I can backtrack, he answers. “My mother knows about you,” he admits, his voice strained. “She saw you leaving my hotel room the morning after our night together.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “She did? Shit, what did she say?”
“Nothing good, I’ll tell you that much.” He shakes his head, his gaze distant as he recalls the memory. “She barged into my room, demanding to know what we were doing together. I tried to explain, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“I’m so sorry, Harrison. That must have been awful.”
He shrugs, but I can see the hurt in his eyes. “It wasn’t a surprise. My parents have never been supportive. In their eyes, I’m a disappointment. A black sheep who refuses to conform.”
My heart aches for him, for the pain and rejection he’s endured from the people who should love him unconditionally. “You’re not a disappointment. You’re brilliant, talented, and brave. And if your parents can’t see that, then that’s their loss.”
Harrison’s lips quirk up in a small smile. “Thank you. She doesn’t know about Charlie,” he adds.
I nod, unsurprised. It’s not exactly the kind of thing you bring up in casual conversation, especially with disapproving parents. “Do you think you will? Tell them, I mean.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 33 (Reading here)
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