Page 9 of Totally Played (Love In Play #5)

Chapter nine

Calvin

I run across home plate, the crowd on their feet cheering, but I swear I can hear Ash the loudest. It’s stupid because with over four and a half thousand people inside the stadium, it’s highly unlikely.

But it’s like he is cheering right beside me.

Maybe it is because I keep checking he is watching me.

I glance that way again as I wave to the crowd on my way back to the dugout.

Rachel is still jumping up and down, leaning on his shoulder to get even more lift, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Tim slaps me on the back on my way past to take a seat.

“Nice run for the parents,” he says, and my face grows warmer.

“Yeah, the parents… umm, you know, thought I would give them something to cheer about.”

When I pointed at the stands, I wasn’t looking at my parents or my sister.

My gaze locked onto Ash like he was the only person in the stands, and then before I knew it, I was pointing at him, telling the crowd I was headed home for him.

Good thing he’s sitting with the family, and everyone, including Tim, assumes that is who the run was for.

I wonder if Ash knows it was really for him.

Fuck. I don’t know what is happening with me.

Why do I want him to love this game? I force my stare to the field and the game ahead, but it’s a struggle to sit still, my knee bouncing as each of our players steps out and tries to get us more points.

***

I jog out onto the field and take my position.

While Antoine Masser scored us a run home in the fifth, giving us a two-point lead, it isn’t enough.

We know better than to count a win before the last inning.

I bounce from foot to foot, trying to keep my attention on the hitter as Ryan sends the ball.

The batter clips it, and I’m right onto it, scooping it up and sending it straight to Pat on first. He’s out.

“Yes!”

“Nice one,” Duckie calls as some of the crowd boos.

It’s the worst part of playing the OGs. They have such a huge fan base, and not all of them are good sports about losing.

I glance over to Ash and my family. They clap and cheer, Ash waving when he sees me looking their way.

I wave back, and the big screen camera is suddenly on me, and then my family, including Ash.

Rachel stands up and waves to the crowd, taking her opportunity to show off the dress she’s made.

It’s become a pretty in thing in sports lately, women buying up bigger jerseys and making skirts and dresses, and more fancy outfits to wear.

She made one in each of the Funky Monkeys and Animal Control jerseys, but Purple is her favorite color.

I can’t blame her, it’s mine, too. And just now I see that Ash is wearing purple, too.

A deep purple corset over a deep green long-sleeved dress shirt.

The corset hugs his body, highlighting his hourglass shape.

The screen flicks to Yoyo Leigh, the next hitter for the OGs, and I tear my gaze away.

Yoyo’s singing along to the music on his way to the box, one of the social media managers videoing him on a device that’s streaming him live online and feeding it to the big screen. He’s a crowd favorite and knows it, too.

“Hit him with a screamer,” I tell Ryan, referring to his fastball.

Ryan nods and lines up, ready for the second Yoyo has the bat up. He sends it down the line, and it hits the catcher’s glove a split second later. Shit, that had to be over one hundred for sure. There’s an audible gasp, and I can’t help but chuckle at the sheer shock on Yoyo’s face.

“Come on, Ryan, you got this,” I say, and two pitches later, Yoyo is walking back to the dugout.

It’s a nice feeling for all of three minutes before the next batter knocks it out of the park for a point for the OGs.

The timer hits two hours, and we move right into the ninth inning.

I’d like to say we kicked their asses, but with every run a point, we get three, but the OGs get five. We’ve lost. Again.

***

“Tough game,” Dad says when I step out of the stadium player entrance. He’s waiting with Mom and Rachel, all of them wearing the same forced smile.

“You played amazing,” Ash says, and I spin to see him leaning against the wall, grinning, and I can just tell there is nothing about his smile that is forced.

“Thanks,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. “I kind of hoped we could have given you a win, with it being your first game.”

“Second.”

“The replay doesn’t really count,” I say, and Rachel wraps me in a hug.

“I told him that, too. So, you hungry, big brother?”

“I could eat.”

“Good, cause Mom and Dad are buying.” She laughs.

“You want to grab a bite?” I turn and ask Ash. His grin grows wider, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I could eat,” he parrots my reply, and Rachel links her arm in his and mine, walking in between us as we follow my parents to the Riverside Barbeque.

It’s the place we always go to eat after they come to a game. Half the players will be there and a bunch of fans, too, but they mostly leave us alone after a picture or two.

Rachel looks from me to Ash and back.

“So you were supposed to go on a date with Tony?” she asks, and I instantly regret messaging her after our bro-date.

I couldn’t talk to Tony about it. I was supposed to be pretending to be him, not catching feelings for a guy.

Cosmo was out of the question. He’d tell Mom and Dad the second I hung up the phone.

He already jokes that the Parks know how to populate the LGBTQIA+ community.

With Tony being bi and him gay, I keep telling him they only have a sixty-percent success rate.

If I’m now questioning my straightness, that percentage goes way up.

What are the chances my parents had four out of five children identify queer?

I could just be confusing our instant friendship with something else. It’s not like you meet a person you just click with right away. It doesn’t mean you want to jump their bones or anything.

Ash looks at me before he answers, sending that same flurry through my gut and confusing me even more.

“I was, yeah. But he’s sick, so Calvin came and well, we hit it off so we had a bro-date instead.”

“Bro-date. I love that. More people should have bro-dates.”

“I totally agree.”

“So what did you do on this bro-date?” she asks as we stroll through the dark streets of Savannah toward the water.

Riverside Barbeque is exactly as the name suggests, a barbecue restaurant set beside the river.

It serves great burgers, ribs, and wings, and their sides are two for one on Tuesdays, drawing more than a few players after training that night.

I think Tony and I ate leftover mac and cheese for breakfast for most of last year, loading up on servings every Tuesday.

It was cheaper and easier than making it ourselves, and tasted way better. That microwave stuff is just crap.

“We had a few beers while Calvin taught me the rules of Banana Ball, played the claw machine where I kicked his ass, and then met up with a few of his friends for food and charades,” Ash says.

“Cool. He doesn’t let me hang out with his friends,” Rachel complains.

“You’ve never asked,” I say, and she turns to me, mouth wide open in disbelief.

“I did, too. As soon as the hottie Beau Hogan joined the team, I asked you to introduce us.”

“Beau doesn’t hang with the guys; he goes home right after every game.”

“You could invite him,” Ash says, and Rachel nods in agreement as both of them keep staring at me as we walk.

I should walk them right toward a pole. That would teach them not to look where they are going while trying to bully me into a friendship with Beau.

Actually, I don’t know why Beau doesn’t come out after the games.

He’s usually first out the door as soon as he’s showered.

He’s only about twenty-one, I think, so he’s the youngest in the team.

We’ve all played together for a few years now.

I guess it would be hard coming into an established team, especially as a young guy.

“Okay. I’ll invite him out next time the guys get together.”

“Tomorrow,” Ash says.

“Huh?”

“Tim and Lion invited me to game night tomorrow night, after the two OG teams go head-to-head.”

“Right, game night.”

“That’s it then. You invite Beau and I’ll come with you two,” Rachel says, unlinking her arms from ours for the first time since we left the field. “You’re the best big brother in the world,” she says, walking backward a few steps.

“Be sure to say that again when Tony’s here.”

She laughs, then jogs to catch up to my parents.

“She’s sweet,” Ash says, shoving his hands into his back pockets.

“She’s something.” I chuckle.

“I hope it’s okay I brought up game night.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. Who knows, maybe Tony will be better by then and he’ll come, too, and you can get another shot at that date-date.”

“Sure,” he says, and I hate that I even suggested it.

It’s not like I have a claim on him. He was supposed to be Tony’s date, and sure, we’re friends now, and there is no rule saying I can’t be friends with the guy my brother’s dating.

Except even the thought of Tony dating Ash makes me feel icky inside.

Fuck, why is it the one person I wish I could talk to about this is the one person I can’t talk to about it?

Rachel tried to be supportive. She agreed, it was probably just us being fast friends that threw me.

I was always so shy without Tony with me, and so often growing up, most of my friends were Tony’s friends first.

Ash is different. He doesn’t even know Tony, and the more I get to know Ash, the more the things Tony wouldn’t like start to emerge.

Ash loves plums, he screams at the television during games, he plays claw machines for silly little prizes, and moans when he eats.

Tony hates arcade games like the claw machine and will head right for the dodgem cars at fairs.

Cosmo drives him nuts with his screaming at the television, and a few months back, we had to move tables at Riverside Barbeque because the woman behind us was making noises while she ate.

I couldn’t even hear her, but Tony insisted she was basically having a food orgasm in his ear.

“How is Tony doing?” Ash asks, and I regret bringing him up at all.

“Getting there. He’s been mostly sleeping. Benadryl will do that.” I laugh.

“I should take some before getting on my flight tomorrow night.”

“Your flight?”

“Yeah, I have to go to Belgium after game night at Tim and Lion’s.”

“Wow, Belgium. You must love seeing so many different places in the world,” I say.

He shrugs. “Actually, I spend most of my time in rental cars, hotels, and high-rises. I’ve been to Belgium twice before and I can’t say I know that much about the place, really.”

“How do you build relationships with these investors if you don’t spend time getting to know their country?”

“I’m there to get them interested in our tech.”

“And what better way to do that than to connect the tech to them personally? Who is it you’re seeing in Belgium?”

He hesitates like he might not be able to say, then leans in.

“The DeVos family.”

“Are they spies?” I whisper back.

He laughs.

“No. But you never know who might be listening.”

I doubt anyone on this street is even remotely interested in the fact that Ash is about to fly off to Belgium to meet with the DeVos family to convince them to invest in the tech company he works for, but who am I to know? Maybe Savannah is full of tech startups looking for foreign investors.

I grab out my phone and do a quick search online. It takes a few taps following different links as I go down the DeVos rabbit hole.

“Oh, this is interesting,” I say as we reach the restaurant, and he holds the door open for me to pass.

“What is?”

“The CEO used to be a farmer.”

“I know, they are one of the biggest AgTech investors in the world, that’s why we want them to up their investment in us.”

“Did you know the farm she still owns recently bred their Belgium Blues with Red Polls?”

“No.”

“Calvin, Ashley, move along,” Mom says, and we hurry to catch up as the waitress leads them to our booth. Ash sits right beside me, and I show him what I found.

“Look, there is a photo of her visiting the farm only a week ago. Tell her you’d love to see it.”

“My boss is sending one of our guys to the farms, trailing the sensors to get some testimonials for me to show her. But maybe if I talk to her farmers about them, show them the testimonials, and get their take on the sensors, it might help convince her to invest more.”

“Trust me, she’s not going to pass up a chance to visit the farm.”

“How do you know?”

“Just look at how goofy happy she is in the picture.”

He leans in close, his cologne filling my nose, and my stomach swirls again.

“She looks like you when I won you that giant Snickers.”

“I could totally go for a Snickers right now,” I say as my stomach growls at the thought of food.

“Eat all your dinner and I’ll win you one after,” he says, nodding toward the back wall. I turn and see a bunch of kids hovering around a candy bar claw machine. These things are seriously everywhere now.

“And if I don’t eat all my dinner,” I whisper, my voice coming out far flirtier than I expect. “What will you do then? Put me to bed without desert?”

He smirks.

“I’d probably still win you one. I don’t think I could deny you anything.”

Is it getting hot in here?