by Lane Hayes
A rush of heat and a heady sense of awareness overcame me. I adjusted my cap backward on my head and lifted my plastic mug before giving him a sideways glance. Carter was extremely good-looking. However, his appeal went well beyond my physical attraction to him. The broad shoulders, muscular abs, and chiseled cheekbones were nice, but I was beginning to see they paled in comparison to his inner charm. He was strong, cool, and collected with an easygoing nature that drew people to him. If you were on the inside, you’d forget the guy had more money than Midas. He was warm, genuine, and kind. I had a sudden urge to know everything about him, from the name of his first pet to his favorite teacher in grade school.
“Who was your favorite superhero when you growing up?” I asked in a casual, low voice as I leaned into his side.
Carter frowned and gave me a “what the fuck?” look. I snickered and bumped his knee under the table, then raised my beer with a grin as though my wacky non sequitur wasn’t completely awkward.
“Um… I don’t—actually… I was obsessed with He-Man.”
“He’s not a superhero,” I corrected with an eye roll. “I’m talkin’ Marvel or DC comics here. Iron Man or Batman or—”
Carter shrugged, shifting slightly in his chair to face me. “He-Man. Masters of the Universe. ‘I have the power!’ That cartoon was the best. I liked the other stuff fine, but I wanted to storm Castle Grayskull and defeat Skeletor.” He cocked his head to the right and paused before adding in a serious tone, “Didn’t you?”
I barked a quick laugh and grinned so wide my cheeks hurt. “No. I think it was a little before my time. I had a serious hard-on for Batman anyway.”
Carter choked on his beer. He covered his mouth and set his mug aside, waving off the concern of our tablemates before turning to give me the evil eye.
“Interesting word choice. Is that a literal or figurative expression?”
“Both. Dark, brooding, mysterious… and the cape. He-man didn’t have a cape. He wore brown undies and boots and carried a sword. A psychologist could have a field day with him,” I commented ruefully.
He guffawed, then pressed his thigh against mine and set his hand on my knee before lowering his voice suggestively. “It was a big fucking sword, Tim. Everything else kinda faded, you know?”
My mouth went dry. I tried to think of a comeback, but coherent thought was tricky with my dick straining against my zipper. “Hey… are you ready to get out of here?”
Carter gave me a Cheshire cat grin and patted my knee. “Yeah. Finish your pizza. I’m going to tell Annie to charge my card.”
He pulled his hand away and turned to address the waitress standing at the end of the table. At the last second I recaptured it and entwined my fingers with his. He stalled for half a beat and stuttered before regaining his rhythm. When he squeezed my hand, I swear my heart swelled in my chest. I studied his profile and focused on the cadence of his voice, wondering at the absence of anxiety. I liked this and I couldn’t explain why.
Dahlia drummed her fingers from across the table to get our attention.
“What are they doing here?” She scowled, gesturing toward the door with her thumb.
Carter looked up and tensed. If I hadn’t been sitting next to him, I might have missed it. He recovered quickly and released my hand before standing to greet Lance and another player from the Raptors. In spite of his cordial welcome, I could tell Carter wasn’t happy to see them either. I reached for my beer and kept a covert eye on them. The man I didn’t recognize stepped away to order, which left Carter with Lance. When the waitress came through the aisle holding a pizza above her head, the men stepped toward the exit to continue their conversation.
I leaned toward Dahlia and inclined my head in their direction. “What’s the story with the pitcher?”
“He’s a good-looking zero. You ask me, he saw dollar signs and decided to pursue our boss. I don’t know how Carter stands him. Or what he ever saw in that fuckhead.” She turned to signal the waitress for another round, leaving me with yet another flash of jealousy.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
Dahlia gave me a shrewd once-over, then pointed to her left. “The can’s thataway.”
“Uh… thanks,” I said with a wan smile before taking a right and moving toward the front door.
I pushed my way through the press of bodies and surfaced a couple minutes later near the entrance. There was no sign of Carter or Lance. I pushed the door open and stepped into the cool spring night. Harried-looking parents were corralling their kids into a minivan parked under a lamppost, but the parking lot was otherwise quiet. Or maybe it was hard to hear over the din of traffic from the busy street fifty yards away. I stuffed my hands in the back pockets of my jeans and eyed the area once more. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Carter having a conversation with another man wasn’t against any rules. We didn’t have rules. At least not this kind.
I was about to go inside when I heard an annoyed voice nearby. I followed the sound like an overzealous investigator who has no clue what to look for and stopped short when I spotted the two men standing close in the shadows. I couldn’t hear them clearly, but their body language indicated it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. I hung back for a moment to observe. Carter stood with his arms crossed. His no-nonsense posture spoke volumes. I doubted this was a professional discussion. I moved closer just as Lance reached for Carter’s arm.
“…but there is no reason, baby. I—”
Carter pushed his hand away and stepped back. “I’m not interested.”
“Are you seeing someone? It can’t be ser—”
“Hey there. You ready to go?” I asked casually, as though I wasn’t obviously guilty of skulking in the shadows and eavesdropping.
Both men turned in surprise. Carter recovered first and gave me a wan but reassuring smile. Lance on the other hand, didn’t look pleased in the slightest. His menacing scowl transformed his handsome features into something decidedly unpleasant. I returned his intimidating stare with an innocent grin and moved in until I was close enough to smell his aftershave.
“This is private. Do you mind?” Lance asked irritably.
“Mind what?”
Lance huffed and then went still.
“Ahh. I remember you. You’re the drummer. Huh. So you’re the replacement.” He turned to Carter and shook his head in disgust.
“Lance, stop. He isn’t—”
“Yes, I am,” I asserted, stepping a little closer.
Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight. Pun intended. Jealousy had been eating at me all day. The possible repercussions of outing myself didn’t register as significant. Staking a claim struck me as more important at that moment.
“Interesting. I read something about you recently. A baby or… hmm. I didn’t pay much attention. My bad.”
Lance whisked his baseball cap off and scratched his head in a show of vague amusement before stepping away. He moved toward the door and stopped before he pulled it open.
“Good to know,” he remarked with a lopsided grin that went nowhere near his eyes. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
I waited until he was gone to gawk at Carter in bewilderment. “So….”
He let out a heavy sigh and motioned toward his car. “I’m ready to go.”
7
The air inside the car felt stilted and uncomfortable. We listened to a classic rock station on satellite radio and let the Eagles encourage a peaceful, easy feeling while internally I was practically vibrating with angst. I kept time with the beat, tapping my hands against my thighs and the leather-upholstered passenger seat in Carter’s BMW. I was playing it cool and trying not to let my growing anxiety send me into a spiral. He’d start explaining any second now. I was sure of it.
When the first few chords of Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” came through the speakers, I hummed along to fill the silence between us until he started talking. Normally I’d turn up the volume and let the familiar bluesy sound soothe away my mis
givings. I hated feeling so completely unmoored. It was bad enough that I’d ventured to Brooklyn to get my ass kicked playing baseball in the geek league, but to inadvertently out myself was—disconcerting. I stared at Carter’s handsome profile in the luxury car’s darkened interior and wondered for the millionth time why I was here.
“Are you gonna fuckin’ say something?” I finally blurted when we reached the next intersection.
“I guess he’s jealous,” Carter said quietly. “I didn’t think he would be.”
“Hmph. You’re ruining this song for me,” I declared, turning to stare unseeing at the nondescript storefronts on the busy street.
Carter huffed in amusement but kept his gaze on the traffic. “How am I ruining this song?”
“You’re being moody and uncommunicative. This song is light and sexy. You are fucking with the energy.”
Carter busted up laughing. He turned the volume down and tossed a brief smile my way. “The energy? I didn’t realize you were so melodramatic.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not. Usually,” I grumbled. “I just hate being terrible at something I used to be good at and I hate feeling so… possessive when I have no right. Where are we going? You’re turning too soon.”
“I forgot something at the park. Possessive? I like that.”
“Really? You don’t think that’s a creepy sentiment? I’m jealous. You might like that one too. I can overlook the fact your ex is the first one who knows there’s something between us because I don’t want that fucker to think he has a shot at getting you back. What I should be worried about is him outing me to the press while I’m in the midst of dealing with a woman who claims she’s having my kid! How am I doing? Are you freaked out yet?”
“No. I think it’s kind of… sweet.”
“Sweet?” I twisted in my seat and gave him a caustic glare. “I’m not sweet!”
Carter chuckled. “You are. And I’m flattered. You have nothing to be jealous about. Truthfully, I wasn’t invested with Lance. It was sex.”
“Like us,” I said in a low tone. I felt a wave of defeat settle over me, which made no sense. Carter and I were not destined to be anything more than friends with benefits. I should have been relieved we were on the same page. I wasn’t.
“I don’t feel that way about us. And you pretty much just told me you feel the same.”
Carter pulled into the park entrance. The narrow two-lane road leading toward the field was well lit. Neither of us said a word, choosing to let the final strains of the seventies classic fill the space between us until we reached the deserted parking lot.
“Come with me.”
“Why? You scared?” I teased in a lame attempt to break the building tension.
“Yep.” He held my gaze until I nodded and opened the car door.
It seemed cooler here than it had a couple miles away at Sam and Ed’s. We moved quickly toward the low fence separating the lot from the field. Carter gave me a quirky grin before hiking over the fence. I followed his lead, then headed across the dewy grass toward the dugouts. It was hauntingly beautiful. A blanket of mist floated over the diamond, giving the field a mysterious and majestic quality I associated with spiritual places. Like cathedrals.
I stood for a moment at home plate to admire the scenery. The buzz of traffic was faint here. Except for the occasional far-off siren, you could almost imagine you were truly alone. In a city as big as New York, that was a rarity. I glanced over my shoulder when I heard Carter approach with his glove in hand.
“Got it. Want to grab the other one from the car and toss the ball?”
“Not particularly,” I admitted with a shrug.
“Okay. We can get go—”
“No. Let’s stay for a minute. It’s… nice here. Peaceful.”
Carter’s radiant grin felt like a beam of sunshine. I smiled in return and let the last of my misgivings go. If only for now.
“Nights like tonight remind me of that movie Field of Dreams. Did you ever see it?” he asked.
“When I was a kid.”
“I loved it. I used to wish my dad owned a cornfield in the middle of the country where old-time baseball heroes came to play at night and relive their one last moment of glory.”
“Who in their right mind wishes for a fucking cornfield?”
Carter chuckled. “A lonely kid with an older parent, an absent mother, and no siblings. I didn’t want the cornfield. I wanted the family. I wanted my dad to play catch with me in the park and take me to ball games. Hell, I wanted him to watch my ball games. But… we don’t always get what we want.”
“What do you want now?”
“I want things I can’t buy. Peace of mind, something real, and someone who—look… I’m not interested in Lance. He was probably horny and figured why not ask. It’s how things used to work with us. I really don’t think he’ll out you, but if you’re concerned we can do our own thing for a while—”
“No,” I said abruptly. “I’m not ready to blast anything from the rooftops, but I’m also not ready to give this up. You feel real to me, Carter. I’m willing to take a chance. At least for now.”
“For now,” he repeated with a smile. “Okay. Me too.”
“Good. I can’t make big promises or wild, romantic gestures, but I want you to know this means something to me. I’m not with anyone else. Only you. I’ll do my best not to be a bad bet.”
“That was almost… romantic,” he said with a half laugh.
“Yeah, well, I’m out of practice.”
“Hmm. Well, like I told you… I’m notorious for my bad taste in men but—”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Present company excluded.” He bumped my shoulder and then hooked his arm over my shoulder before kissing my cheek. The gesture was sweet and unexpected. I slipped my arm around his waist to keep him close. For once I didn’t question why. I only knew this felt… right. Real. His pleased expression told me he felt the same.
“Other than an insanely hot body and a gorgeous exterior, what did you see in that guy? I know you better than to think it was all sex.”
“He was out. Believe it or not, he was one of the only completely out gay men I’ve been with since Zeke.”
“Seriously? It seems like you’re setting your sights low if confirmed homosexuality is a major factor of attraction,” I snarked.
Carter snorted. “If you knew some of the morons I’ve dated you’d understand. Geez, I could write a book about guys who think doing something ‘macho’ during sex makes the act a little less queer.”
I laughed.
“I’m not joking. Let’s see… there was the guy who insisted on listening to loud rap music while I blew him. Another one who insisted on wearing camouflage to bed.” Carter chuckled at my incredulous expression. “At first I thought it was kinda sexy, but it became weird when he wanted to paint my face.”
“You’re kidding.” I pulled back with a frown and pointed toward the dugout when the mist turned to drizzle again.
“I wish.” Carter followed me as he continued to list his many “bad choices.” “Then there was the real estate agent who insisted on having straight porn playing in the background and called me ‘dude’ a dozen times after he came.”
“Seriously?”
“The funny thing was he never even watched it.” He gave a halfhearted huff of amusement and rolled his eyes, then leaned against the dugout frame and looked out at the field pensively. “But the worst ever was the guy I met at a sports bar in DC. He was tall, handsome, and built like a brick house. And he loved football. So much that he wanted to wear helmets in bed. The first time… okay. By the third time, it wasn’t a turn-on in the slightest. Go ahead… laugh. I would too. When I suggested we go without the football gear, he freaked out and I finally clued in that he needed it to pretend he wasn’t in bed with a man. I wanted kink, what I got was denial. Turns out I’m attracted to masculine guys who inevitably ended up being assholes who want to quietly exercise their gay sides whil
e pretending they’re straight in public.”
I moved to stand in front of him and tipped his baseball cap so I could see his eyes. “Do you think that’s me?”
“No. Maybe. You fit the mold. You’re my type of guy, from your tattoos to your sarcastic sense of humor and… the fact you seem like you have problems I wish I could fix.” He sighed theatrically and stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “If you actually remembered how to play baseball worth a damn, I’d be really concerned I could fall for you too.”
I winced, then nodded with chagrin. “Yeah, well… I warned you.”
“You did.” Carter gave me a lopsided smile and pulled me against him so we stood toe-to-toe. He pressed a soft kiss on my lips and licked the corner of my mouth. He ran his hands along my sides before moving them to rest on my ass. “This isn’t just sex to me. I’m not suggesting this is forever, but I don’t think we’re making a mistake.”
I was unsure how to respond. Just being near him made my pulse jump and my dick take notice. The sexual energy was palpable, but I felt the need to acknowledge the subtle shift between us. Standing in a deserted park while partially sheltered in the enclosed dugout lent an otherworldly feel to the moment. I could imagine we were truly alone in a secret place no one could touch. Or judge. I turned his cap backward, then gently traced his jaw as I stared into his eyes.
“So no football helmets?”
Carter threw his head back and laughed. The melodic sound echoed around us. I grinned, then bit his stubbled chin as I swayed my hips against his, delighting in the feel of his evident arousal through the layers of fabric.
“No, but baseball caps are really fucking hot.” He tugged at my hat meaningfully with a moan before covering my mouth in a searing kiss. He sucked on my tongue and then licked my lips and my chin in a frenzy.
I growled, pushing back slightly to slide my hand over the prominent bulge in his white baseball pants before reaching to unzip him. “Mmm… I want you. Right here. Right now.”
He stilled my fingers and gave me a long, searching stare. I watched him for clues as I strained to keep my libido in check and not knock him to the ground and dive on top of him. I was strung out and dizzy with desire. It was dark and drizzling and we were alone. The clouds were low, and the chill in the air wasn’t conducive to a moonlight stroll in the park. There was no reason to stop. No one was here, and no one was coming back. I rubbed my dick against him once more before deciding it was up to me to move this along.