Home Plate (Easton U Pirates #2) Read Online Christina Lee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, College, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Easton U Pirates Series by Christina Lee
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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You tell him we can be his family.

Maybe in his own way, he’d already become an honorary member.

“Did you see the group bowling on lane two tonight?” Gemma asked, and I threw Mom an eye roll. It’d been a couple of teen boys making lots of noise, so who could’ve missed them?

“Okay, so, eyes…” she said dreamily. “Blue or brown?”

I glanced at Mom, and she grinned.

“Green!” we said at nearly the same time.

“That wasn’t one of the choices.” Gemma looked between us, perplexed.

I saw the very moment it dawned on her, and she practically tackle-hugged me and asked me way too many questions that I was in no position to answer. Mom warned her to hush about us until some things were sorted out.

I didn’t want to admit that, knowing Maclain, they might never be.

When I got back to my apartment, I pulled out my phone, wanting to text him so many things. Then settled on just one.

I miss you, you jackass.

There was no reply, even though I noticed he’d read it. I sighed, my heart settling in my throat. Just as well.

It wasn’t until the morning that I saw his response.

Miss you too, dickhead.

But I could also read between the lines, and it was at the crux of who Maclain was—I’m sorry I can’t be who you need.

25

Maclain

It was Sunday afternoon, and the Pirates had just gotten back in town from a doubleheader a couple of hours away. We fell behind in the first game, then came back to take the lead in the second, but we couldn’t lose any more games without blowing our winning streak. Two other teams were on our heels, and I knew how much it would mean to the coaches to end the season on this high. Especially because it’d been decades since Easton U had ranked in the top ten in the division.

Plus, the coaches had always given me the benefit of the doubt—who the hell knew why—and winning felt too good and was the only thing keeping my head in check right now. It was hard enough being around Girard all the time when I was uncertain about…well, everything in my life. I didn’t think I could bear to have my heart crushed by him when it was already lying in tattered pieces.

No, I was best on my own. Always had been.

That hadn’t stopped me from staring at the back of Girard’s head the whole bus ride home. Or dreaming about the feel of his warm arms around me or his cock filling my ass. But given the state I was in and what I was about to do, his touch might’ve been devastating, and I needed to be able to stand on my own two feet.

“Where are you off to?” Donovan asked as I slipped on my sneakers by the door.

“My dad’s house to clear out my room,” I replied in a grim voice. “He’s putting the house on the market.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Even though Donovan didn’t have all the details, he could obviously guess how much I dreaded it because he added, “I’ll be around tonight if you wanna…beat me in Mario Kart.”

I smiled at his coded message and, fuck, I appreciated it. “Thanks.”

I was lost in thought the entire two-hour drive, and more than once nearly turned the car around and headed toward the bowling alley instead, the idea settling in my chest like a warm blanket. I could play Girard in foosball, eat buttery pretzels at the counter with his mom, and feel like I was part of something for a few hours. But they weren’t my family and, unfortunately, I was about to walk away from the only connection to one I had.

A mix of childhood memories assailed me and the wistful ache in my gut only grew as I got nearer. I’d been happy the first ten years of my life, then pretty miserable and unsettled after that. By the grace of God—and baseball—I’d made it through high school and was about to graduate college. In a lot of ways, though, I was still that scared, lonely kid, so not much had changed. But I was so freaking tired of feeling like this. Like I was empty inside. Gutted, more like it.

I felt paralyzed with dread when I finally pulled into the driveway.

The house looked the same, but this time I noticed how it was more worn around the edges than the last time I’d walked out the door, my car packed to the gills for college. I remembered the relief in my stepdad’s eyes as I drove away, and I’d probably see it again today, this time for good. Maybe that was another reason he’d decided to sell. Trading in for something better.

Okay, time to push through the melancholy and put this behind me.

I mustered the courage to slide out of the car and knock on the front door, like I was a stranger. When my stepdad pulled it open, he barely looked at me, which made me feel even more so like one.


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