Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
I was doing pretty damn well, if I did say so myself.
“…his base-to-base running speed was impressive two seasons ago, but he’s in a batting slump and it’s affecting every aspect of his game,” the director commented.
“That’s too bad. We’ve seen players turn it around, though. Gotta stay mentally prepared,” I said.
The older man nodded in agreement as he stood and skirted his desk with his hand outstretched. “True statement, Mr. Baker. Listen, I like your enthusiasm, and you obviously know your stuff. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from someone on Coach Reynard’s staff. Hope to see you at a Titan meeting this summer.”
I shook his hand in a strong, sure grip. “Thank you. I hope so too.”
I kept my gaze forward as I made my way through the athletic department. I wouldn’t allow myself the pleasure of studying the photos lining the wide corridors until I had the right to linger there as an employee of the university. I crossed my fingers, chuckling at the idea of getting George to cast a spell in my favor. Hey, it might work.
Of course, the second I thought of George, I wanted him. Any piece of him. His time, his attention, his smile, his body. The rogue vision of him lying naked in my bed this morning made my cock swell in my suit pants.
We’d become a tad reckless over the past month. He stayed at my place a few nights a week. And though we were both prepared with a list of excuses, we hadn’t needed them yet. His friends were busy preparing for finals, and my friends were swamped with their own worries. No one asked any tough questions, and we both wanted to keep it that way.
I met Simon and Kenny at our favorite dive at least once a week, but lately our conversation centered around sports, Simon’s upcoming move, and Kenny’s insane workload. Whenever they steered it in my direction, I kept it short and sweet before recapping a play on the flat-screen above the bar. They knew I’d finished my final classes and passed with flying colors. They also knew my uncle was a dick and that I couldn’t wait to begin the next chapter of my life. But I didn’t share anything important.
I didn’t tell them about the job interviews or mention that my uncle nagged me about taking extra shifts until he could hire a new guy. Hank hadn’t liked it when I told him I didn’t have the time. He’d made the usual offhand comment about hanging out with my queer friends, blood being thicker than water, and my mother rolling over in her grave if she could see me now. I let his commentary slide like water off a duck’s back. I was used to my family telling me I was a loser. Nothing new there.
And of course, I didn’t share anything about George and me. We were top secret and confidential. I never went to his place anymore. After he confessed that Asher and Topher knew about us, I was just too…uncomfortable. George trusted them not to say anything, but Simon didn’t know and that felt wrong too. So he came to my place…or we met somewhere.
Funny enough…I think we’d actually started dating. Like…going on real dates.
George took me to a fancy restaurant in LA for dinner a couple of weeks ago to celebrate receiving my certificate. The menu was in French, no English whatsoever. We pointed at a few items and hoped for the best. We ate like kings and talked all night at a candlelit corner table with our knees touching.
I reciprocated with a trip to a sports bar I loved in Long Beach. I bought him three kamikazes, trounced him at pool, then fucked him in the back seat of his Bronco in a deserted section of the parking lot. I also took him to a Dodger game where he ate too many hot dogs, and then spent three innings in a bathroom stall, holding his hair while he puked. FYI, there was no sex after that excursion.
Tonight we were going to a Golden Age of Macabre double feature at the Rialto.
I rolled the sleeves up on my oxford shirt and checked George’s last message before pulling out of my parking space.
Let’s meet at Arroyo Park near the baseball arena tonight at 6.
It’s called a field, not an arena, ya little weirdo.
Noted. I’ll be at the bench by the swings.
This was where a normal person would offer to pick up their date. I couldn’t do that without coming up with an excuse if anyone noticed us. And it was more economical to pay for a five-minute ride to a local park than to drive separately and look for two spots in a busy section of town on a Friday night.