“You’re saying it took being attracted to Kellan to get you to admit it to yourself?”
“More like recognize it for what it was,” he replied, taking last sips of his soda.
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess…” Donovan handed me his cup to pitch in the garbage can near me. “I had all these sports memorabilia in my room as a kid, and I’d get super invested in players.”
“I don’t understand. Didn’t we all?” My childhood room was full of things I loved too, including baseball stuff.
“Sort of hard to explain…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “What I didn’t realize until recently was that I was obsessing about more than their stats.”
“Ooh, gotcha.”
Donovan chuckled a little, and so did I. Not a conversation I thought I’d be having with one of my teammates. But now I was grateful for it as memories began flooding my brain. Including a vivid one about a certain customer at the bowling alley, whom I enjoyed—really enjoyed—talking to when I was a teen. My older brother sometimes looked at me funny when I’d make excuses to head over to his lane just to listen to the guy’s conversations with his friends. Had that been a crush or just admiration?
“Anything else you want to talk about?” Donovan asked with a curious look as he collected the rest of his things. I followed suit, wondering how I should answer that. Did he know I was beating around the bush? Would he call me out on it?
My pulse throbbed double time. Just stay cool. I certainly wasn’t ready to talk about the obvious, at least not until I’d figured it out for myself.
“Nah,” I said, standing up to head out. “Thanks, though.”
He patted my back as if in sympathy. “Always here, man.”
It started raining on the way to class, but I made it under the hangar in the nick of time. I spotted Maclain across the way, sprinting toward the Weller building, trying to avoid the fat raindrops pouring down. His hair was slightly damp, the back of his shirt clinging, and catching him unawares like that stopped me in my tracks. Not that I’d never seen him soaked during games in inclement weather, those baseball pants clinging to his hips. Jesus.
Truth was, when Maclain wasn’t trying so hard to prove his bravado, he exuded this unassuming sexiness. He didn’t even realize it was rolling off him in waves. From his long eyelashes to his charismatic smile—when he allowed himself one—to the way his cheeks turned pink even while his eyes stayed cautious. And those hands, talented enough to throw a ball clocking in under ninety miles per hour.
Add in the humble way he’d responded after my father complimented him last week, and this crush was getting ridiculous. Somehow, I wanted to be around him despite his flaws and being a grumpy fucker. When we were stacking the boxes in my apartment, I almost asked him to stay a while, but then chickened out.
I’d stick to my fantasies for the time being because Maclain would never admit that the tension between us was more than just a clash of personalities. And even if he did, what the hell would we do with that information? We were already uncomfortable enough around each other.
But I wished we could at least talk about it without him shutting me down at every turn. Mason Maclain was one of the most stubborn people I’d ever met and breaking down his defenses might prove fruitless. I should try ignoring him as much as he did me. But it really wasn’t my style. Sure, I gave it back to him good, if only to get a rise out of him and remind me that he had blood pumping through those veins.
As I slid into a seat in my e-commerce class, I considered the other option. The one where maybe all these thoughts about Maclain were one-sided, and it was only wishful thinking that his resistance meant something. Maybe he just wasn’t very interested in getting to know me better. Except sometimes—okay, a lot of the time—I could feel him watching me, studying me, trying to figure me out too. So there was that. It only served to make me more curious, and I’d keep pressing on. I told myself it was to make Coach’s wish come to fruition, for the sake of the game.
After class, the rain was coming down even harder, and I cursed myself for not wearing a hoodie. I was fast-walking through the square when suddenly Maclain was beside me, doing the same thing, but at least he’d been smart enough to throw on his ball cap.
“Fuck this weather,” Maclain said as the rain pelted our faces. “Glad we’re not playing in this shit.”
“Right?” As we passed a recycling bin, I reached for a large collapsed box propped on its side. “Here, take the other end.” I held the cardboard over our heads, encouraging Maclain to step beneath it with me.