Ah, shit.
I spun back to the door and flicked the chain for something to do.
Holy crap, Chase Garcia was agod.
Go away, erection. Go away. Bad timing.
“Ready?”
He was right at my shoulder, and I could feel the warmth of him radiating on my arm.
No! Bad dick! Back! Behave!
I nodded and pulled the door open, praying that my one hundred and ninety dollar jeans were going to be able to contain my massive—amount of lust.
Chase pulled the door closed, and I realized he’d changed into a Cubs’ jersey. A real home game one. A Javier Baez, with the number ‘9’ on the back.
“Damn, you really are a fan.”
He smirked, and whipped out a real home game cap, and slipped it on to his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a game. And we’re headed to enemy territory. I need to gird my loins.”
Erg, so did I.
Eventually, the pressure went down as we walked toward the subway. I pulled out my phone and checked the trains we needed. I wasn’t ashamed in having no idea where Citi Field was earlier in the week. I was a Cubs fan, not a Mets fan. But as it turned out, it was way closer than Yankee Stadium and we just had to change at Grand Central for the 7 Train to Mets-Willets Point.
Easy.
Also, kind of fun. Living in New York was still a bit of a novelty to me, so taking the trains and saying things like ‘the 7 train’ made me feel like I knew what I was doing.
Getting on the 7 at Grand Central, we were politely, and good naturedly booed as we took our seats. Chase was laughing, and I stood and gave everyone the finger. They booed and laughed louder and I sat down.
“I didn’t realize they werefriendly,” Chase hissed.
“Most places you go, the sports teams are a friendly competition,” I answered. “The only place you’ll ever feel threatened is by the bleacher creatures, and in Philadelphia. Don’t ever go to a game in Philly decked out in the opposing team. They will hound your ass.”
He laughed. “Is that experience?”
“Damn straight.” I nodded. “Dad took us once and that was a disaster. We bought cheap Phillies T-shirts and changed in the bathrooms.”
Chase was laughing, hard. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, but the cheesesteak was worth it.”
Shaking his head, we watched the dark tunnels flicker by as the wheel screamed along the metal tracks. The light from the car shone off cables attached to the wall, and we sped under the East River out toward Queens and the baseball game.
I really hoped that this was enough of an apology. Because being near someone as hot andniceas Chase was absolutely going to leave me with zipper imprints on my dick.
CHASE
MARCUS HAD ABSOLUTELYSHOCKED MEwith the tickets. I had no idea he felt that bad about skipping out on the furniture moving party. I would have been less forceful on the whole thing if I knew guilt was going to play into it.
At the same time, the guy was really excited to be going to a game.
Frankly, so was I. I hadn’t been in years. I’d gone once or twice when I’d first gotten to the city, seeing if I could pledge my sort-of allegiance to either the Mets or the Yankees. While the Yankees had been fun, cheering against my whole childhood in favor of the Mets had not happened.
Eventually, I just forgot about it. There was no one to enjoy the games with anyway. And going on my own wasn’t washing away the hurt.
This, though, in my native ritual dress, with someone also in their ritual dress, had the potential to be a shit ton offun. I knew we were going to be ribbed and teased, but as long as we weren’t in with the bleacher creatures, we’d be just fine.
