CJ had spent the better part of the spring trying to get Evan to even look at him, and Evan had barely been able to manage politeness. Every exchange had been sharp and pointed. Questions had been answered in clipped syllables, and conversations only happened out of obligation and had ended as soon as humanly possible. If they’d been assigned to the same drill group, the tension had been visible from across the field, and the rest of the team had learned quickly not to joke about it. Even players who weren’t aware that CJ and Evan had known each other in college could tell there was some sort of history.
Now, they leaned against the dugout railing together during games and CJ made Evan laugh between innings. Though Evan still took the game too seriously most days, so when it happened, it was still a shock.
Mason had nearly dropped a pouch of sunflower seeds the first time he heard it.
Luis had crossed himself dramatically and declared, “A miracle has occurred.”
And once, during a game, Coach Reyes had looked over to see Evan grinning at something CJ said and muttered, “Well, I guess hell froze over.”
In meetings, they sat together now, and CJ kept up a running commentary under his breath that made Evan almost choke from trying to swallow his laughter. During batting practices,Evan heckled CJ’s swings with devastating, deadpan precision while CJ returned fire loud enough for half the field to hear. They gravitated toward the same table at meals too, usually with a rotating cast of teammates who kept everything casual. Deniable.
CJ would slide into the chair across from Evan with his tray, and Evan would barely glance up. He might grunt in acknowledgment, and once, he shoved the salt across the table to CJ without him asking for it. Their conversations were very carefully directed at their teammates. Then, twenty minutes later, they’d be bickering over whether pineapple belonged anywhere near food, arguing over whichStar Warsmovie was better, or loudly debating which rookie on their team had the worst walk-up song.
To anyone looking, it was nothing more than former college teammates reconnecting and figuring out a new friendship. Nothing to see there at all.
Except CJ noticed how often Evan’s knee would nudge his under the table and then never move away. He noticed the way Evan would grab an extra fork because it was inevitable that CJ would forget one. And when the clubhouse was filled with bodies and noise, CJ knew Evan would track him instinctively because some part of him seemed to always be aware of where CJ was.
CJ slid into the seat beside Evan like he did every other day. Evan didn’t look up right away, his attention focused on the tablet propped against his water bottle, and CJ studied him for a minute. Moments like this still caught him off guard sometimes. If someone had told him at the start of spring training that he would be sitting this close to Evan—that Evan wouldallowhim to sit this close—CJ would have laughed in their face.
Now he knew Evan’s lunch routine. He knew that Evan always sat with his back to the wall if he could help it, and that he ate faster when he was annoyed and slower when he wasdistracted. And he could tell from across the room when Evan was deep into film study because he gnawed on his bottom lip while his left thumb tapped an offbeat rhythm against the edge of the tablet. He knew too many things. Like the fact that Evan being distracted was the perfect time to steal some fries from his plate.
Evan frowned at the tablet before rewinding it back to look at the pitcher’s release point, and CJ took the opportunity to reach over and steal a fry. Evan stilled, then slowly turned his head to look at CJ.
“Really?”
CJ shrugged and popped the fry in his mouth. “You didn’t seem like you were gonna eat it.”
“I was,” Evan exclaimed. “It was on my plate.”
“That doesn’t mean you were going to eat it.”
Evan stared at him for another second, then shook his head and turned back to the tablet. “You’re insufferable.”
CJ reached for another fry. This time, Evan smacked the back of his hand without looking, and CJ barked out a laugh that was loud enough to draw a glance from Mason and Luis, who were sitting two tables over. He grinned at them before turning to Evan.
“You hit me.”
“You were stealing.”
“It’s not stealing because we know each other.” The reasoning was sound in CJ’s mind.
Evan’s mouth twitched before he got it under control. “That’s not how theft works.”
“It is in friendship law.”
“There’s no such thing as friendship law.” Evan turned off the tablet with a sigh and turned his full attention to CJ.
“There should be,” CJ said with a serious nod. “I think I’m entitled to shared assets.”
“You’re entitled to getting your own lunch,” Evan retorted.
CJ grinned and settled back in his chair. He shouldn’t be this happy over snarky banter, but it was ridiculous how much he enjoyed these small exchanges. To anyone else, it looked like nothing more than two teammates arguing over fries, but to CJ, it was proof that something broken could be rebuilt. Hopefully stronger.
Evan looked at him suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“No reason.” CJ smiled innocently.
“That’s never true.”
