“Get the plates, CJ,” he said.
His voice had been surprisingly steady. He drained the penne pasta, mixed in the vegetables, then drizzled olive oil over the pasta and sprinkled it with a generous grating of fresh parmesan.
CJ moved to the cabinet and pulled down two plates. He set them on the counter and leaned against it, watching Evan plate pasta and vegetables.
“You’re blushing,” CJ said finally.
“I’m standing over hot food.”
“Okay,” CJ said, amusement lacing his voice.
“You want dinner or not?”
“I want a lot of things.” CJ waggled his eyebrows and leered at Evan.
Evan shoved a plate into CJ’s chest. “Start with carbs.”
CJ took the plate, still grinning, and made his way to the small table by the windows overlooking the bay. Evan followed, and for a few minutes, they ate in comfortable silence. Then CJstabbed the penne with his fork, shoved it in his mouth, and stared contemplatively at Evan.
“You know,” CJ said. He lowered the fork and crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. “We don’t have to go.”
Evan frowned. “Go where?”
“The All-Star Game.”
Evan shook his head and snorted. “We can’t just skip it.”
“Players skip it all the time,” CJ pointed out. “All those players with mysterious tightness in some important part of their body that no one knew about until they backed out? You really think that’s legit?”
Evan chewed slowly, then leaned his elbows on the table and looked at CJ. “Why would you turn it down?”
CJ shrugged. “I’ve done it before. It’s a lot of standing around while people ask if you’re having fun.”
“You usually are having fun,” Evan pointed out.
“During the actual baseball parts, sure. But the rest of it? I can take or leave it.” CJ took another bite before speaking again. “Plus, you look like the idea of it makes you want to eat glass.”
Evan sighed and pushed his food around on his plate. “It’s supposed to be an honor.”
“It is,” CJ agreed.
“I’m supposed to appreciate it.”
CJ reached over and placed a hand on Evan’s arm, waiting for him to look up. “You can appreciate the honor and still not want the circus attached to it.”
Evan smiled faintly before turning to stare out the window. “If we decline,” he said carefully, “would you want to do something instead?”
CJ’s expression brightened instantly. “I’m so glad you asked.”
“I already regret it.” Evan turned back to his food. “Forget I said anything.”
“Too late,” CJ said. “Let’s go to a cabin.”
Evan narrowed his eyes. “A cabin.”
“Mountains. Trees. Maybe a lake.” CJ tilted his head and scanned Evan from head to toe. “Maybe you in a flannel, which suddenly seems important to me.”
“It’s July, and I don’t own flannel.”
