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“Jesus, if this is just not bad to you, I’d hate to see what you considergoodseats.”
“Honestly, sometimes I think I’d prefer to sit down there on the first base line. Catch a game ball. Something like that.”
He nodded and bit his lower lip for a second. “That’s fair. I’ve never caught a game ball, either.”
“Really?” I asked.
Another nod.
I stood and brushed my hands off. “Then let’s at least go sit outside and see if we can get lucky. Catch a ball.”
“I’d love to get lucky and catch some balls,” he murmured.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. “Honestly, though. Sometimes a fly comes our way. It’s worth a try, right?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You serious? I don’t even have a glove.”
“Of course I’m serious. I mean, we have the run of the box. We might as well enjoy ourselves. Glove notwithstanding.”
Bennett’s grin widened into a bright smile, and he stood, too. “Let’s do it.”
A few moments later, we were settled in comfy padded seats in front of the box, enjoying the chilly spring morning while the Guardians tossed the ball around, warming up for the game. Itwasn’t even a full-on exhibition, just a practice game that flew under the scheduling radar, and there wasn’t much of a crowd in attendance. We watched the Guardians take their places as the Hawks sent a player up to bat.
As the game started, I ducked away to grab us a couple of beers. When I returned, he was taking photos of the field on his phone. He spun around to face the box in order to take a selfie with the field behind him and spotted me returning. As soon as he caught sight of me, he put his phone away quickly and spun back around to face the field with a sheepish grin on his face.
“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “You’re allowed to take pictures, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. But I didn’t want you to catch me and think I was making a big deal out of what is clearly nothing to you.”
I handed him a beer and sipped from my full cup. “Next time, take one of both of us. What do you say?”
Bennett grinned and leaned in, pressing his shoulder against mine for a picture. “I’m sending this to the guys.”
As he leaned in, my heart rate quickened, the clean scent of him filling my nose and making my breath catch in my throat. Even my cock took notice, quickly getting half-hard. I adjusted in my seat to conceal the growing erection, praying he wouldn’t notice.
The first inning went quickly, and then the next, and the one after that. By the time the fourth inning rolled around, we were both cheering and high-fiving, and it seemed Bennett was having a great time, his cheeks pink from the beer and the cool spring air. During the fifth inning, a rogue ball came soaring our way and even though he didn’t have a glove on, Bennett leaped up and snatched it out of the air while I scrambled to get out of his way.
He held his arm up triumphantly. “I got it!”
I burned with pride for him. “You did!”
He immediately handed me his phone. “Here, take a pic. For the guys.” I did as he asked, snapping a quick photo of him holding the ball in front of his chest and beaming before I returned his phone to him, watching as he texted it to his friends.
We sipped our beers and chatted, getting to know one another and flirting as we talked, with little touches here and there and a few dick jokes sprinkled in. We talked about family. Bennett told me about his mom and sister, while I mentioned I was the only child and both my parents had passed away. We talked about hobbies. He loved kickball and hanging out with his friends. I confessed I didn’t have much in the way of hobbies, especially when he asserted that work didn’t count as a hobby. We even talked a little about past relationships. I told Bennett about how tired I was of seeing guy after guy who was only interested in taking what they could. He had little to say about his own dating history, but found mine fascinating.
During a lull in the conversation, Bennett reached over and touched my shoulder and my heart leaped into my throat. “I have a question, and I hope you’re not offended by it.” His ears turned a little pink, and I was charmed by how easily he blushed. When I nodded to indicate he could go on, words tumbled out of his mouth. “How old are you?”
I smiled immediately and exhaled, relieved that he wasn’t asking about money. “I’m forty-five. How old are you?”
“Thirty,” he said into his beer cup, not making eye contact.
I put my cup in the holder in front of me. “Does that matter?”
When he looked up, his dark brown eyes were wide. “Not to me, it doesn’t. I just didn’t want you to think I was… you know…”
“No… what?”
He sighed. “My friend Parker says that guys are only after sex or marriage. I didn’t want you to think I was necessarily after either one.”
