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Once Aaron finally got in his stance again, I knew without a doubt that Ethan was throwing a slider. There was no way he would ever live it down if he didn’t throw a slider. Aaron would probably tell him the ante didn’t count if Ethan threw any pitch but a damn slider.
Ethan bit his lip and leaned in. The catcher wasn’t giving signals again which meant they probably spoke beforehand about Ethan’s plan.
He stood up to settle the ball into his grip, hidden by the glove. Then he wound up to throw and I held my breath.
I knew that no matter what, Aaron would do whatever he wanted.
As would I.
Ethan knew that too.
This wasn’t actually about asking me out.
This was about distinction, guts, and arrogance.
I was flushing with heat knowing that everyone—besides the three of us—in the entire stadium thought these two were playing baseball. Instead, they were playing War, and Ethan held all the Aces.
Aaron tried to swing, then he tried to stop his swing. But it was too late. His bat crossed the plate and he was just another victim of Ethan’s slider—a pitch that looked like a strike down the middle until it wasn't. He turned and walked back to the dugout quickly, giving Ethan a slight nod to acknowledge his defeat.
Ethan caught the return throw from the catcher and backed off the mound, a smile on his face. He turned to the stands and found me with a proud look on my face. He shot me quick wink and a small shrug.
“What was that all about?” The older woman next to me asked. She clearly saw the unchecked puerile of that at-bat.
“I told you, he’s nuts,” I answered without looking at her.
Ethan made quick work of the next batter and was walking off the field before I could think of something else to describe him.
Sexy, fervent, enticing, concupiscent.
I thought I would be rolling my eyes at this point. That I would be annoyed with his dumb bet.
But I was turned on. Stimulated.
And then it hit me.
What if I never looked at Ethan the same again? What if after tonight, everything changed forever?
I expected things to change but never seeing Ethan as Ethan again terrified me. I loved Ethan the way he was—crazy and all. I knew for one night, I would need to look at him as a lover. I thought I could handle that.
But this didn’t feel like a one-time thing.
This felt deep, visceral.
Reacting to him based solely on his cocky attitude while he was 100 yards away from me was not a good sign. It meant I didn’t have control over when and where I would desire him. It meant things were changing before they were supposed to.
I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to be his best friend for as long as I could.
I panicked. Again.
So I ran.
While Ethan was in the dugout and couldn’t see me, I made my way toward the exit and took a car back to the hotel.
I didn’t bother turning the game on. I no longer cared who won or how well Ethan pitched. All I cared about was analyzing this and myself one last time.
To see if I could do this.
To decide if I could make love with my best friend without any regrets.
