Page 11 of Switch Pitching

As I lie there half awake, I remind myself of the rule I’ve set: don’t get attached. Sure, James is a cool guy, but there’s nothing more to it. There can’t be. He’s straight. Just focus on baseball and on building a solid friendship.

I turn off the lights, and before long, I drift off to the sound of James’s even breathing.

6

JAMES

APRIL

Oh boy, I’ve been waiting for this. It’s our chance to have one crazy night before we start the season. This is our first and only full weekend off, and I want to make the most of it.

After a particularly grueling final training and a quick shower, I grab my phone and shoot a quick text to Ethan.

I got beer. Meet at yours?

He replies almost instantly.

Sounds good, come whenever

Perfect. Now I have to change and get my ass to his room. Ever since I crashed there a few weeks ago, Ethan’s room has become our default hangout spot. He has a bigger TV than I do, so one day, I brought my video game console over and set it up while he was in the shower.

Worst decision of my life. MyCall of Dutywin streak came to a dramatic and abrupt end, never to be resurrected, the minute Ethan got his hands on one of my controllers.

But we’re on the same side tonight, and I want to have fun with Ethan and the team. I plug my phone into the charger and head straight for the closet, grabbing my favorite pair of jeans and a simple button-down. Smoothing the fabric across my chest, I put my shirt on and then run some gel through my hair before checking the mirror one last time.

I walk up to Ethan’s door and knock, rocking on the heels of my sneakers. It’s only a couple of seconds before I hear movement. The door opens, and Ethan is standing there in a t-shirt and sweats.

“Hey,” he says, giving me a small smile.

“Let’s get the night started,” I reply, pulling a pack of beer out of my bag and thrusting it into Ethan’s arms. “Crack one of these open while you get dressed.”

He wrests a can out from the pack and heads into his room.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” I ask, following him inside.

Ethan tosses me a can and shrugs. “No clue. I thought you were gonna do the planning.”

That’s true, Ididpromise that earlier. I’m always the social planner, and that’s my role wherever I go. Grinning, I take a swig of beer. “Just you wait. But you need to get dressed first. You’re not wearing sweatpants to the bar.”

Ethan scoffs. “What, this isn’t good enough for a night out?”

“Come on. We’re in Florida. Let’s find something decent for you.”

“Dude, I was kidding. Besides, I’m pretty sure I can find something for myself.”

Too late. I’m already standing in front of his closet. I open it, and it’s empty. Jerking my head over to Ethan, I fix him with a confused, questioning stare.

“I packed my stuff already,” he says, opening a suitcase. “We have to be out of here by Sunday, anyway.”

“Of course you’ve already packed.” I peer into his suitcase and run my hands through the neatly folded clothes. In contrast, my room is an unmitigated disaster right now, and I’m trying not to think about it.

Ethan smirks and takes another sip of beer. “Well, someone has to be organized between the two of us.”

Did Ethan just chirp me? Am I hearing things right? No matter what else happens, tonight is gonna rule.

My search through Ethan’s suitcase continues, but I’m met with an endless sea of solid colors and way too many plaid shirts. What the hell, does Ethan work as a lumberjack in the off-season or something?

I settle on a dark green polo and a pair of light-wash jeans, fishing them out and setting them on the bed.

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