Page 57 of Left on Base

Back in the room, Jameson’s sprawled on his bed, Mookie on his chest. He lifts his head, grinning. “Damn, bro, Cam’s got nice tits.”

So that’s what he saw. I can’t even be mad—it’s my fault for not locking the door. Still, my jaw clenches.

I collapse on my bed, covering my face. The game’s in three hours, and I need to get my head right. But all I can think about is her strawberry lip gloss and how perfect she feels in my arms.

I grab my phone and send her the ticket link. “Camdyn’s taking Callie to the game,” I say, aiming for casual.

Jameson glances at me. “Don’t care.” His tone’s unreadable.

I can’t tell if he’s excited or worried. Honestly, he brought home a contraband cat without asking, so his opinion isn’t highon my list. My mind’s already at the game, wondering if she’ll wear my hoodie, wondering if maybe we’re not as finished as we pretend.

Every time I see her, something in me snaps. There’s this path I keep running, straight back to her, even though I know how it ends. It’s like the base path in baseball—these invisible lines drawn in the dirt, rules I’m supposed to follow. I can’t just run off into the grass and pretend the game doesn’t matter. I can’t take a shortcut or dodge what I feel for her.

When I’m with her, it’s all instinct. I round first, then second, chasing something I already lost, hoping maybe this time I’ll reach home safe. But the truth is, I’m trapped between the bases, caught in the open, because I can’t step outside these lines. I can’t avoid her and I can’t let her go, and I don’t know how to stop running.

CHAPTER 10

DUGOUT

CAMDYN

The fenced areas down the first and third baselines in which each team is designated to remain when not playing in the game.

Okay, well, I went to say hi to him and left with cum dripping down my legs and wearing his hoodie. Nice.

Oh, sorry. My bad. Maybe you didn’t want to hear about the cum, or didn’t need to, but deal with it—because I am. It’s messy and uncomfortable, and I want to change my clothes. The things they don’t tell you about college hookups and the awkward walk back to your dorm.

Did I mention awkward?

Yeah, that too, because I’m walking funny and I know people are watching—or maybe it just feels that way. The late afternoon sun hits the brick buildings, making everything golden and pretty, which feels like a slap in the face compared to how I’m feeling right now: messy, confused, and kind of floating.

And then I said I was going to his game?

Jesus. What was I thinking?

Wait, holy shit. I’m actually going to his game?

The elevator doors catch my reflection in the brushed metal. I glance down at what I’m wearing. The purple hoodie with “HUSKY BASEBALL” stretched across the chest in white letters practically swallows me whole. Should I change out of his hoodie?

Wait. What if he gets mad I’m wearing it in public? Maybe he won’t care?

I look down at it again, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne mixed with leather and grass, that distinct baseball smell that clings to players.

I don’t want to change, though. It’s soft and warm and... his.

Oh my God, I’m overthinking this to an Olympic degree. I at least need to change my leggings and underwear because, well, they’re wet.

Thankfully, my dorm isn’t far from Jaxon’s. As soon as I open the door, Callie’s eyes find mine. She glances at the disaster zone that is my bed—practice gear scattered everywhere, cleats tossed haphazardly, my game-day visor hanging off the bedpost, one batting glove on the floor, the other on my bed. I’d thrown it all there before racing to Jaxon’s dorm an hour ago. Probably looked like I’d been kidnapped by the softball gods.

Callie eyes me suspiciously, tucking her feet underneath as she sits cross-legged on her bed. “Girl, where have you been?”

“I just got back.” Clearly a lie, but whatever. “I need to change clothes.” Because I have cum dripping down my legs. Not that I’m telling her that. I could—she wouldn’t judge me—but there’s a part of me that wants to keep it private. Being with Jaxon now is exciting and forbidden and, yeah, I hate to admit it, but it’s fucking thrilling to be the one nobody knows about. The secret hookup with the star catcher? I’m not telling her.

“Oh.” She gives me a serious look. “I had to walk to class with Sage, and she made me walk all the way around the building soshe could see King, and he wasn’t even there. Just some other guys doing long toss on the field.”

I plop down on my bed, the familiar squeak of the old dorm mattress filling the silence. “Wait. Sage likes King now?”

“Yes. It’s so annoying. I don’t see why. He’s so... cocky and rude. Always walking around like he owns the place because he throws ninety-five.”

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