Page 108 of Tagging Bases

I suck their semen off my fingers, relishing the tangy taste. I’m about to suggest we head back to their place—or mine, since we never hang there—for round two, when the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat makes me freeze.

I glance over my shoulder to see the same two police officers who arrested all of us on New Year’s Eve standing a few feet away, arms crossed and smirking.

“What do we have here?” the taller one drawls. “Looks like you boys had a good time.”

His partner chimes in. “While that was certainly astimulatingshow, I’m afraid public indecency is still against the law.”

Charlie and Daniel stare at me with wide, panicked eyes.Busted.

I leap to my feet, grabbing Charlie and Daniel by their arms and yanking them up. “Run!” I hiss, already taking off through the park.

Charlie and Daniel don’t need to be told twice. They stumble after me, their pants still undone and soiled jackets flapping behind them as we sprint across the grass.

“Stop!” one of the officers shouts. Heavy footfalls and curses tell me they’ve given chase.

My heart pounds in my ears as we weave through the trees, darting around benches and trash cans. I chance a glance over my shoulder and immediately wish I hadn’t.

The cops are gaining on us, determination etched on their faces. As I turn back around, a loud zap splits the air, followed by a yelp of pain.

Charlie hits the ground hard, his body convulsing as the Taser’s electric current courses through him. Before Daniel or I can react, another zap sounds, and Daniel crumples next to Charlie, twitching and groaning.

“Fuck!” I skid to a stop, torn between helping my boyfriends and making a break for it. But it’s too late to do either. The officers descend on us, roughly flipping Daniel and Charlie onto their stomachs and wrenching their arms behind their backs.

“Harrison Price,” the taller cop says, slightly out of breath as he approaches me. “Why am I not surprised?”

With a huff, I pop my hip and cross my arms over my chest. “Officer Kowalski. Nice to see you again.”

He snorts. “Right. Causing trouble as usual, I see.”

His partner has confusion written all over his face. “You two know each other?”

Officer Kowalski nods, pulling out his handcuffs. “Sure do. Harrison is my wife’s tenant. Though I’m starting to question her taste in renters.”

I hold my hands out in surrender as he snaps the cuffs around my wrists. “Look, this is all a big misunderstanding. Just like the last time.”

“Sure it is,” he cuts me off. “You can tell me about it down at the station.”

As he marches me toward the squad car, I glance back at Charlie and Daniel. They glare at me from their prone positions on the pavement, clearly annoyed that I got off with only handcuffs while they suffered the indignity of being tased…again.

I offer them an apologetic shrug before Officer Kowalski shoves me into the backseat.

The night definitely didn’t go as planned. But then again, with the three of us, does it ever?

Epilogue

Charlie

Two Years Later

I cannot believeI’m here. My junior year at Ashford University was all about baseball for Daniel and me. We were on fire that season, winning games left and right with some serious teamwork magic. Every scout on this side of the Mississippi River showed up at Finn Field with their clipboards and fancy pens, making me sweat bullets every time they scribbled something down.

And then the Yankees called my name on draft day, and I entered total freak-out mode. Dreams don’t usually come true for guys like me without some cosmic punchline attached.

Harrison and Daniel were there when I got the call. Both of them acted cooler than cucumbers in an icebox while I ran around like a headless chicken. Even now, thinking about it makes me want to pinch myself until I’m black and blue.

I glance out of the dugout and see everyone I know in the first row, excited to see me make my major league debut. My parents, Daniel and his parents, Harrison and his boss/friend Danielle, Coach Bryant, and all the guys who played with me back at Ashford U.

And, of course, Roy. Two years sober, that guy is. I couldn’t be prouder of him.

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