Never Have I Ever: Had a Bromance with a Teammate

The energy in the stadium was electric. I could feel it buzzing in the air as I got into my stance. It was the first game of the season, and we were killing it.

It was the top of the sixth, and we were ahead by one. Time to kick things into high gear.

I glanced at the UW player sauntering up to the plate, then looked at both Coach Nix on first and Coach H on third. Neither of them gave me a signal.

At this point in the game, I’d seen enough at bats to have a good feel for what each player could do. This guy was their leadoff hitter, and he favored pitches that teased the top of the batter’s box.

The player took a couple of leisurely swings a few feet from the plate, a cocky grin on his lips.

Whatever. We’d struck him out twice, and I’d gotten his ass out on a bad steal to second. His mind games wouldn’t work on me.

The umpire made a warning sound, and the player stepped into the box and took his stance.

“Play!”

Matt got into his ready position, his eyes on me.

I used our system to call the pitch. Matt nodded. He only did that before the first pitch of an inning as part of his ritual. Otherwise, my man was rock solid and steady.

What? No. Not my man. I couldn’t think of him like that during a game.

Snap.

The sting of the ball hitting my glove knocked me back into reality, and I closed my hand instinctively.

Shit. I’d completely zoned out. I’d have missed that pitch if Matt didn’t have such deadly accuracy.

The UW player grunted in frustration, and I threw the ball back to Matt.

Focus, Crawford. You’re in the middle of a fucking game.

Matt managed another strike before the guy got lucky on a slider and grounded it to third. By the time Adams had scooped it up and beamed it to Cooper on first, the fucker was safe on base.

“We’ll get it back,” I called when Matt gave me a grim look.

The next batter swung wide on the first pitch. The runner on first took off for second as soon as Matt let go of the ball, but I held back from picking him off. He was quick, and I wasn’t about to risk a wild throw if I wasn’t sure I’d get him.

The next pitch was a perfect fastball, and the guy didn’t even attempt to swing.

“Strike!”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Matt caught my throw, giving me a little smile. We got this, it said.

I nodded, since my mask made it impossible to see my face from the mound. We had this.

The guy got lucky on the next pitch and grounded one between second and shortstop. Petey managed to scoop it up from his position in left field, but with the lead runner already safe on second, he couldn’t get the ball to Cooper quick enough to get the out at first.

“You’ve got this, Landry,” Cooper shouted from first base and threw the ball to him.

Matt nodded and got back into position.

The next batter stepped up to the plate. He was their only lefty batter, and Matt had managed to strike his ass out three times by switching up his curve and slider.

A curve from a southpaw pitcher could fuck up the best right-handed batter because they hugged the outside corner until they broke over the plate. For another lefty, they hugged the inside, making it seem like the pitch was gunning straight for them. Matt’s curve had an incredibly late break, something to do with how he gripped the ball and a wrist motion he’d learned from one of his private coaches. He’d made more than one lefty, including this kid, scamper away from perfect pitches out of fear that they were about to get clocked.

Matt’s first pitch came in blazing fast and snapped into my glove without me having to move it. A perfect strike.

“Ball.”

Matt’s mouth dropped open.

Ball? That had been a textbook curve. No fucking way was it a ball. Gritting my teeth, I threw the ball back to Matt.

Umpires were human, and they made mistakes. This ump had been fair so far. Time to dial back the adrenaline and focus on the game.

This time I called for a slider. Lefty to lefty, the pitch would come in hot and break down and to the outside.

Matt glanced at first, then released the pitch.

The batter swung but pulled back before making contact with the ball, and it dropped into my waiting glove.

The ball had been too low to be a strike, but a swing was a swing. The bat crossed the plate. Strike one.

“Did he go?”

I looked behind me. The plate ump was pointing at his colleague behind first.

“No.” The other ump made the safe sign. “He did not go.”

My jaw dropped. The fuck? He’d broken the plate.

Matt caught the ball, his face pink. He was getting worked up. Bad calls happened in sports, and we learned to put them behind us, but two back-to-back would get in anybody’s head.

His next pitch was outside, which gave the batter his third ball.

Slow down, I coached silently as Matt checked the bases.

His last pitch, a fastball, was textbook perfect. It came in hot and high and steamed right past the batter just above his beltline.

“Take your base.”

“What?” Matt exclaimed.

The batter tossed his bat with a chuckle and jogged over to first while the other two runners advanced.

The bases were full, and Matt had his first walk of the game on four bullshit calls.

“Time?” I asked the ump.

“Time is called!” He made the signal. “Thirty seconds,” he said so soft only I could hear.

I nodded and jogged over to the pitcher’s mound, tugging off my mask and helmet.

“That was fucking bullshit,” Matt growled, his eyes flashing.

“I know.” I shoved my headgear under my arm and put the ball in his glove. “Take a few deep breaths. What’s done is done.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“You good?”

He nodded.

“You’ve got this.” I smacked his shoulder with my glove, then slowly made my way back to home plate, fiddling with my headgear to give Matt some extra time to center himself.

Their cleanup batter was up, the phenom Matt had managed to strike out twice, and who’d popped out on his last at bat.

Having the bases loaded with this kid at the plate could be a disaster, but I had faith Matt could keep his cool.

I got into position and nodded over my shoulder at the ump.

“Play.” He ended the time out.

Not pulling any punches, I called for a high curve. If he did manage to get ahold of it, the angle and spin should drive it into the ground, and our infield could work their magic.

Crack.

The echo of the bat connecting with the ball sent a rush of adrenaline through me. I jumped up and tracked the ball, which bounced over third base. Shit, that was close. It could go either way.

“Foul!”

Thank fuck. Strike one.

We got ready, and the ump called for play to resume.

We tried another curve, only this one high. I wasn’t taking any chances with this kid.

He swung early, and this time the ball zipped down the first baseline.

“Foul!”

Strike two.

The ump put the ball back in play, and this time I called for a low inside curve.

Matt’s delivery was off, and he dropped his shoulder in that split second before he released the ball.

The pitch came in hot and high with almost no spin.

Crack.

The players all sprang into action at the hit, but my attention was on Matt. The ball flew at him at breakneck speed.

My breath caught in my throat. I jumped up and ripped off my headgear, my mouth open in a silent shout.

The impact was lightning-fast. One second Matt was raising his arms, and the next he crumpled to the ground in a heap, the ball rolling toward third as his cap fluttered to the ground behind him.

“Matt?” I took a step toward him, but Adams sprinted to the ball.

Fuck. The ball was still in play. Matt wasn’t moving, but the ump wasn’t calling time.

Fuck!

Adams scooped up the ball and pivoted midair.

Instinctively, I caught it, my foot already on the plate.

“Out!”

Before the ump had even finished his call, I threw the ball to Cooper.

“Out!”

His throw to second wasn’t fast enough, and the runner was safely on the base when it fell into Hayes’s waiting glove.

Now that the play was dead, all eyes turned to the mound, where Matt lay still.

I didn’t remember making the decision to run to him. One second I was in front of the plate, and the next I was sliding across the sand and coming to a stop next to my fallen boyfriend.

“Babe?” I lifted one hand to touch him but pulled back at the last second. I had no idea where he was hurt. Touching him could make it worse.

“Fine,” he croaked and rolled onto his back.

His eyes were wide, his face chalky white, and his lips had a blueish tinge to them. A pink spot stained his forehead.

Fuck! What did that mean? Had he gotten hit in the head?

People were shouting. The crowd was deadly quiet, but all I could focus on was Matt.

“Deflected,” he gasped. “Stunned.”

“Fuck.” I gripped his shoulder and soaked in the fact that he was conscious and talking.

“Move back, Crawford.”

All three of our coaches and two trainers swarmed the mound, closing in on Matt.

His eyes darted around at all the people crowding him, the building panic clear as day.

Fuck. He was on the verge of a panic attack. He needed me.

“Back off, Jax.”

Strong hands gripped my shoulders and hauled me away from the chaos around the mound.

My fear melted into rage, and I spun away from whoever the fuck had taken me away from Matt when he needed me.

“Calm the fuck down.” Cooper got right in my face, his eyes filled with sympathy.

“I need to—”

“You need to back the fuck off and let them take care of him.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me toward home plate.

I shook him off, my rage flaring into something all-consuming.

Fuck him. Fuck the game. Fuck everyone.

He grabbed me around the middle and hauled me into a sort of bear hug. The move startled me, but it also locked my arms down so I couldn’t do something stupid like take a swing at him.

“Stop and think about what you’re doing,” he said in my ear. “You do not want to out yourselves like this. Not in the middle of a game.”

The rage turned ice cold in my veins as his words registered.

He knew about us?

“I know you’re scared.” He let go of me and took a half step back so we wouldn’t look suspicious while they tended to Matt.

I flicked my gaze to the mound. Fuck. He wasn’t getting up. Why wasn’t he getting up?

“Look at me,” he said sharply.

I did, my head spinning with all the worst-case scenarios flashing in my mind.

“Take a knee.”

I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but dropped down. Every other player on the field and most of the guys in the dugout had taken a knee to show respect to Matt while they tended to him.

“I don’t think it hit him. Not directly.”

“No?” I held my breath. Cooper shook his head.

“No. He got his glove up. I’m almost positive I saw it deflect off his glove. But it was close.”

With Matt being a lefty, he ended each pitch facing first base. Cooper would have had an unobstructed view of the impact.

“He said that. Said he was just stunned.”

I turned my attention to first base and the batter who’d hit him. A hit from a line drive wasn’t common, but they happened. The odds that the kid had timed it or had aimed to hit him were low, and the chances of him succeeding if he had were insanely low. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten a bit of a thrill at getting Matt back for ruining what was supposed to be his breakout game.

The kid looked horrified, one hand over his mouth, the other on his stomach, as he stared at the mound.

“They’re calling us.” Cooper grabbed my arms and dragged me to my feet.

We ran over to where Matt was sitting up, flanked by two trainers.

“What’s going on?” Cooper and I asked together.

“I’m pulling Landry and sending him off on concussion protocol.”

“Concussion?” My stomach roiled.

“I’m fine.” Matt rolled his eyes as the trainers helped him to his feet. “I deflected it.”

“Your glove still hit your forehead,” Coach said, his voice gruff and tinged with worry. “I don’t care what the school says. Every head injury is treated as a possible concussion.”

“It’s not an injury, just a little bump,” Matt protested. “And I can stand up on my own.” He glared at the trainers still holding his arms.

“A bump is an injury. I refuse to put any of you boys at risk for a game. You’ll go see the team doc, and she’ll determine if you’re okay. That’s why she gets paid the big bucks.”

Matt gave Coach a grumpy look but didn’t protest. He gave me a small smile. “I’m fine.”

I nodded woodenly.

Coach was a stickler for safety. He’d told us that he’d seen some horrible outcomes when players were forced to play through injuries in his twenty-five years of coaching and that he’d always err on the side of caution when one of us got hurt.

I’d never appreciated his policy more than I did at that moment. Getting pulled from a game sucked, but athletes were competitive fuckers, taught from day one that the win was everything. That you sacrificed whatever you had to in order to get that W and pain was just something you dealt with.

Head injuries weren’t something you fucked with. People died from concussions.

Nope. Not thinking about that. Matt was standing and smiling and seemed okay. He was fine. He had to be fine.

“Take care of yourself, Matt,” Cooper said as the trainers led Matt away.

“Take care,” I said gruffly, choking back the words I wanted to say. The crowd and players cheered, their screams so loud they reverberated in my chest.

Matt raised his hand to them in a wave, telling them he was fine. They cheered until he was off the field. Logan was trotting on, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Nine pitches, then it’s game.”

The plate ump’s voice startled me. When had he come up behind me?

“Got it.” I looked around for the ball. Everyone dispersed and went back to their positions.

The ump pulled a new one out of his pouch and handed it to me.

“Nine,” I repeated to Logan.

He took the ball and nodded grimly.

Somehow, we won the game. The last batter had struck out on three easy pitches, showing just how rattled everyone was.

The next three and a half innings went by in a blur. I moved on autopilot, half my attention on the game and the other half on Matt and praying he really was fine.

When the game was finally called, we shook hands, then filed into the changing room, somber and quiet despite the win.

We showered and changed, everyone talking in low voices as we waited for Coach to come in and give us news.

“Listen up.”

We all turned toward the door.

“I talked to the team doc and to Landry. He’s going to be fine.”

The relief that washed over me stole my breath, and I sank down on the bench in front of my locker as my knees gave out.

“He’s going to sit out from workouts over the weekend as an extra precaution, but Doc is confident he’ll be good to play next week.”

A low murmur rose in the room.

“I know you’re all freaked out by what happened. I am too.” Coach blew out a breath.

Baseball wasn’t a contact sport, especially not at college level. Players didn’t get hurt often, and it rattled everyone when someone did.

“But it’s time to put it behind us and focus on the next game. What happened was a freak accident. But Landry is okay, and we won. That’s what you need to think about. Nothing else.”

Several players made sounds of agreement, and others nodded.

“Now get changed and go have a well-deserved night off.”

“Come on.” Cooper appeared next to me as Coach left the locker room.

I followed him into Coach’s office.

“Doc released Landry, and Bryant took him home.”

I nodded. Awesome. Now I just needed Coach to stop talking so I could go make sure Matt was fine.

“But there’s something we need to talk about,” he continued.

“What?” My stomach lurched.

“How do you want to handle things with the team?” Coach asked.

“I don’t understand.”

Holy shit. Did he know about us?

“You and Landry.”

“What?” I gaped at him.

“Pick your chin up off my floor, Crawford.” He chuckled. “The way I see it, you can either keep it quiet, or you can tell the team. We’ll support whatever you choose. When I asked Landry, he just said, ‘ask Jax. I’ll do whatever he wants.’”

“I…”

“There’re no rules against teammates being in a relationship. I know it’s a tricky spot to be in, but if you and Landry want to be open about things, you have my full support. If you think hiding is better, then we’ll do that.”

“I… what do you think?”

I couldn’t make this decision right now. Not when I was hopped up on adrenaline and my head was spinning.

Who else knew about us? How had they figured it out?

“I think you’d be surprised by how supportive people will be,” Cooper said, his tone careful.

“What do you mean? Who else knows?”

He put up his hands. “No clue. I haven’t talked to anyone about this because it’s not my business. I’m just saying that you two being together makes sense. It probably won’t be the shocking announcement you think it is.”

“But what if it makes waves on the team? Then what?” I turned to Coach. “I get benched for my senior season?”

“Who the fuck is talking about benching you?” Coach blinked.

“If the team isn’t okay with things, then you’ll have to play Matt and sit me out.”

“Why would I do that?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Because…”

“I play the best players for the position. You and Landry have been making magic behind the plate for three years. If someone has issues with you two, then they can sit their ass on my bench and watch someone else be a team player.”

“Really?” I stammered.

“I do what’s best for my team, and egos be damned. That’s the beauty of being head coach. I make the decisions, and no one questions me as long as I keep bringing home the wins. You and Landry get me wins. Anything else?”

“You’re not freaked out?”

He smirked. “Kid, I’ve been a coach for a long time. Was a player long before that. You really think you’re the first guys to have a relationship on a team?”

I gaped at him, and he chuckled. “The difference is that now you have the choice to be open about it. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we’ll stand behind you if that’s what you choose.”

“I… I need to talk to Matt before I decide anything. This isn’t just about me.”

“Go.” Coach dismissed. “But I expect to see your ass at workouts this weekend.”

“Of course.”

“Come on. I’ll drive you.” Cooper motioned for me to follow him.

“How did you know?” I asked when we were in his car and he was pulling out of the lot. “About us.”

“Well, you calling him babe when he was down was a pretty obvious tip-off.”

“Shit.” I hadn’t even realized I’d said it.

“But I figured it out a while ago. There wasn’t some moment where it clicked or anything. I just had a feeling.”

“And Coach? Did you tell him?”

“I went to get an update on Matt, and he told me to bring you into his office so he could talk to you after his announcement. The way he said it made me realize that he knew too.”

“What do you think about it?” I looked at my hands.

“Not my business to think anything. You and Landry are tight. I always thought Matt was straight, but whatever.” He shrugged. “The only thing I care about is how you work together on the field. I don’t give a shit what you do on your own time.”

“So you’d be cool with us not hiding things? Being affectionate around each other?”

“I might have an issue if you guys get a little too into it.” He grinned. “Then you’d just remind my sorry ass that I’m single.”

I blew out a breath at his joke. He really seemed like he was okay with it. How the fuck was that possible?

“But do what you want. Why should you have to hide your affection just because you’re dudes? And I’ll happily shut down anyone who does have an issue. Captain’s privilege.”

“You like the power of being captain. Admit it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He chuckled.

“Thanks, Coop. For earlier. I lost my head and—”

“Don’t even think twice about it. I would have reacted the same way watching someone I love go down like that.”

“Can I ask why you’re cool with Matt and me?”

He shot me a sidelong look. “My sister is bi, and two of my best friends from high school just got engaged. Two of my best guy friends,” he said. “Gay, straight, bi, whatever. Love is love, and I’ll always stand up to anyone who thinks otherwise.”

My throat and chest constricted as a wave of emotion hit. Relief, exhaustion, delayed happiness that we won, and the adrenaline drop from the game and seeing Matt get hurt. But also from coming clean and learning that both my coach and captain have my back and that maybe my team would too.

“Text me later and give me an update on Landry.” Cooper pulled in front of Matt’s house. “And you don’t have to decide anything now. Figure it out, and we’ll talk at workouts.”

“Thanks.”