Force Play by Elle Brownlee

Author:Elle Brownlee [Brownlee, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay Romance
ISBN: 9781634766890
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2015-11-09T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

THE FLIGHT home from that series was subdued, and even Avery seemed disinclined to be nasty with Harmon. It was late Sunday, and they were all tired, weary from the long road trip and the additional scrutiny the incident on the field brought. Leaving, they all brushed away reporters and gathered their gear, emptying the visitor’s locker room in deliberate silence.

It was the first Harmon felt they were with him, as a team, instead of resentful about his presence marring their group. He couldn’t celebrate how it came about, but he wasn’t going to waste the opening. He’d taken advantage of others before, as the driving point of his father’s ruthless ambitions, and later to his own selfish ends. This angle he was working didn’t seem selfish, it seemed like self-preservation.

His anger continued to burn, a low smolder churning his insides. Playing with renewed motivation out of spite might not be the healthiest decision, but he didn’t have anything other than anger at the moment. Orin told him to trust his instincts and use every trick he had while mastering center field. Harmon saw that applying here.

Cameras clicked and reporters shouted questions at the team as they filed from the Jetway and through the terminal. Orin made a brief, blunt statement as he marched along.

“Kiel is sound and will be fit to play next game. I wish I could say the same for every other yahoo who shows up to the stadium on any given day.”

No one else on the team responded to the reporters as they walked, grouped loosely around Harmon, talking affably as they went and seeming unconcerned. They were given respite at the airport’s arrivals entrance, where security prevented the swarm from following them to the loading zone. After they boarded the bus taking them from the airport to the stadium, he perched in a frontward seat and drummed his fingers.

Caleb took the seat across from him but slid to the window so Gonzo could be at the aisle. Harmon waited until they got moving and started talking before years of ingrained habit and the past several months of wariness got in his way.

“Gonzo—just how many games under .500 are we?”

Caino, their first baseman and team statistician, answered. “Today’s loss makes it twenty-six.”

Harmon grunted. “And how many games left do we have?”

“Not quite fifty.” Avery stretched his legs and propped his feet on a seat up the aisle. “So what?”

“So. That’s enough games to make up the deficit.” Harmon felt the tiniest flicker of excitement come to life in his belly, already so hot with anger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about baseball as anything other than a chore. “And a few more besides.”

“Proving?” Avery sounded bored, but not quite belligerent.

“That we can do more than provide a punchline.” Gonzo nodded, and he started listing the teams they’d be facing in the upcoming weeks. “Against each of these we have a good chance to take the series—and if not, at least one game—to start clawing ourselves out of the dungeon.

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