Page 42 of Stealing Home

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” Dom hit send before he could lose his nerve, then immediately threw the phone onto the counter like it had shocked him. “Shit. I’m an idiot.”

His phone buzzed less than thirty seconds later. He absolutely didn’t sprint the three steps back to it.

Gavin

I’d like that.

What time?

Dom smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

Dom

Seven?

The reply came almost immediately.

Gavin

Works for me.

Dom

See you then.

He stared at the screen for another second before locking his phone and setting it on the counter.

“Well,” he said to Lucia, who smiled when he looked her way. “I guess we’re having company tonight.”

She answered by blowing a stream of drool bubbles.

“Excellent point,” Dom said with a laugh as he plucked her from the high chair.

The rest of the morning passed in the familiar blur of chaos that had become his new normal. He packed the diaper bag, loaded Lucia into her infant carrier, and then unloaded her again when he realized he’d forgotten the bag of supplies to replenish his locker stash. By the time they finally made it to the team’s new daycare, he was only three minutes behind schedule, which meant he was basically early.

Practice was mercifully uneventful. Coach Reyes spent most of it working the infield through defensive drills before moving them to batting practice. Dom found it hard to focus, and he missed more balls than he hit when it was his turn at bat.

Gavin would be at his house at seven. The thought caught him off guard more than once. He’d invited plenty of teammates over before. Evan and CJ had open invitations and his parents would descend on the house without notice if they happened to be in California. None of that had ever made him check the clock between rounds in the batting cage or catch himself wondering if there was enough Parmesan in the refrigerator.

It was just dinner. That was all. A thank you that he’d promised Gavin weeks ago, and now they finally had a free evening. Nothing more. Dom repeated that to himself often enough that by the time practice ended, he almost believed it.

As they walked off the field, Dom pulled his batting gloves off and shoved them in his back pocket. The clubhouse buzzed with the familiar post-practice routine. Music thumped somewhere near the showers while guys drifted toward their lockers and traded insults. Skipping a shower after practice wasn’t his usual routine, but he was in a rush to get home.

CJ tossed his glove into his locker and looked over at Dom.

“So,” he said, “movie night?”

Dom looked up from unlacing his cleats. “Huh?”

“You, me, Evan,” CJ said slowly. “We don’t have to be back here until tomorrow afternoon, so tonight seems like the perfect night to eat something terrible and make fun of an even worse movie.”

“Oh,” Dom said. He smiled apologetically. “I can’t tonight.”

Both Evan and CJ stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

“You can’t,” Evan repeated.

“Yeah.”