1. August

CHAPTER ONE

AUGUST

" Y ou going to shove that whole wiener in your mouth at one time?"

Griffin eyes the hotdog in his hand and then winks at me. "Nah. Just the tip this time." I watch in amusement as he licks the end of his hotdog bun and then bites off the end, chewing as his eyes roll back in his head. "Fuck, so meaty." He turns the end of his hot dog around so I can see where he took a bite. "And just look at that girth."

Harrison leans forward in his stadium seat and pulls his sunglasses down his nose. "Dude, do you need a minute alone with that thing? In a private room perhaps?"

"Hell no." Griffin smirks. "I like eating wieners out in the open. Right here in front of all of you. I know how much you like to watch." His brows shoot up. "In fact, I think you all need a good wiener experience. Where's that wiener man? WEINER MAN? I NEED YOUR BIG WEINERS!" he shouts as the crowd around us chuckles. I've never been more grateful to be wearing sunglasses but then this is Griffin's everyday behavior, so am I surprised?

Not in the slightest.

"Someone shut him up," Barrett mumbles from a few seats down before he tips back his beer and swallows what's left in his glass. "The last thing we need is the media writing headlines about the team's wiener obsession."

"You think I could deep throat this one, Bear?" Griffin asks, dangling the rest of his hotdog in front of his face with his mouth wide open. "Ten bucks says I could do two at one time."

"No bet,'" Barrett responds. I have to laugh as Oliver Magallan and I glance at each other. Even in the off-season Barrett "The Bear" Cunningham is in a grumpy mood.

"Dude, Bear, you alright down there big man?" I ask him. "You need someone to deep throat your wiener?"

"You offering, Blackstone?"

I rub my scruffy chin playfully and pretend I'm giving the idea some thought. "I tell you what, if the zombie apocalypse ever comes, I'll make sure you're well serviced right before we turn, alright? Instead of death coming for you, you will come hard for death."

"Fuck the zombie apocalypse. It's never going to happen." He shakes his head and wipes a few sweat beads from his forehead. Nothing like a ninety-five-degree July day to take in a baseball game with the guys. We're used to the cold temperatures around the ice so while this is a pleasant change, it's also hotter than Satan's taint out here.

"You know what you should worry about though?" Ledger Dayne adds to our conversation from behind us.

I turn my head slightly so he knows I'm paying attention. "What's that?"

"You should worry about the twat apocalypse, because that shit's already upon us, bro."

Playing along, I gasp, grab my phone, and swipe open my weather app. "A twat storm you say? Are we about to have an overwhelming number of twats at our disposal? You call that an apocalypse, but I call that a normal Saturday night."

"Riiiight." Griffin laughs beside me. "Like you've seen an influx of anything of the sort lately."

"What?" I shrug. "How do you know whether I have or haven't?"

"Uh, how about because you tell me about every piece of tail you capture. I'm like your virtual bed-post marker. The keeper of your fucks, if you will, and so I'll just come out and say, dear friend, it's been a hot minute for you."

My smile fades because damn, he's right. It has been a minute.

"Aww, it's okay August. We all go through dry spells once in a while."

"Hey look who's up to bat." Oliver motions to home plate. "That's Carter Matthews, he's the brother of one of Charlee's friends. And I think now brother-in-law to Zeke Miller."

Oliver's sister, Charlene AKA Charlee, lives in Chicago. She's married to Milo Landric who plays for the Chicago Red Tails, so now because of Oliver we've hung out a little with their whole team. Great bunch of guys. I wish we got to spend more time with players from other teams. Once or twice a year on the ice is never enough and we don't get to be us when we're on the ice anyway.

Carter swings at the first pitch.

"Strike one," Griffin says before he leans over to me and asks, "So why the dry spell?"

Carter swings again at the second pitch and misses for an 0-2 count.

"I don't know." I shrug. "I think I'm bored."

"Bored?" He laughs again. "How the hell are you bored? It's summertime. How are you not out tapping every woman you come in contact with? How are you not traveling to all the remote islands of the world?"

"Alone?" I scoff. "I'm not taking some stranger on vacation and I'm definitely not going alone."

"I don't know." Griffin shrugs. "It worked for Magallan."

Carter swings at the third pitch and makes contact with the ball. We watch as it flies to the outfield and Carter runs all the way to second base.

"What about me?" Oliver asks.

Oliver Magallan, our team captain, fell in love with a girl after accompanying her on her honeymoon over Halloween last year. Ledger's cousin, Scarlett, was ghosted at the altar. Poor thing. Apparently, she was a bit of a mess, but she took it in stride and put out an all-call on social media for a date to the year's biggest Halloween party that was supposed to be part of her honeymoon. Ledger thought it would be a clever idea for Oliver to go with her so he kind of set up their arrangement and the rest is history. Who knew he would fall for some girl on her honeymoon?

Me though…yeah, I haven't been that lucky. Not yet anyway.

"Oh, I'm just reminding August here that you were lucky enough to fall in love with Scarlett after taking her on her honeymoon."

"Yeah well, we'll call those extenuating circumstances," I say. "Ledger's related to Scarlett and he knew Oliver would be good for her."

Griffin huffs out a laugh. "Oh, so that's what you want?"

"What?" I ask, tossing back my beer.

"You want me to set you up with someone?"

I nearly snort at Griffin's suggestion, coughing when my beer goes up my nose. "No fucking thank you. I can find someone to eat my wiener perfectly fine on my own."

Griffin shrugs. "A warm body, yeah. But we're not talking about pussy."

"Then what are we talking about?"

"You said you were bored," he reminds me. "Maybe you need a woman. Like an honest to God relationship."

"And why would I do that? I'm not home for several months out of the year. Our schedule is rigorous and I have women throwing themselves at me everywhere we play. No girlfriend or wife wants to see that. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then how do you think Oliver and Scarlett make it work?"

"Easy," Oliver jumps in. "Scarlett is a social media guru. She travels just as much as we do. And quite frankly, she could follow the team wherever we go, doing whatever she wants to do, and her followers would follow us. So really, it's a win-win for them, for her, and the team."

"Alright wise ass." Griffin turns back, rolling his eyes. "You might be right about that, but what I'm trying to say is I bet you two aren't bored. You have each other. You have someone to wake up to every morning and go to bed with every night. You laugh, you talk, you enjoy each other's company. Life is better when you have someone to share it with and maybe that's what August needs."

"Says the single guy who hasn't had a serious girlfriend in at least three years and has been playing with his wiener in the middle of this baseball game."

"Ooh." He scowls. "Ouch. You wound me."

"Just telling it like it is. I'm not the only one in a dry spell."

"He's not wrong there," Ledger adds.

"Alright but I like to see my friends happy so leave it to me to play matchmaker. Ledger's in love with Marlee Remington so I've got to work on that one."

Ledger's eyes bulge and even in the summer sun I can see his face turn red. "What? I am not. Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true dude. We all see the way you look at her."

He slouches in his seat. "Yeah well, she never looks at me."

"She will Ledge." Griffin pats Ledger's knee. "I promise, one day, she will." He turns back to me. "Now, what about that girl?"

I roll my eyes and take another sip of my beer, watching the next batter for the Indianapolis Racers connect with the ball for a home run.

Dang. Anaheim is not having a great game.

"What girl?"

"You know," he adds, wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt, "your friend. That one you facetime every week."

My brows peak and I nearly spit out my drink when I realize who he's talking about. "Ella?"

"Yeah. Her. How about her?"

Now I do laugh. "Dude, she lives on the entire other side of the country first of all. Secondly, she's nowhere near my type and thirdly, if she would've heard you just now suggesting that the two of us hook up she would be laughing even harder than me. And she'd probably give you the finger."

"Oooh. Right up the butt, I hope. Man, I enjoy a girl who likes to get dirty."

"Fuck off, Ollenberg," I say to Griffin. Ella and I don't have to be dating for me to know I don't like other people talking about her. Or her fingers apparently.

Griffin frowns. "I guess I just assumed you two were in love or you had this secret relationship you didn't want to tell anyone about."

Harrison raises his hand but continues to stare out at the field. "Not going to lie, August. I thought that too."

"Same," Oliver adds.

"Yep," Barrett says with a belch.

I shake my head emphatically. "No way, guys. Ella's just a friend. My very best friend. I've told you that. We've known each other for…pfft…basically since we could walk. We were neighbors so we hung out a lot as kids. Her parents were kind of hard on her growing up so she spent a lot of time at my house. I guess I was kind of her getaway. Her safe space." I take another gulp of my beer and swallow it down. "Anyway, if we were going to be an item, that would've happened a long fucking time ago. And if we were having a secret relationship, you certainly wouldn't ever see me fucking other women in a goddamn hotel after a game. Not that you see that, you know, literally. I'm just saying. I would be loyal as fuck to her. She's too good of a person to be cheated on. I'd fuck up the asshole that ever did that to her."

Griffin gives me a little side eye and then shakes his head. "So, you two never…?"

I snicker with a shake of my head as well. "Not a chance. Well—" I stop short. "We did kiss once."

"See? I knew it!" Griffin's eyes bulge as he points at me. The rest of the guys laugh quietly.

I lift my hands in front of me. "Whoa, slow down. It wasn't like that, I promise. We were like twelve. Maybe thirteen but not quite in high school yet."

Griffin twists his mouth. "Oh."

"Yeah. We agreed to kiss each other, you know, be each other's first, so we could both learn what it felt like, and it was terrible. And by that I mean we were both terrible at it. First it was this tiny peck on the lips and then we didn't know what to do with our tongues so let's just say it was a gross wet mess that tasted like Swedish fish and sour cream and onion Pringles."

"Oh, my God." Ledger snorts. "Okay, that's funny shit."

"Yeah we both laughed about it after the fact and promised never to tell anyone and certainly never to try it again. So don't tell her I told you anything."

Griffin crosses his heart with his fingers. "Cross my heart."

I don't miss Ledger and Oliver crossing their fingers and giving each other a high five. I roll my eyes, frustrated with myself for breaking my own rule. Never tell the guys anything you don't want coming back to bite you. That little tidbit I just dropped is definitely going to bite me in the ass one day.

"Anyway, we watched each other date lots of," I shake my head, "wrong people over the years. We've always had, and still have to this day, one of those relationships where I can tell her anything, you know? And I know she doesn't judge me for it because she knows me and I know her. And I've always reciprocated that for her. She tells me all sorts of random shit whether I need to know it or not."

"What does she do?" Harrison asks.

Griffin tilts his head. "Isn't she like, a professional cheerleader or something?"

"No. She's a cheerleading coach back where we went to college."

"And how would you feel if she lived out here?" Barrett asks from the end of the row. Seriously, I didn't think he was paying attention to this conversation.

How would I feel?

Elated.

Happy as fuck.

Like my life is complete.

Like I have someone to really share life with.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard Marlee Remington talking to one of the other ladies in the front office about how Stockler is moving and they're thinking this might be an opportunity to retire Astro and come up with a whole new mascot."

All of us turn our heads toward Barrett, our jaws dropped in shock.

"Kingston Stockler? As in our team mascot?"

He nods. "Yeah. His wife got a promotion at work which means they're moving to Seattle. He's going with her to help with the kids. He's always said his family comes first."

"You think Ella should apply to be the team's mascot?" I ask him, but he merely shrugs.

"I'm not saying yes and I'm not saying no because I don't know who the fuck Ella is except that she appears to be some imaginary friend you supposedly talk to every Tuesday night. But if you're as close as you say you are, you might want her to be out here and her background sounds like she might have the right experience. I guess you would have to talk to the front office."

My thoughts start to run with the idea of Ella applying to be the team's mascot.

Would she want that?

Could she do it?

Of course she could do it.

She would be great at it.

And she'd probably love every minute of it.

"So, they're replacing Kingston?"

"I imagine they will, yeah." Barrett nods. "There's nobody else that does his job."

Oliver places his hand on my shoulder. "Do you think your girl would want to give it a go?"

"She's not my girl, and anyway…" I turn back in my seat. "I seriously doubt it. That would mean a huge move for her. Not sure that's really something she wants. She seems happy where she is."