12. LION
Chapter twelve
LION
The place I picked for dinner is only a block from the hotel where the team is staying. I wasn’t sure how many of Tim’s friends were joining us so I asked for their biggest table and because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t late, I headed there right after the game, even though I knew they would need to shower and change. I don’t mind waiting. There’s music playing, and I have time to post a few videos I took of Tim tonight to my socials. I’m just done logging into the last account to share and comment on all the posts when Tim walks in the door.
His hair is tied back in a sleek ponytail, higher than normal, I guess when he’s not on the field he doesn’t have to worry about fitting it through that little section at the back of his baseball cap. The soft lights of the restaurant are giving his tanned Australian skin an even richer tone. The hostess walks him over, and I can tell the exact moment Tim sees me, because his eyes lock on mine, and he smiles a brilliant wide grin that creates that perfect little dimple in his left cheek. It’s impossible not to mirror it back.
I knew Tim and I would be friends, but seeing how happy I made him, and the way that he kissed me tells me that maybe we can be so much more. Maybe we are meant to be. Like with how the distribution system brought me the boys, they also brought me Tim and Tim me. Tonight is going to be amazing.
“Hi,” I say, pulling out a chair for Tim as soon as he reaches me.
“Hi, Lion, thanks for finding this place. You remember Duckie,” Tim says, sitting and right there behind him is Brendan Grant, otherwise known as Duckie. He used to be a sports reporter who liked to hide ducks everywhere, then he joined the team somehow, and now he’s one of their best players. Not better than Tim, though.
“Yeah, hi. Your catch in the third inning was great,” I say, holding out my hand for him to shake it.
“Thanks. You remember Ian,” he says, and I nod and shake his hand next.
“So lovely to see you again. Tim said you’re a fan of the team. Me, too. But I’m also Brendan’s boyfriend.”
“I’ve seen you at the games, you’re a reporter, too, right?”
“I am. I’ve seen some of your posts online, you’ve grabbed some great videos and photos. Your stuff is great, I’d love to use some of the photos if you were cool with that.”
“Sure, you can use whatever you like.”
They take seats on the other side of the table and more players are behind them. Pat Night and Ryan Tanner, who are as friendly as ever. His boyfriend and the only non Funky Monkey, Alan Beaker, and then there is Calvin Parks, the twin. I’m glad he didn’t bring his brother. I’m getting kind of used to seeing them at games at the same time. Well, not really. I mean, I am getting better at not letting myself look right from one to the other. I can’t help it. The whole twin thing still creeps me out. Is there a name for a person afraid of twins?
“I wasn’t sure how many were coming so I grabbed the big table, is this it?” I ask, and Duckie picks up the menu.
“This is it. We can’t really have too late of a night with another game tomorrow. Have you eaten here before?”
“Oh, I know. That’s why I picked this place. Nice and close to your hotel.”
Duckie looks up from his menu but doesn’t say anything. Ian clears his throat.
“Oh, wow, they do barbeque gator. I’ve never had it. Do you guys want to get a table of mixed mains and just try a bunch of stuff?”
“Sounds good to me,” I say, and Ian calls over the waiter.
Tim leans into my side.
“Thanks for doing this,” he says.
“You need to eat and you like spending time with your friends. I’m happy to spend time with them, too.”
“So, Lion, tell us more about you,” Ryan says as the waiter starts pouring water for the table. “What do you do for work?”
“I work at a cafe with my best friend.”
“Really, what do you do there?”
“I make sandwiches, organize the display and help with drinks, but mostly Mary Beth handles the coffee, but I make a really good triple choc milkshake. You should come check it out when you are back in Savannah.”
“I love chocolate, that sounds great.”
Duckie leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. If Mom was here, she’d scold him, but I won’t.
“You have a hobby, though, too, right?”
“A hobby?”
“President of the Tim Sage Fan Club,” Duckie says.
“Oh my God, yes,” I reply, my leg bouncing under the table as I’m unable to hold back my excitement. “Tim’s amazing. I mean, you all play great. But he’s my favorite player. I have a page online where I share my pics and videos and comments about his games. It’s gained a bunch of new followers, too. I think you followed me, too, this week, right?”
Duckie’s face blushes a rosy shade of pink, and Ian snuggles in at his side.
“We both did. Your posts are great. Did you always follow Banana Ball or only when the new teams joined?” Ian asks.
“Oh, always. I loved the OG teams from the moment they started, but when Tim joined, it just got so much better.” I turn to Tim. “Remember that first year when you caught out that OG player? Man, the crowd was so shocked, they never thought your team stood a chance against the OG’s, but you showed them.”
“I can’t believe you remember that,” Tim says.
“I remember all your games. Oh, you need to try the crab legs here. They do this smoked leg with garlic butter sauce, and you said you had a beef brisket recipe that you were creating a garlic sauce for, too. Maybe you could do a crab meat topper from smoked crab legs instead. Oh, oh, oh, you could use both on top of giant baked potatoes or mac and cheese. Yes, loaded mac and cheese. That would be amazing, don’t you think?”
“What would loaded mac and cheese be amazing for?” Pat asks.
“Tim’s food truck. Don’t you think it would be awesome? Driving around, traveling all over the US, cooking up your favorite food and sharing it with people?”
Duckie nods. “Yeah, I guess that would be pretty cool. The loaded mac and cheese does sound great. I’d totally order that.”
“Me, too,” Pat exclaims, and just like that, they all start offering up suggestions to Tim for ideas for his food truck. His whole face lights up when he talks about it. I don’t know why he wants to wait. I mean, sure, he’s busy playing Banana Ball right now, but he could do both. I could help him.
We eat and talk, and the guys have lots of questions for me. It’s really cool that they want to get to know me better. I tell them all about Chip and Daffin, and Reynolds and King, and I show them pictures. Calvin told me about a time he thought the cat distribution system was choosing him, but the cat ran away. I tried to reassure him that if he’s meant to have a cat, it will find him.
Duckie had the most questions, but I think he’s like Tim’s best friend so that makes sense. Mary Beth is my best friend, and she’s always asking about what is happening in my life.
“Thank you for tonight,” Tim says as we walk slowly behind the others on their way back to the hotel.
“I was happy to have dinner with you and your friends.”
“Not just that. For everything. You really are wonderful, you know that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I am just me. But if you say I am wonderful, then it must be true.”
“See. That right there. I say it so it must be true. You really have that much belief in me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. We only just met. I mean really met and our friendship is so new.”
“I guess. Well, you have a game tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep. I’ll be the one in the stands cheering the loudest.”
He laughs, and that sparkle is there in his eyes. The same sparkle that glistened the moment before he kissed me. Does he want to kiss me again? I know I want to kiss him, but we’re in the street, and there could be anyone watching.
“Do you want to come up?” Tim asks, and immediately, I say, “Yes,” and follow him into the hotel.
I walk behind Tim all the way up the hallway of the second floor of the hotel, listening to the faint sounds of muffled voices as we pass each door.
“This is me,” he says, swiping his access card and pushing open the door. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”
“Water would be great,” I say, following him inside.
The room is cramped, a twin bed sits centered on the far-right wall, but large windows covered by sheer white curtains overlook the parking lot and city streets below making it feel bigger than it really is.
“This is nice,” I say as he hands me a glass of water. I drink it down greedily and hand the glass back.
“It’s okay. Most of the places we stay are like this, tiny, but cozy. At least here I have my own room, and the beds are usually comfortable enough.”
My gaze immediately goes to the bed.
“I should have asked before I kissed you last time,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“I would have said yes if you did.”
“Really?”
“I will always say yes.”
“So, if I asked you if I could kiss you again now…”
I step closer to him and slide my palm beside his face, my fingers cupping the back of his neck. “Ask me.”
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and I lean down my lips an inch from his.
“Yes.”
The moment the word escapes my breath, his mouth is on mine. His tongue plunging past my lips, tasting mine, fighting for control, and it’s even better than I remember.
He moans, and my dick twitches as if answering some primal call to action, and I lift him up, his legs straddling my waist, and his hands moving to wrap around my neck. His mouth moves from my lips to my jaw, kissing down my neck, and when he sucks that perfect spot in the crease between my neck and my shoulder, I gasp.
“Fuck… that feels so good.”
My head is swimming with all the things I want to do to him, with him, and I squeeze his ass, and he uses his legs to grip tighter and grind against me.
“Sit,” he says, and I step back a few times to find the edge of the bed, careful to hold him while I take a seat. He tugs my jersey over my head, unlinks his legs from behind me to straddle my thighs and shoves me back against the covers.
“You were amazing tonight,” he says, pulling the band out of his ponytail and letting the golden strands fall around his face.
“You were amazing. I just found a place to eat dinner.”
He chuffs a little giggle, shaking his head. “You make me feel amazing,” he says, leaning forward and kissing his way down my chest. “Now I want to make you feel amazing, too.”
His tongue swipes over my nipple, and I squirm.
“Fuck, Tim.”
He looks up at the sound of his name, his eyes wide and gleaming as he licks it again. I shudder, forcing my eyes to stay open so I can watch this. Watch him. I have to be dreaming. This has to be a dream, because in no universe is it possible that Tim Sage is sucking my nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the bud, and clenching his thighs around me.
“How is this real?”