STEALING FOREVER
by Lizzie C Koz
Series: Bridgeport Jetties: The Call-Up Years - Book 1
Release Date: May 7, 2026
Genre: M/M Baseball Romance
Tropes: Rival teammates to lovers, bi awakening, grumpy/sunshine, golden retriever x german shepherd, one bed, soft dom/brat energy, first times, praise kink, forced proximity, found family, emotional hurt/comfort
Cover Design: Lizzie C Koz
SHANE
This bro got invited to play with the big boys for Spring Training. Hell to the yes! I am so going to show the Jetties they need me on their Triple-A roster this year. Manifest.
Except for one little six-foot-four problem.
Jed Stone Jr. is back. Legend’s son. Permanent scowl. Stands in my way like a wall I’m supposed to climb.
One I really, really want to climb.
He’s hated me from the start and now it’s bleeding into our game. If we don’t fix this, we both lose and I refuse to be left behind.
Not again.
Call me crazy…but I have a plan I know I shouldn’t.
Time to climb some walls.
JED
I was moments from The Show when my arm blew out.
But I’m back. This is my year. Quick stint in Triple-A, then I’m getting the call-up. Simple. Controlled. Focused.
Baseball is all I have left, and nothing is stopping me. Especially not perpetually smiling, cocky golden boys who think life is a walk in the park.
Shane Michaels is talented. The bane of my existence. And god-damned beautiful.
I shouldn’t want him. I definitely shouldn’t touch him. Considering he’s straight, that shouldn’t be difficult—until I find out he isn’t.
I’m losing my control, and with it my scowl. After seven years of darkness, Shane feels like light breaking in.
But I learned long ago I’m not allowed to keep the people I love.
*** Please note the following CW: Homophobic language, homophobic violence - physical assault (off page), loss of parent (prior to story), ongoing grief which is central to a main character’s experience, severe emotional distress with self-destructive coping behaviors (binge drinking, isolation) and anxiety attacks, parental abandonment (prior to story) and rejection (on page), and explicit sex scenes between consenting adults.
I call the right pocket for the eight ball. I bend low over the table and line up my shot. I glance at Michaels, a chirp on the tip of my tongue, but I completely forget what it was. Because his attention is locked on my ass, and his shiny white teeth are digging into his pink bottom lip.
I quickly turn back to the table and take my shot. But confusion makes my movements sluggish and uncoordinated. I hit the completely wrong side of the ball and send it into the left pocket.
“Wrong hole,” I say gruffly.
Michaels sidles up to me, his arm brushing against mine and his citrus scent washing over me in a wave. His dark blue gaze locks on mine. “Looks like the right hole to me.” His voice is lower than normal, thicker, his words heavy with a meaning I doubt he intended.
“You win,” I murmur.
“Time for me to claim my prize.”
Those words skate over me, and I shiver. Because Michaels looking at me like that? Makes it feel like he’s talking about me.
“We never did name the stakes.” My words are nothing more than a hushed whisper, just as confused, just as thrown off balance as the rest of me.
Those blue eyes meet mine again. Flick down to my mouth. Back up. His throat bobs in a swallow, and then a shaky exhale dances over my lips.
Why can I feel that breath?
But before I have a chance to think further on that, a pair of lips land on mine. My eyes stretch wide. Surfer Boy is kissing me. Shane Michaels is kissing me. Holy fucking shit.
His hand wraps around my neck, slowly, tentatively, and he presses into me, slides his tongue over the seam of my lips. He’s like… really kissing me. Asking for an invitation for more. My pulse is going so fast at this point it’s no longer a beat, just a continuous roar. I’m a cacophony of confusion. What’s his end goal here? I don’t see what he has to gain from this. The only thing I can take this to mean is…
He’s not as straight as I assumed he was.Lizzie C Koz is a writer of fast-paced stories full of heat that will have you fanning yourself, and humor that will have you spitting out your wine. She lives in New England in a fixer-upper with her husband, toddler, and Golden Retriever.
When she’s not writing, she’s likely trying to convince her husband to tackle yet another DIY project around the house.
Lizzie loves nothing more than falling into a romance book as an outlet, especially when she was struggling through postpartum with her son. Now, she hopes to provide that same escape and small slice of joy to others. Promotion support provided by
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