Sweet Spot: Homeruns #4 (6 page)

“Nah, I’ve been busy,” I assured him. “I shouldn’t complain, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a day off. If I’m not working the games, they have PR events they want me to cover because I’m basically free labor.”

“Boo-freaking-hoo,” Ben responded, not feeling sorry for me in the least. “It must be rough knowing that in a few weeks you’ll be rubbing elbows with big names in the industry.”

“I didn’t say that,” I insisted. Ben loved to give me a hard time, but I wondered how my petty complaints sounded to him. He was a good guy. He was the reason I kept coming back after the first night I’d stumbled in hoping for a bit of peace and quiet. With everyone at the house, there was no way to focus there. “And it’s not as glamorous as you’d think. Today, I got to ride a bus fifty freaking miles each way so I could take pictures of what’s essentially a practice game. And tomorrow, I get to wake at the crack of dawn for some charity breakfast with the GM.”

And boy, wasn’t that going to be fun? I liked Marcus, but there was going to be a whole new level of awkward spending the morning with him right after the talk with his son. Nick’s issues were wrapped up in his perception of his father. The man I’d imagined when Nick talked about him was almost like a photo negative of the man I’d gotten to know since taking the internship with the team.

There were days I thought the universe hated me because the flip side of my dream job was that I had to spend time with the father of my dream guy. The man who’d walked away from me without a second thought, partly because he couldn’t bear the idea of his dad finding out he was gay. I’d had to learn how to bury all those feelings because Marcus and I were going to be spending a lot of time together.

When I’d first started, I’d considered asking about Nick in passing, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. It was no secret Marcus Stone was a family man. He often talked about his wife and children, but only in an abstract sense. When pressed for more information, he reminded the reporters that he liked to keep his personal and professional life separate, no different than he had when he was playing. I respected his stance. It showed he wasn’t willing to sell out his family to hand a heartwarming story to the media. It would’ve been minor to some people, but to me, it made it even more difficult to reconcile the man I worked for with the way his son viewed him.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you today?” Ben eyed me suspiciously, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I needed to get a damn grip because I desperately wanted to be the one in control of my meeting with Nick.

“Sorry, I was thinking about someone,” I admitted. “I ran into an old friend this morning and he’s meeting me here.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a friend.” He chuckled as he began wiping down the counter and the machines. “Judging by the look on your face, I’d say it’s not just any friend. If it is, I’m going to be offended because you never look at me the way you did when you were thinking about him.”

I tossed a sugar packet at him. “Shut up. You had your chance and you shot me down,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, because you made it clear you’re only down here for a little while.” I couldn’t admit I’d asked him out mostly
because
I was only here short term. I didn’t want a relationship, so I figured I’d test the waters with Ben, to see if maybe I was finally ready to get on with my own life rather than mourning someone I’d never have again. Except now I did have a chance of trying to get him back. I threw my head back and groaned. Meeting Nick was a bad idea if I was already considering forgiving him and thinking about falling back into bed with him.

The sleigh bells threaded over the door jingled and I knew by the way Ben’s eyes glazed over and his jaw went slack that Nick had walked in. I got the same goofy expression whenever he was around, whether I wanted to admit it or not. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before glancing over my shoulder to confirm my suspicions.

“Hey Nick,” I greeted him. “Tell Ben what you want and we’ll head back to the lounge.”

Ben leaned in close so only I could hear him. “If you tell me he’s just a friend, you’d better fucking believe I’m going to pounce on that ass,” he warned me. “Or flip over and beg him to pounce. Yeah, I’d bet he’d prefer drilling me.”

Acid rose through my chest as I imagined Nick and Ben doing anything together, pouncing or otherwise. “Trust me, he’s great eye candy but the boy has more issues than the archives at the library.”

“It’d be worth it to get a piece of him for a night.” I smacked Ben before excusing myself. I needed a moment alone and really needed to get away from Nick before he felt the jealousy radiating off my body.

M
y footsteps echoed
off the worn hardwood floors and high ceilings of the coffeehouse as I walked back to where the barista informed me I’d find Cody. Apparently, the two of them were friends. If the slight man behind the counter hadn’t written his phone number on a napkin and stuffed it into the pocket of my shirt, I’d have thought the two of them were an item.

“Hey,” I said as I sat down across from Cody. There was so much I needed to say, but I couldn’t figure out where to start. I didn’t want to launch right into my reasons for walking away before, but didn’t think we’d be able to move on to catching up on lost time until I apologized. It was the first time sitting across the table from Cody felt awkward.

To make matters worse, he wouldn’t look at me. He stared at his coffee cup as he chewed on the corner of his lip. I was beginning to think it was a lost cause to try and talk to him.

“Look, if you really don’t want to do this, I’ll jet,” I offered. I’d hoped his tense vibe between us would disappear if we could sit down and talk, but it seemed even stronger than before.

“No, stay.” The words were so quiet I barely heard them over the soft hum of indie music playing through the overhead speakers.

“Okay.” I looked around the coffee shop, trying to work up the courage to say the words I owed him. My fingers itched with the desire to reach out to him, but I resisted. “Cody, I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I am sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” he responded with a disbelieving snort. “The problem is being sorry doesn’t change a damn thing. There’s no way you can go back in time and make it right.”

“No, there isn’t.” I took a sip of my coffee, wincing when the hot liquid burned my throat. “Believe me, there’ve been plenty of times over the past four years when I wished I could. I wanted to reach out to you and explain why I left the way I did, but I figured it was better this way.”

“Better for who?” It was a fair question; one I didn’t have the answer to. I could tell him I was trying to do the right thing by him, but the truth was it was all about me. It was easier for me to put off this moment as long as possible because Cody had a way of getting into my head like no one else had ever done. “Because I have to tell you, a simple phone call would have been swell.”

“I know.”

“So what you really mean is you fucked up and it was easier for you to keep avoiding me,” he accused, pretty much hitting the nail on the head. “Instead, I sat there trying to figure out where I’d fucked up. What I’d done to make you think I was some needy little bitch who expected every minute of your time. You never made a secret about your issues with my age, but I was young and foolish enough to think you’d eventually realize the two years between us weren’t an issue. But you proved they were when you didn’t trust me to be mature enough to understand you had a job to do and couldn’t spend as much time with me. You’re still doing the same job now, so I’m failing to see what’s changed.”

I gaped at him because I hadn’t thought he’d understand it, not with the crystal clarity he showed me as he spoke. Unfortunately, it also sounded like he partially blamed himself for the way things ended, and I couldn’t let him take the blame.

“It wasn’t you, Cody,” I told him. This time, I did reach for his hand resting on the table. It stung, but I wasn’t surprised when he pulled back and buried his hands in his lap. “My cutting ties had nothing to do with what I thought about you, other than I was stupid and scared. It wasn’t because I thought you’d throw a fit or ask me to stay.”

“Then why not tell me?” His expression softened a bit, but his narrowed eyes still carried a hint of anger.

“When Tim called me into his office that day, I’d let everyone down,” I admitted to him. “My dad swears he had nothing to do with me getting drafted, but back then I still felt as though I had failed him. I wasn’t good enough to hack it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Cody argued. “First of all, you got an opportunity almost no one gets. It wasn’t because you were the boss’s kid, but because you’re a damn good pitcher. Second, I may not know your dad well, but I’ve gotten to know him a bit since I started my internship and he loves the hell out of you and your sister. He’s proud of everything both of you have done. He also understands how the game works. He knows how uncertain life is for younger players, and he’s working to make it easier on those who are trying to work their way into the majors. And I think part of that has to do with you.”

I cocked my head to the side as Cody told me about my own father. About the stand my dad had taken to increase the standard of living for minor league players. I knew bits and pieces, but it seemed Cody knew more than I did. Still, it rankled to hear him say my dad was doing what he was because of me. That was something I’d never wanted.

“Why would he do that?” I asked, interested to hear Cody’s perspective.

“Probably because his own son has been a stubborn ass the entire time he’s been in the minors and refuses to ask for help,” Cody said bluntly. “He sees how you struggle to get by, even though there are resources out there for you. At the same time, that might be a good thing in the long run, because you’ve been living the life of every minor league player out there. You might’ve gone to extremes, but only because you’re smart enough to understand the money you’re earning won’t go very far.

“You weren’t foolish enough to see the big numbers on your major league contract and live a life supported by that salary. You’ve tried to make do with what you earned in the minors, even though it’s nearly impossible.” He paused long enough to drink the last of his latte. I wanted to say something to get him to stop talking, but he’d rendered me speechless. “Your independence showed your dad there’s a huge chasm in the pay for major and minor league players, and he’s trying to close that gap. He’s worried huge talent will have no choice but to quit playing if they can’t support their families.

“Also, you’d have to be blind to think he’d give a shit if you’re gay,” he added pointedly.

“You don’t know that,” I argued, more because there was nothing else for me to say. Somehow, I’d lost control of the conversation. We were supposed to be talking about how I’d fucked up and what I could do to make it up to Cody, not about my dad and his campaign for better pay and benefits for minor league players or how he’d created a club that practically celebrated gay players. My mind was also swirling, wondering how long he’d been working close enough to my dad to know so much.

“I do,” he countered. “I know it because I’ve seen him in action. I know it because, unlike you, I only see the professional side of him. Jesus, I don’t think you have a clue how much you’ve influenced some of the shit he’s done. And yeah, it pisses me off because I’m starting to think everything you worried about was all tied up in your damn head.”

“You know, listening to you now makes me think I was even more ridiculous than I already realized I’d been,” I admitted. “I should have talked to you. I should have told you I needed some time to think about what was going through my head. I should have been man enough to tell you I didn’t want to stop talking to you, but I needed to focus more on my job. Yeah, feeling like a failure is part of why I did what I did, but it’s not all of it.

“When I was sitting there with Tim, something changed. At first, I was running through the list of everyone I’d failed by not making the cut. But then, I started thinking about you. It’s pretty damn sad, but you were the first real friend I had who didn’t give a shit about baseball. You were the one who opened my eyes to something more than the game.” This was all so hard for me to talk about. I felt weak and more than a little insecure admitting my weeks with Cody were the only time I’d let go and thought about more than one facet of my life. “It killed me to think about walking away from someone who gave me so much hope. Someone who was better for me than I could have ever been for you.”

“That’s the difference between us. You always kept score of what I did for you, but I didn’t. Not once did I think you were taking advantage of me,” Cody argued.

“Shit, I’m really screwing this up,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “That’s not what I was trying to say. I guess what it all comes down to is I left the way I did because it hurt to think about not seeing you at the end of the day. Once I got knocked down to High-A, there was no way I’d make it to Milwaukee.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me you’re human?” Cody formed a huge O with his mouth and slapped his cheeks before rolling his eyes. “Seriously, you have to break down the pedestal you seem to have yourself on. You’re not a god among men, you’re a human with very mortal flaws. One of those, the one you think makes you weak, is actually the best of all. Too bad you had to go and fuck things up by trying to protect the carefully crafted image you had of yourself.”

I hated to ask, but I had to. The thought of him giving me an answer I didn’t want to hear terrified me. “So, does that mean you might be able to forgive me?”

Cody leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. One hand lifted to scrub at the short stubble on his chin as he considered what I’d asked him. The longer this dragged on, the more I wanted to reach across the table and shake him because he was doing it on purpose.

When I’d first met Cody, I’d thought he was a shy kid who didn’t speak his mind. He quickly dispelled that notion the day he railed at me for not telling him I’d been at the Secured Hope fundraiser where he’d shared his life story with a room full of strangers. I’d thought I’d been doing the right thing to not bring up memories I could tell were painful ones that he’d rather forget. To him, it was a lie of omission and he called me on it. I’d seriously thought he was going to kick me out of the crappy little car Eric and Bryce had picked up for him so he didn’t have to keep borrowing Mason’s Jeep. I felt just as nervous that night as I did sitting at the back of the coffee shop, waiting for him to decide if this was an unforgivable offense in his eyes.

“You know, part of me wants to get up and tell you to fuck off,” Cody finally said, his demeanor still cool as ice. “But then I think about how different I am now from back then. I did a lot of stupid shit, too.”

“No, you didn’t,” I interrupted. No way in hell was he going to blame himself.

“Uh yeah, I did. Just because you didn’t witness my mistakes doesn’t mean I never fucked up,” Cody countered. For the first time since I’d walked in, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “It’s that whole ridiculous human thing again. We all fuck up. The important part is whether or not we’re honest enough with ourselves and others to admit it. And you did.”

I sat up straighter in my seat as the weight lifted off my shoulders. It still bothered me how badly I’d hurt Cody. Hearing him getting closer to saying he forgave me allowed hope to bubble up inside of me.

“Don’t get too excited,” Cody warned me when he noticed the change in my mood. “I’m not going to hold on to what’s happened because neither of us can change it, but I’m also not ready to pick up where we left off before you asked me to pull into that parking lot so you could break up with me. With everything I’ve been through, I don’t trust easily. But I trusted you. And you shit on everything I thought we had.”

I swallowed hard around my retort. He had every right to feel the way he did, and it’s what I’d expected to happen. I desperately wanted him to trust me again and realize that I’d learned from my mistakes, but I had to prove it through my actions, not words.

I pushed back from the table, halting when I realized leaving would seem to him like I was running again. I wasn’t. The only thought propelling me to the door was that he’d already given me more than I deserved, and I wanted to give him space to process everything we’d talked about. If I stayed, I’d be tempted to beg him to tell me how I could make it up to him.

Cody let me off the hook when he picked up his own cup and stood from the table. “I’d love to stick around, but I have an early day tomorrow. I’ll see you around.”

I nodded and he walked to the garbage bin. He glanced back at me and I forced a smile onto my face. It wasn’t until he was outside and out of view that I stood and tossed my own cup in the trash. While the conversation had gone better than I’d expected, it was still a far cry from what I’d hoped for.