by Nicole Dykes
Jenny takes a deep breath, straightening out her skirt and almost looking like a proud mama. “I’m happy for you, Ryan. I really am.”
Grady gawks at her, surprise on his face. “Holy fuck, are you crying?”
I examine her face more closely and notice her eyes are indeed glossy. She wipes at her eyes quickly and then raises her middle finger at Grady. “Fuck off. I have PMS, and I have to deal with you assholes.”
I grin and stand up, wrapping my arm around her. “That does sound awful.”
Grady leans back in his seat. “Yeah, thank God for having balls and a dick.”
She’s shooting daggers at him now, and I decide to walk her out before she kills my boyfriend and blames it on momentary hormonal rage. “Thank you, Jenny. Really. I know this hasn’t been easy.”
A strange look passes over her face, but she doesn’t confirm how much of a pain in the ass I am. “This actually makes my life a hell of a lot easier. You know, you’re my only client in the middle of the US. All my other ones are on the West Coast.”
I did know that. I also know she lives in KC because I’ve been her most lucrative client so far. “I appreciate it.”
“I’ll call you when they’re ready to sign.”
She leaves, and I go back to take a seat with Waylon and Grady, who are both in cheerful moods. Grady laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe she cried.”
Waylon has his phone out and is working as he eats. But he sighs, glancing toward the door Jenny just walked through and then back at Grady and me. “She really cares about you.”
Grady and I both share a look, and then Grady snorts. “Yeah. Okay, Waylon.”
Waylon, however, doesn’t laugh. “You guys, you have to realize how much you mean to her. I think this is a huge weight off her shoulders.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as I pop some food in my mouth, my appetite back.
“It was killing her to make you keep that a secret. Trying to put out the fires all the time. Jenny—she’s hardcore—but that shit bugged the hell out of her.”
I don’t think he’s wrong about that. Even if she came off brash nearly all the time, I never got the sense she enjoyed making me hide my sexuality. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. You guys need to give her a break. She’s a woman who has a career in a male-dominated field, always having to prove herself.” His eyes land on me, but he’s not mad. “And you haven’t made it easy on her.”
“Not his fault he’s gay and a baseball player in a world of fucking douchebags.”
I laugh. “I’m not arguing about who had it worse. You’re right, Waylon.”
“We’ll send her a gift basket. What do you get for Satan’s assistant?” Grady asks, but he’s kidding. I know she’s grown on him a whole hell of a lot lately.
“Right. Let me handle the gifts.” Waylon stands, putting his phone in his pocket. “I’m going to let you two celebrate appropriately and get the hell out of here. Please do Jenny and me a favor . . .” He points his gaze at Grady. “No more trouble for at least a week.” He looks at me. “Make it easy on her.”
I nod in agreement. Grady salutes him like the asshole he is before Waylon leaves with a sigh, probably assuming they’re going to have several fires to put out during the next week despite his warning.
But really, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure this works out.
“Celebrate?” Grady waggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.
“Of course. But after I eat. I think I’m going to need all the energy I can get.”
He doesn’t argue with that, but he does look troubled, too concerned for his handsome face and normal easy going attitude. “You really want to move away from KC? You know if you want to live in the same zip code, I’ll fucking move.”
I know he would.
“I need a change. I have to stop living for my parents and the fans. I need to do this for me.”
He moves closer to me, his smile over-the-top cheesy. “And that something you need to do . . . That would be me?”
I roll my eyes but lean in and kiss him hard. “You’re a dumbass.”
He laughs. “So LA, huh?”
“If everything works out.”
I shovel food in my mouth, and he leans against the back of the seat. “Well, your music room is kick ass, but mine’s better. And so is my pool. I think you’ll like it.”
I gape at him, my mouth full of food as I try my best to chew and then finally swallow. “Did you just ask me to move in?”
“Why the hell not? Same zip code and you uprooting your life for me? Sounds like this is the logical next step.”
I laugh, taking a drink of water to get the food down my throat. “You really do jump head-first into everything.”
He looks sheepish. “If you don’t want to—”
I stop him by pressing my lips to his—hard. “I want that. I want that so fucking bad. I love that you jump into what you really want. I love that you don’t fucking hold back when it counts.”
He grins, pressing his lips softly to mine, giving me a reverent kiss and resting his head against mine. “I love that you overthink everything. It’s good. I always feel like all our bases are covered.”
“We do seem to balance each other out.”
He stands up, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him toward the bed. “Fuck the food.”
I guess we’re celebrating.
Fuck, I don’t want to leave him again.
I look over his sleeping form as he hugs his pillow with a muscled arm. The fucker is actually snoring with a little drool at the corner of his mouth, and still, he’s the hottest man I’ve seen.
We’ve managed to keep a low profile over the past three days, and it turns out Jenny was right. The negotiations with LA have been smooth. They saw the picture of Grady and me, but, according to Jenny, they didn’t even bat an eye. Which bodes well for the future, I suppose. But I don’t care if they can handle it or not. If they give me a contract with a loophole in case things get too hot, they can buy my ass out and I’ll be Grady’s tour bitch.
I love playing baseball. I do. But if baseball can’t love me back for who I am, then we need to break up.
However, at the moment, there seems to be a glaringly bright possibility that I’ll be playing for a while. Jenny thinks they’ll be able to sign us by the end of the week. Which means I’m on a plane back to KC tonight, where Bennett is, so we can meet with them together. Apparently, they’re all set to meet us at our lawyer’s office.
It’ll all be worth it soon enough. Will the fans be pissed? Yeah, for sure. Will my parents fucking lose it? Yeah, probably.
But I can’t keep living like this. It’s never been worth it before, but as soon as Grady came back into my life and there was hope I’d get to be with him, everything changed for me. All of this will be 100 percent worth it if I can just finally have him.
“Hey.” I look over to see Grady’s eyes cracked open and peering at me. “You’re thinking too hard.”
I grin and move closer to his body, reaching under the sheet and stroking his already stirring cock. “Hard, you say? Not quite.”
He laughs. “Now who’s the corny one?”
I kiss him, not caring about morning breath or anything else because, goddamn it, it’s my last day with him and I need him. And he doesn’t seem to mind either when he grasps my hair and shoves his tongue in my mouth.
“Show me how much you’re going to miss me.”
I do just that, stroking his now fully erect shaft, paying special attention to the sensitive tip and making his hips involuntarily thrust upward. “Like this?”
“That’s good.” He tips his head back, exposing his throat to me. I take full advantage, sliding my mouth over his skin that’s pulled tight with erotic tension.
“I really am going to miss you.” He grabs my ass with both hands, tugging my full weight onto him and forcing me to straddle him, gripping my ass cheeks and not letting go.
“I
’m going to miss you too.” His hands slide over the planes of my back as I look down at his cock, continuing to stroke him after grabbing the lube and making sure he’s nice and slick. He steals some lube from his cock and moves one hand to my aching dick, stroking me. I was already hard, but when his hand grips me, I nearly lose it, going from hard to achingly hard.
“Fuck, Grady.”
“We can do that, but right now,” he says, thrusting into my hand, and I do the same with his, “I’m too fucking close.”
“Me too.”
I lean down enough to kiss him while we jerk each other off, chasing our mutual pleasure. My body strains with tension, craving the release his hand promises. The room is quiet except for our moans and heavy breathing. It’s not long before we’re both spilling over each other’s hands and making a sticky mess that neither of us give two fucks about.
I lay next to him, my head on his heart and think about what a future with him will look like.
I’m not really sure about the details and realize there will, no doubt, be challenges.
But, at the end of the day, it’s going to be fucking beautiful.
I’m on my usual high after a concert, but it’s coupled with nerves when I walk into the dressing room backstage and immediately look around for my phone. Ryan’s meeting with the LA baseball team was today.
It was hours ago, but with the fucking time difference and sound checks, I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet. My mind has been on him all day. My body and mind have been strung out with nervous energy, needing to know the next move.
I was completely serious when I asked him to move in with me. I want it to happen. And at this point, if he isn’t moving to LA, I’m moving back to Kansas City. I don’t really give a fuck where my address is as long as it’s the same as Ryan’s.
The idea of sharing a roof with him is all-consuming for me now. It’s all I think about. And I want it.
I find my phone and see a text from him, telling me to give him a call when I can. Apparently, I’m dick-whipped because I immediately call him. And he must be equally whipped because he answers right away. I’m graced with his beautiful face and his tired, but happy, eyes. “Hey, finally found time for me, huh, rockstar?”
I laugh and settle into the sofa in the dressing room. “And what about you? Are you a former professional baseball player or still a current one?”
He’s sitting in bed, shirtless with disheveled hair, and if I had to guess, I’d say he’d been asleep before I called. “Current.”
I don’t bother hiding the grin that’s so wide it feels like my cheeks are going to split. “Contract?”
“Signed. With Bennett.”
Relief washes over me. “How many years?”
“Three.” God, he looks happy. “And twice what KC was struggling to pay. I’m set.”
“Good. And the fans?”
His muscles pull tight as he shrugs and looks adorably guilty, yet still sure of his decision. “They’ll be pissed we’re leaving. I’m okay with it though. I’ve paid my dues.”
“You’ve committed no crime.” I have to throw in some “Bohemian Rhapsody” lyrics.
He rolls his eyes. “Always about Queen with you, huh? Why don’t you stick to your own lyrics?”
I laugh. “Don’t you know it’s impossible to write a good song when you’re happy, Bailey?”
“I’ve really fucked you over, huh?”
“You really did. You owe me.”
“Want me to break your heart?”
“Hell, no.” I don’t even hesitate. “You’re never getting away from me now.”
“Sounds stalkery.”
I chuckle. “I’ll find you.”
He shakes his head, raising one arm in the air to yawn, and I sit back to bask in the arm porn. If I sensed any hesitance at all in him, I’d question him about wanting to move, but I only see happiness and relief on his handsome face. “So, when are you coming to me?”
He laughs, and God, I’ve missed that sound. How the hell did I go seven years without that sound? “I don’t have to be at spring training until the middle of February. So, I’m yours until then.”
“You’re fucking mine always. When do you move in?”
Again, with the fucking gorgeous laughter. “Whenever you’re ready for me. You seem pretty busy though.”
I run my fingers through my hair, content. More content than I’ve ever been in my life. The love of my life is happy with his career and is moving in with me. “You want me to cancel this fucking tour right now?” Waylon walks inside my room, not even slightly bothered by our conversation as he takes a seat next to me. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh, he will,” Waylon says dramatically, waving at Ry. “Hey Ryan. How did it go?”
He walked into only the last part of our conversation, and even though he walked in when I offered to cancel my tour, he seems happy. My guess is he already talked to Jen-nay.
Ryan sits up further in the bed, and I get lost in the view of his chiseled pecs for a moment before he answers, “No. I don’t want you to cancel, dumbass. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure out the whole moving thing whenever.”
“Actually, I’m coming to you in two days.”
“Is that so?”
Waylon confirms, having no problem butting into our conversation like the brother I never wanted but am glad I now have. “Yup. Kansas City. Three nights.”
Ryan’s eyes do a happy celebration while the rest of him remains cool and collected. “Well, alright then. I’ll leave the light on for you, Grady.”
“You fucking better, Bailey. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
And I mean it. None of this is easy. He doesn’t want to hide anymore, and I get that. But it doesn’t mean any of this is going to be easy, regardless of his new team seemingly being cool with it.
The world still has a ways to go.
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
“I love you both,” Waylon sings, and we all laugh before I hang up with Ryan.
He’s moving in with me in LA. We’re going to share not only a zip code but an address, and I finally feel whole.
After seven years of trying to figure out the source of this emptiness inside me, despite having what the world would say was everything, I found the missing piece.
And I’m not letting him go.
“I can’t believe you’re really doing this, Ryan. How can you leave your fans behind? Your home?”
“Mom, they didn’t want to pay for me to stay. It’s a business decision.”
My mother waves me off, extremely irate on the dreaded video call I knew I’d receive. The news broke pretty damn fast that Bennett and I are done with Kansas City and will start the new season out on the West Coast. So I knew it was only a matter of time before I received the call from my parents.
And yet, I don’t feel as ashamed as I thought I would. I don’t feel the need to explain much to them. I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve been on my own for years, and I just signed a major, record-breaking contract.
Not to mention, I have the man of my dreams in the master bathroom who’s singing in the shower at the moment. He flew in yesterday for the first night of his Kansas City engagement, and after the concert, we came back to my house and spent our time catching up. In bed.
We even managed to talk a little.
My father is sitting next to my mom, but he hasn’t said much. I knew he wouldn’t be happy with this news. “You need to have some loyalty, Ryan. Is this about your dating life?”
I wince. She did not just imply that I want to go to LA because I’m gay. “I’m happy, Mom. And I’m already dating someone from here.”
She looks slightly pale and opens her mouth to say something but then doesn’t. Good. I don’t want to hear her lecture me about how I haven’t found the right woman. “You’re leaving home.”
“I left home seven years ago.”
She waves me off. “You know what I mean. You’re killin
g your father.”
I look at my dad, who’s stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation. “Then he can tell me that himself, but still . . .” I lessen the bite in my tone. “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m happy. For the first time in a long time, I’m happy. I have everything I want.”
I hear the shower turn off and Grady saunters in with a towel around his waist, walking to his duffle bag across the room.
“I gotta go. Love you guys.”
I barely let them say their goodbyes before I hang up and walk to Grady, untying the knot around his waist as he finds his jeans, picking them up. “You okay?”
I nod absently, my front against his back, and kiss the top of his spine. His skin is warm and still moist from the shower. “My parents are having a hard time with my move.”
I pull the towel away and let my fingers slide over his taut abs. “And are you?”
“Oh, I’m hard.” I press my growing erection against his naked ass. I’m in sweats, but not for long.
He chuckles and turns to face me. “You really okay?”
“You having second thoughts?”
He shakes his head immediately, never letting any doubt creep in. “Never.” His fingers move through my hair. “I’m so fucking sorry, Ry.”
I’m taken aback, my heart speeding up while I try to figure out what he’s talking about. “About what?”
“I should have come after you years ago.”
I wave him off, moving back to my bed and sitting on the edge. “I’m sorry I ran.”
“I could have found you.” I guess we aren’t playing at the moment. He tugs his jeans on, sans briefs, and sits down next to me. “I should have found you. Instead, I let us walk around numbly for seven years without each other.” He waves his arms around my bedroom. “We could have had this for seven years.”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“The what-ifs. They’ll fucking kill us. I was a chickenshit and ran. You were a chickenshit and let me stay gone. But maybe we wouldn’t have all this . . .” I mimic his previous gesture, “if we hadn’t done that.”
