Wild Pitch

by Sloan Johnson

  “It’s not so bad,” I lied. The truth was, I hated going home for that exact reason. After the initial slap in the face provided by the dark, silent rooms, the quiet wasn’t so bad for a while. I did enjoy being able to do what I wanted when I wanted without anyone telling me to do something else, but I’d have gladly given that up in order to have someone to curl up on the couch with to watch a movie, or even someone to cook a simple dinner with.

  “No, but it’d be even better if you had something warmer than your hand to keep you company,” Jason chimed in. I wasn’t sure how he managed to get out of this ribbing since he also lived alone. Then again, he had an industrial one-bedroom apartment, not a family home in suburbia. It was as though his home made it known that there was no room in his life for a woman.

  “I happen to enjoy my hand. We get along, I rarely have to worry about my hand saying no, and I always have a backup,” I stated bluntly, wiggling the fingers on my left hand for effect. We all tipped back our shots and I winced at the burn of the cinnamon whisky on my throat. “Maybe someday I’ll change my mind, but for now my life works. Besides, while you all are worrying about what’s going on at home, I can keep putting every bit of energy into the game, which is why I’m better than you.”

  The table erupted in a series of guffaws and playful jabs. It was almost enough to keep me from thinking about the tight knot in my gut, which was the real reason why I’d never considered a steady relationship. Although it was far too early to even think about anything like falling in love with Mason, I could see it happening, and yet I was already denying him to everyone in my life.

  Over the past couple of seasons, I had thought about coming out. It wasn’t like I’d be the only professional athlete to do so, not with people like Jason Collins, Robbie Rogers and Michael Sam making very public proclamations. Heck, I wouldn’t even be the first major league baseball player to try sneaking out of the closet, but his experiences meant I had proof that baseball wasn’t the best place for a gay player. Now, I wished for a different reality, one where I didn’t have to pretend there wasn’t someone waiting for me in a much more comfortable bed than the one I’d fall into later.

  Another round of drinks appeared at the table, a gift from a group of fans across the room according to our waitress. This time, she leaned in close to me, rubbing her ample chest against my shoulder as she set down the glasses. I didn’t want to make the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was, but with every round she was becoming more brazen and the situation was about a round away from seriously awkward.

  “I think she’s sweet on you,” Kevin observed as he leaned against the side of our booth. I rolled my eyes, already unimpressed by the way he seemed to invite himself into our tight-knit group. “You guys have room for one more?”

  I wanted to tell him no, that the table was full and we even if there was a seat, it wouldn’t fit him and his inflated ego, but that’d make me look like the dick. Then I’d have to sit down with Stu and listen to a lecture about being a role model for the team when word got back to him. If there was one thing I knew about our coach, it was that he didn’t put up with petty bullshit or hazing the new guys. And as one of his go-to players, Stu Ackerman was even harder on me. Whether I wanted the role or not, he made it no secret that he expected me to set a good example for the rest of the team.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said, leaning forward for the pitcher of beer. I might not be able to tell him he couldn’t sit with us, but I’d be damned if I was giving up my seat for him. It was common knowledge that I always sat at the edge because I couldn’t stand being crowded. Besides, we’d get more than enough time together after tomorrow when we became roommates.

  “Seriously, are you gonna tap that tonight?” Kevin pressed as he helped himself to a glass of beer. The guy really needed to learn boundaries. He didn’t know me well enough to give me shit about my personal life.

  “Nope,” I responded, my lips popping on the word in an attempt to get him to take the hint. Jason cocked one eyebrow, letting me know I was close to crossing the line. I shrugged, feeling just tipsy enough that I didn’t care.

  I tried begging off, reminding the guys that I had an early morning and that none of us needed to close down the bar since it was an early afternoon game tomorrow. “Come on, Tucker, don’t be a punk,” Jason teased as he filled my glass.

  I glared at him, pissed to be called out in front of everyone. The rest of the guys chimed in and before I knew it, our table was littered with empty shot glasses. Tomorrow was going to hurt. A lot.

  Chapter 6

  “You’re opening up too much. You need to work on your balance, otherwise you’re not going to turn your year around,” my father criticized as Mom served up a late night meal of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I was going to be paying for this weekend’s shitty diet all through next week, but it’d be worth it. This meal was Mom’s way of trying to cheer me up after a bad game. The team might have won, but I stunk like Limburger cheese. Not pretty. She’d made this meal after every bad game since I was eight, and probably would until I retired.

  “I love you, Dad, but do you really think I need you to point out what I fu–screwed up tonight?” We might be in my home, but that didn’t mean I didn’t regret almost swearing in front of Mom. My parents may be chill about most things, but respect was one area where there was no leniency.

  “Yes, son, I do,” he informed me. “You know I’m not trying to be over-bearing, but sometimes you get ahead of yourself and don’t see what you’re doing wrong. I know you have other things on your mind today, but that doesn’t mean you can afford to get sloppy.”

  “Dad, today had nothing to do with anything other than me not sleeping well last night,” I told him. Of course, it wasn’t looking like tonight was going to be any better. After one night sleeping with Sean’s back pressed against my chest, I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone. My irritation wasn’t fair to him since I understood why he was staying at the hotel, but there was that jealous spot in the back of my mind that wanted him to find a way to be here. “It’s not unusual for any of us to have a bad day. It happens to everyone, whether you’re a baseball player or a computer programmer. The difference is that our bad days are broadcast on national television.”

  My dad seemed somewhat appeased by the explanation and the table was silent as we all ate. I wondered if either of my parents were going to say anything else, but as soon as they finished eating, Mom cleared the table and the two of them said goodnight.

  I grabbed another quick shower, allowing the high-pressure jets to pound into the tight muscles in my back before sliding into bed to read. I found myself rereading the same passages over and over because my mind was still trying to process everything that had happened since last night at this time, so I closed the book and turned off the light.

  Sitting in the darkness wasn’t much better, especially when I reached for the pillow on the other side of the bed and caught a whiff of Sean’s cologne. My stomach fluttered and I scolded myself for allowing something so girly to turn me on. Seriously, guys weren’t supposed to get hard from smelling another man on their sheets, were they?

  Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, only to have my cell phone start blowing up what seemed like minutes later. I had three missed calls and a text message from Jason Klein.

  Jason: Any chance you’re up and want to come help with this situation we seem to have?

  That sounded ominous. I clicked the link, which was to a video of Sean in the middle of the dance floor, shaking his ass and trying to get others to join him. The quality of the video wasn’t great, but Sean was clearly wasted. He looked sinfully fuckable in his tight jeans as his hips swayed seductively with the music. I rolled over and saw that it was after three in the morning.

  Me: Did you get him to his room yet?

  The hotel bar closed at two, so hopefully that meant Sean was passed out on his bed. Tomorrow, I’d be sure to order the greasiest, n
astiest breakfast possible to pay him back for waking me up.

  Jason: Nope. We wound up in Kevin Green’s suite. Seriously, he needs to go so the rest of us can sleep. I don’t want to leave the two of them alone because they’re like oil and water. Add alcohol and it’s a recipe for disaster.

  Me: Make sure his phone is close and I’ll call in a few.

  Three and a half hours of sleep was going to make for another shitty day. At best, I’d be able to convince Sean to go to bed and then I’d get about four more hours, which still wasn’t enough.

  The first time I tried calling Sean, it rang four times before his voicemail picked up, so I hung up and dialed again. “Hey, you,” Sean slurred when he answered the phone. “I thought you were going to get some sleep?”

  “I was, until a certain someone decided to shake his groove thing out on the dance floor,” I responded, trying to hide my amusement. Yes, I was still pissed, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t funny to see Sean drunk enough to dance. He was usually the responsible one whenever the guys went out.

  “Aww, baby, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Wait, how did you know about that? Are you in the hotel? Oh, my God, please tell me you’re not in the room waiting for me. I’ll head back right now.”

  I didn’t respond right away, figuring it’d work to get him out of the suite and into his own room. Sean quickly said his goodbyes and I heard a door slam behind him. I pulled the phone away from my ear when it signaled a new text.

  Jason: I don’t know what you said to him, but it worked. Thanks. I owe you a drink the next time you’re in Milwaukee.

  Another door closed and I knew Sean had made it to his room. “Wait, where are you?” he asked, obviously confused.

  “I’m at home in bed, Sean,” I told him gruffly. “And I would be sleeping, but apparently Klein figures I’m your keeper and he texted me because you were the life of the party tonight.”

  “That’s not fair,” he whined. “I left the party because I thought you were here waiting for me.”

  “I know.” I chuckled, wondering if he’d remember any of this in the morning. “And now that you’re back in your room, you need to take some Tylenol, chug a bottle of water and get some sleep. Do you have any Gatorade in the room?”

  “No, but you could bring me some and then we could go to sleep together,” he slurred. “If you bring a change of clothes with you, we could sneak down the fire exit before anyone wakes up.” If he thought me sneaking into his hotel room on the team floor in the middle of the night was a good idea, he should’ve quit drinking long ago.

  “Not happening. What I will do is bring some with me when we come to pick you up in the morning.” I silently cursed when I realized my alarm was going to go off in less than four hours.

  “If you come and get me now, we could go back to your place and sleep until your mom makes breakfast,” he suggested. “She’s a good woman. Always making sure we’re fed.”

  “I’m not getting dressed and driving down there to pick you up right now,” I informed him. He grumbled into the phone and I could almost picture him pouting.

  “Baby,” he groaned, elongating the word by about four extra syllables. “I wanna see you tonight. Your bed is way better than this one.”

  “I understand that, but you’re drunk and we both need some sleep. I’m going to say goodnight, you’re going to say it back, and then I’ll call to make sure you’re up by eight. Got it?” I wondered how it happened that I was the responsible one for a change.

  “No, but I don’t think I have a choice, do I?”

  “Nope,” I agreed with him. “Now, are you laying down?”

  “Yeah,” he grumbled.

  “Did you get your pants and shoes off?” I asked. I heard rustling on the other end of the line and figured he’d simply fallen onto the bed, just like last night.

  “Now that I’m almost naked, are you going to tell me all the stuff you want to do to me?” he asked, his voice filled with mischief and hope.

  “No, I’m going to tell you goodnight.”

  “Mace?” he asked warily.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you regret last night?”

  “Not a bit,” I said firmly. “What brought that on?”

  “You won’t come down here, and I know that you’ve only been with women before, so I’d understand if you decided that you were still more into tits than dicks.” For the first time in the past twenty minutes, I was thankful Sean was drunk. Sober, he would have bottled up these doubts until he couldn’t take it any longer and we’d wind up fighting. Now, whether he remembered this or not come morning, I knew what was on his mind.

  “Sean, I’m not driving to the hotel because it’s almost four o’clock and we both have to be up in the morning,” I said softly, trying to soothe him enough that he’d pass out. “I wanted to spend time with you tonight, if you remember, but you had obligations with your guys. There will be time for us later.”

  That had already become my personal mantra in the past twenty-four hours. Otherwise, it would have been eating away at me to know that we’d be at the mercy of our schedules for the next several months. Had Sean not brought up the idea of us being more than fuck buddies this morning, I would have been fine, but it had. He had planted the seed for us being something meaningful and made me think about taking that step with him.

  “You mean that, don’t you?” He didn’t sound like he was questioning the sincerity of my words, more that he was in awe that I did mean it.

  “Yeah, babe, I do. I won’t lie, it’s a bit daunting for me to not only open up this side of myself, but to take the chance with you, but I know it’ll work out however it’s supposed to,” I reassured both of us. “Now, some of us have to get some sleep. And that includes you, because Angel’s going to have your ass working doubly hard tomorrow when he sees that video of you dancing and realizes how drunk you were.”

  Sean and his pitching coach had a great rapport, but Angel Johnson had zero pity for self-inflicted pain. Sean groaned, likely an agreement that he’d be punished tomorrow in the bullpen. “Okay, fine. You’ll be here by eight-thirty, right?”

  “Yep, with my parents, thanks to you,” I teased. “But don’t worry, I think we’ll be able to sneak away for a few minutes before bringing you back to the bus.”

  It wasn’t going to be easy, but I would find a way to say goodbye to him before the game since there’d be no time after. We’d both get on our teams’ buses and head to the airport and he’d head to Boston while we made our way to Arizona. I’d compared our team schedules, and it looked like we might be able to steal some time together in about a month, when he’d have a day off and we were playing at home. That was longer than I wanted to wait to see him again, but there was no way around the schedules set by the league.

  “Okay,” he responded sleepily. If we didn’t hang up now, I was fairly certain I’d be listening to his soft snores within a minute. “See you then.”

  “Sweet dreams.” He didn’t answer, so I hung up the phone and rolled over, praying I wasn’t up for the day.

  Sean looked like shit when I pulled up in front of the hotel, but he was dressed and ready to go. His hair wasn’t styled and he had dark bags under his eyes, but at least he’d put on his suit to save a few minutes later. In contrast, I was still wearing a pair of ripped up jeans and an old Red Barons t-shirt from my minor league days.

  My parents offered to sit in the back seat so I could talk to Sean as we drove to breakfast. I had considered a diner around the block from the hotel, until my mom pointed out that driving would give us a bit of privacy and there’d be less chance of running into anyone he knew. I seriously needed to find a way to thank both of them for being so cool about Sean and me.

  My plan to make Sean’s stomach churn was successful. I swear he started turning green as I asked for the diner’s slop, as they called it: a bed of hash browns with two eggs over easy and sausage gravy. I’d only be able to eat about a quarter of it, but I had p
lanned ahead and eaten a healthy breakfast at home while Mom got ready to go.

  The waitress placed our meals on the table and within seconds, Sean lurched out of his seat and ran toward the restrooms. I waited a few minutes before excusing myself to follow him to make sure he was okay. He hadn’t even managed to lock the stall door before doubling over in front of the toilet. I stepped in behind him, latched the door, and started rubbing light circles around his back.

  “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he asked between heaves.

  “Yeah, but turnabout is fair play,” I reminded him, trying to hide my smile in case he turned to face me. “And it’s your own fault for losing count of how many shots you’d had. I thought you were the guy who always knew when he’d reached his limit.”

  “Fuck you, Mace,” he groaned, leaning against the cool metal wall. He waited a full minute to make sure he wasn’t going to hurl anymore before pushing himself upright to turn around. “I seriously hate you.”

  “Nah, you could never hate me,” I said confidently. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him. This wasn’t the send-off I’d hoped for, but there was a line I wasn’t ready to cross, and kissing him after he puked up the last of whatever he drank last night was definitely on the other side of that line. “But I bet you’ll remember this before the next time we get time together.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry if I was weird last night,” he apologized. “And I’m sure you’d rather have not had to rub my back this morning.”

  “I’d rub your back anytime, Sean,” I whispered before nipping at his ear. “Watching you puke up whatever you still had in your stomach wasn’t the best start to my morning, but I figured it was inevitable after talking to you before you passed out this morning,” I chided him. “And as for last night, I’m sure a time’s going to come when you’re the one having to talk me down, so it’s all good.”

  As fun as it was sitting in a locked bathroom stall, it wasn’t smart. Anyone could walk in and overhear us, and then they’d know who was in the stall if they waited us out. I peeked through the crack between the door and the frame before unlocking the door. I turned to Sean and kissed his cheek. “We’re going to have to hurry; otherwise you’re going to miss the bus.”