He shrugged, completely unconcerned. “So. Why can’t she just hug both of you? Doesn’t sound too complicated to me.”
I tapped him on the arm again. “See, this is why you should stay a kid. And I’ll explain the trouble with hug sharing another day—maybe when you get that long-hauler license. Just trust me when I say I want her to save all her hugs for me.”
“If her hugs are so great, that sounds a little selfish of you, but whatever.” He took another sip of lemonade before continuing, “If it makes you feel any better, I promise I won’t let her hug me.”
I put a hand on his head. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He stood, clearly finished with the conversation. “Are we gonna hit some more balls or what?”
“Definitely.” I got to my feet as well. “Let’s go, Neil Armstrong.”
Maybe Rocco was right and it was selfish to hope Emmy would give her childhood friend the brush off and pick me, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel too bad about it. It was up to her at this point, so I needed to keep my focus on teaching my nephew how to connect with a pitch and leave all thoughts of “hugging” for later.
Chapter Fifteen
Oh, Barry Manilow, Say It Ain’t So
EMERSON
“Okay, I think I got the whole story now,” Ari said with a sigh as she walked into her guestroom with two cups of coffee. I scrambled from the covers, desperate for the caffeine. Sleep had not been my friend, and I’m sure it didn’t help that my blanket was lying uselessly on my own bed at home. Yes, I said it.
We’d had a heck of a time sorting Ponch out after his unbelievably embarrassing display the night before. I mean, really, what had he been thinking?! Jake and Nate had helped maneuver Ponch into the backseat of Ari’s Honda CR-V while she wrapped up her gig. I wasn’t ready to be alone with the drunken, asinine troubadour so I stayed in the bar and said my goodbyes to the group. The night had been going so well, I found myself not only freaked out by Ponch’s stunt but sharply disappointed I wouldn’t have more time with Gavin. I felt we were on the precipice of some kind of development in our acquaintance, and the interruption by my childhood friend left me feeling cheated somehow. I apologized profusely and told Gavin I’d get in touch in the morning. There was no way Ari could handle her brother on her own, and I wanted to nip this mess in the bud before Ponch went any further with his misguided declarations.
We drove to Ari’s so she could keep an eye on him overnight. I remained silent the entire twenty-minute drive while Ponch alternately apologized, sang, and doled out compliments. Each outburst was followed by Ari shouting some form of shut your effing face before I shut it for you! She got quite creative by the time we pulled into her driveway, at one point detailing how she was going to remove his testicles and reunite them with his body in a very different location.
To his credit, Ponch refrained from any attempts at groping me as we half-carried him inside and dumped him on the couch, and he finally stopped singing when we both threatened to call his mother. Let’s just say, drunk or sober, Ari got the musical genes in the family. At least the evening had proven something.
I retreated to Ari’s room to borrow a t-shirt and shorts, and by the time I returned, Ponch was passed out cold. I was prepared to testify that it was the alcohol and not Ari’s fist that had gotten him there. I told Ari about the strange phone call I’d gotten from Ponch earlier in the week, and she shared again about some odd comments he’d made when he heard I might be dating Gavin.
The whole thing made no sense. We’d all known each other for almost thirty years and, while I’m sure he’d been aware of my passing teenage crush, I was also confident he knew those feelings had faded long ago. And, besides, he was not the settling-down, love-declaring, karaoke-confessing type. At all. I’d always figured he’d end up being the lecherous old man making passes outside the plastic surgery center and fancying himself his generation’s Hugh Hefner.
Neither Ari nor I could make sense of the night’s strange turn of events, so we decided to drink wine and watch HGTV, leaving the great mystery to hopefully explain itself in the morning. Vicariously shopping for mansions and heckling the buyers and realtors was always a good distraction. Once the couple on the show had chosen the absolute worst house, I called Jay to let him know I wouldn’t be home and to make sure he was all right. Then Ari and I put a bucket by the side of the couch in case Ponch’s night sought revenge, and we went to bed.
I yawned and took my first sip of the caffeinated nectar of the gods. “So where is Romeo?” I asked Ari. “I hope he has a headache.”
Ari sat cross-legged on the bed and grinned like a proper wicked sister. “Oh yeah. He’s hurting bigtime. And he’s currently in my shower hiding from you and attempting to wash the shame off.”
I snickered and motioned for her to tell me what she’d learned.
She set her cup down on the bedside table and folded her hands together in her lap. “Wait for it.” She cocked her head, making sure she had my full attention. “My brother, king of the ho-bags, champion of one-night-stands, financier of condom factories the world over, breaker of bimbo’s hearts everywhere…Got. Dumped.”
I gasped. Literally. My inhale was so sharp and sudden I forgot I had a mouth full of coffee and ended up sputtering and coughing for the next minute.
Ponch got dumped? This did not compute.
After a few well-placed back thumps and another coughing fit, I finally regained the ability to speak. “But…but that would mean he’d been in a relationship.”
Ari extended her hands. “I know! Believe me, I’m as surprised as you.” She settled in to share the dirt. “Her name is Holly, and from what Ponch said, she was apparently immune to his normal sleazy pick-up lines. She totally made him work for it, and he figured she was just playing hard to get. So, he jumped through her hoops. Problem is, he started getting into her.” Ari’s expression turned a bit peevish. “How he kept this from me I have no idea.”
I shook my head since I was as baffled as she was.
“Anyway, this Holly woman finally agreed to date him, but then she somehow found out about all the notches in his bedpost—oh, who are we kidding? They’d never fit on one measly bedpost.” Ari shook her head and snickered.
I pushed the story along. “So she dumped him. Is it wrong that it makes me like her a little?” I grimaced.
“Are you kidding? I’m considering dumping you as my bestie and recruiting her. I mean, it’s about damn time he had a wake-up call, the big slut. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s never contracted some nasty disease that made his balls fall off.”
“Eww. Thanks for that visual.”
She gave her head a little bow, ignoring my sarcasm, and grabbed her coffee. “How this all translated into him sniffing around you and announcing in front of an entire bar that you’re the ‘candle in his window’ I have no idea.” At this point she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. I was afraid the coffee was going to come out her nose, she was laughing so hard. Between deep gasps for breath she half-laughed/half-sang the lyrics that would probably make me cringe for the rest of my life.
“He’s ruined REO Speedwagon for me,” I curled my lip.
“Ha! He’s made them my all-time favorite band. Oh God, I can’t wait to tell Tony and Gabe,” she said, referring to her other brothers.
Oh God, they would eviscerate Ponch. I grinned but quickly sobered. “Great. Now things are going to be awkward and uncomfortable between Ponch and me.”
She shook her head, still recovering. “No. Not happening. I told him he could wallow in his own humiliation for the time it takes him to shower, but then he’s clearing the air and we’re going back to normal.”
I hoped it would be that simple.
“Sooo.” Ponch’s voice came from behind me where I sat at the kitchen table checking my email on my phone. He crossed over and pulled a chair out, turning it around so he could straddle it. Even hungover and groveling, he still maintain
ed some of his swagger. Although his handsome face was a bit green, I wasn’t too displeased to notice. Crap, this was uncomfortable.
I pulled my lips into a thin line and raised my eyebrows. “So.”
Then he put his head in his hands and sighed. “I am so fuckin’ sorry, Emerson. I don’t even know how to explain except to say I’m a complete asshole.” He drew his hands down over his face and looked at me. “I just…I met this girl. Well, I’m sure Ari told you.” I nodded and he continued. “I got this taste of something good, something special I never even knew I could have. And then it was gone.”
His face held an expression I’d never seen on him before. He looked wistful and heartbroken. Part of me wanted to hug him, but I was still holding onto a little anger and frustration so I let him continue.
“The only way I could think of to stay sane was to go out and find it again. So, I guess I thought of you.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but there was absolutely nothing I could say to that. Even the concept was nuts.
He gestured up and down. “I mean, you’re hot in an understated kind of way, and we’re friends. I figured you’d never dump me because you’re so nice and, I don’t know, conscientious I guess?”
He was asking me? The workings of his brain of late were as foreign to me as Swahili. I blinked slowly, making him bark out a small laugh at his own expense.
“I know I sound like a crazy person, but that day at the ball field—when I saw you look at that baseball guy—I thought, hey, maybe Emerson isn’t just interested in nerds and boring dudes. No offense.” His gaze flashed to mine again, suddenly realizing his words might be less than tactful.
The whole thing was so odd, I just waved him off and let him get on with it. His lips quirked up briefly and he ran a hand through his hair.
“So, anyway, I started acting all stupid towards you. And then last night, I was on my way to join you guys at the table and I saw you smile at that guy.” He caught my eye and held it while he shook his head. “I’ve never seen you smile like that.”
I swallowed, not wanting to acknowledge that he may just be right. I couldn’t think about that now, so I just sat there speechless.
“Well, I think you know the rest. I saw my plan going up in smoke and I had a few too many—and, well, yeah.” He let that sit out there for a moment and I knew we were both replaying the scene from the bar like the colossal train wreck it was. “I’m so sorry, Emerson. It was unfair of me to put you in that position, and it was stupid of me to think that I could just replace one girl with another and not miss a beat—like people are interchangeable and feelings just transfer like that.” He snapped his fingers and then gave a mirthless laugh. “I know It’s not that simple, and I probably deserve to feel like shit after the way I’ve always been with women, you know?” He scrubbed his hair with both hands, leaving it sticking up in all directions. He looked a bit lost, and this time, I got up and went to his side of the table to hug him.
“All this hearts and feelings stuff is harder than it looks, isn’t it?” I gave him a last squeeze and pulled back.
“No shit. I feel like I’m about fourteen. I should probably be asking Jay for advice.”
I smiled. “Well, he is wiser than the lot of us put together, after all.” I patted the top of Ponch’s head and went back to my seat where I studied him as I sipped my coffee. Finally, I said, “You know you need to resolve this whole Holly thing, right?”
He dropped his head back and groaned. “I know. I heard she started dating this other guy, though. Probably some douchebag,” he said and then caught my disapproving look. “Okay, fine, whoever he is, he’s probably a damn sight better than me.”
“That’s more like it, Barry Manilow,” Ari commented as she sauntered into the kitchen. “Nice to see you getting a little perspective, bro.” She set down her cup and leaned her back against the counter with her arms crossed. “Everything sorted here?”
Ponch raised his eyebrows at me. I felt my lips tug. “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
And it was. Except for that niggling feeling at the base of my neck that told me if Ponch—the least emotionally aware person in the universe—could sense the chemistry and connection between Gavin and me, I was in deep, deep trouble. The question was, did I want to be?
Emerson: Hi
Maybe: Hey – you okay?
Emerson: Yes. Finally got home.
Shoot. I realized how that sounded too late. I bit my thumb. Should I clarify? Darn it. No response.
Emerson: FYI – whatever demon was possessing Ponch last night has been exorcised. Thought you might want to know.
There, that was better.
Maybe: So he’s done singing eighties love ballads to you?
Emerson: Most definitely. And he’s also got a doozy of a hangover as punishment.
Maybe: I would say I feel bad, but he kind of cramped my style on our date.
Emerson: Oh, it was a date, was it?
Maybe: Uh, yeah. You’re a smart woman—definitely smart enough to see through that whole casual group hangout bullshit.
Emerson: Are you saying you tricked me into a second date?
Maybe: Third date.
Emerson: How do you figure?
I was pretty sure dinner and then karaoke were the only two dates.
Maybe: Coffee in your office, dinner at Gia, karaoke nightmare—that’s three.
Emerson: You’re counting coffee in my office as a date? You spent more time talking to my boss than with me!
Maybe: Ah, but it ended with a kiss. Definitely qualifies as a date.
Emerson: Hmm.
Maybe: So, I was thinking we should get together to prepare for your tournament.
Emerson: Prepare?
Maybe: I need to see your moves. Maybe I can give you some pointers.
Emerson: As tempting as that sounds, I spent too much time goofing off this weekend and I have tons of work to catch up on for the next few days.
Maybe: Will you be at any of Jay’s games this week? He’s got one tomorrow night and one on Thursday.
He knew my brother’s schedule better than I did.
Emerson: I can try to make Thursday, but there’s no way I can make it tomorrow.
Maybe: Okay, then I’ll make sure I’m at Thursday’s game. And you let me know if any time clears up for our own training in the meantime.
I was starting to think I might make the time if it wasn’t readily available. That should have sent huge red flags up in my head, but my heart and other parts were too busy waving giant green ones.
Emerson: Okay, sounds good.
Maybe: Talk later, Emmy.
The fact that I, once again, did not correct him on my name signified that his contact info would soon be changing from Maybe to a big fat Yes.
Jay walked by the couch on his way to the kitchen. I’d been worried leaving him alone the night before, but he would have laughed if I told him.
“Hey, I’m going to try to make your game on Thursday night. What time is it?”
He looked surprised that I knew he even had a game, but then his lips quirked up so I could tell the idea pleased him.
“I gotta check, but they’re usually around 6:30.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best to be there.”
“Don’t worry if you can’t make it. There will be other games.”
I could have predicted he’d say that.
“Hey, did Mom tell you they’re coming through town in a few weeks?”
“No.” I was a bit taken aback. They’d only been gone for a month.
“I think they’re secretly worried about me or something, but they’re doing a fair in Asheville.”
“I’ll have to call her and get the details. I’m sure you miss them.” I watched him closely to gauge his response. He seemed happy lately, but I had to keep an eye on him.
He shrugged. “Well, yeah, but you’re not half bad.” I caught the sly smile and it set my mind at ease.
I crooked
my finger. “Come here. I need to show you something.”
“Ha! I’m not falling for that.” He escaped to the kitchen before I could exact my sisterly revenge.
Chapter Sixteen
Slugger
GAVIN
I went a little stir-crazy the rest of the day, despite receiving Emmy’s text that things with Ponch were settled. Because that didn’t exactly mean things were settled with me. Far from it. Thankfully, I’d at least see her Saturday since that was the first game of the Bar Association softball tournament. Emmy had explained at Tate’s that each participating firm was required to fill their roster with at least one-third female players, and immediate family members and significant others were allowed on the teams as long as they were of age. She also explained that if I thought this was some light-hearted exercise in bonding and camaraderie between lawyers, I was dead wrong. They took this shit seriously.
I’d meant what I said about getting together to prepare, and it only had a little to do with me wanting to get my hands on her again. Okay, scratch that. But when she’d told me she was on the team, it gave me pause. I’m sure that made me an asshole, but there did not appear to be a whole lot of muscle on that girl—there didn’t appear to be a whole lot of anything except some cute-as-hell freckles, a head full of auburn hair, and a large expanse of pale skin I’d like to place my mouth on for a good long while.
I figured if I could give her a few tips she might impress her boss and earn some brownie points and shit. It was obvious her work was her top priority, and I respected that. Not that I wasn’t hoping she could carve out some time to see if we had something between us, but I was impressed by how hard she worked to reach her goals.
Brett invited me to meet up with him and a couple guys for wings, but I figured I could take a page from Emmy’s book and buckle down and finish a project for one of my classes. That didn’t stop me from taking a few breaks to send her some casual yet charming texts. If this was all we had time for, I was going to take full advantage and work every angle I could.
The Game (Carolina Connections Book 4) Page 14
