“Just this article about a player from the Reds and how he was recruited.”
“Which one?”
“Colbert. He’s a relief pitcher.”
I nodded because I knew exactly who he was referring to. “His stats are impressive.”
“Yeah, he’s on track to surpass the record for most career saves in the Reds’ history. Listen to this part.”
As he read to me from the magazine, it felt like a surreal moment, when in fact it was just two guys doing something normal. Having a natural exchange. Being—dare I say it—friends.
“You should pass that on to Lopez,” I told him. Lopez was our closer, and he was really good at shutting out batters and saving games. It was my job to get him there, though. I needed the Pirates to be up a couple of runs before he could walk on the field to relieve me and close out the game with a win. And so far, our record was pretty decent, but I knew I could do better. I was my own worst enemy sometimes.
Girard closed the magazine and cut the lights, and we went to sleep. Or tried to. And based on the rustling of Girard’s sheets, he wasn’t having much better luck. Eventually we ended up in the same position as last time, on our sides, facing each other. I could just make out his features from a combo of the dim bathroom light and the moon shining through the window.
“Maclain?” His tone was cautious, and my stomach felt all funny.
“Yeah?”
“Are we ever gonna discuss the elephant in the room?” he asked, and I stiffened. “Just to throw it out there and deal with it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, weak and strangled. Holy fuck, was he really going there?
“Yeah, you do,” he said with a sigh. “I’m just gonna ask, and you do what you want with the question. But I hope we can talk it through.”
I didn’t move a muscle, cemented to my bed by fear and doubt, even though I wanted to bolt from the room and avoid this conversation at all costs. But maybe he was right, and it was time to get past it. My line of defense would be deny, deny, deny. It’d worked for me so far. At least on the surface.
“Last year in the shower when you were jerking off?” He let the question hang there between us, and I knew what was coming next. “Were you… Did you…moan my name?”
“No, hell no. You’re dreaming if you think I would do that, whatever you’re implying.”
“What, jerk off in the shower?” He made a frustrated sound. “Or jerk off to an image of me?”
“Don’t be so full of yourself,” I said in anger. “If I was going to imagine someone while yanking my dick, it wouldn’t be you.”
“How did I know you’d deny it?”
“Because it’s true?” I countered.
“You’re full of shit,” Girard scoffed, and then seemed to temper his tone as I tried to get my breathing under control. “Listen, it would be okay if you did. Donovan said he didn’t even realize he was attracted to guys until—”
“You talked to Donovan about this?” My heart was beating so frenetically, I thought I might pass out. I wasn’t ready for someone else to know. Fuck no. I could barely admit it to myself.
“No, calm down, Maclain. And lower your fucking voice. I’m just trying to have a conversation. Jesus Christ.”
Silence descended again, and I could see his chest moving from the sheer effort of breathing. I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin if he didn’t get on with it, and there was no way I would get my pulse under control until this conversation was over.
“All I was trying to say was that I asked Donovan general questions because I was curious, about me.”
I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. What exactly was Girard confessing here?
“Why would you do that?” I asked in a softer tone. I’d just done the same with Jasmine and Kellan, so who was the braver person here? Certainly not me.
“Because…” He took a deep breath. “Because I can admit I’m attracted to guys, and it’s new for me—very new, in fact.” He paused for effect as if to let that information sink in. Was he referring to me? “And last year when I happened upon you in the shower and I thought you… Well, I haven’t been able to shake it from my mind ever since.”
I shut my eyes as I trembled because neither had I. But I couldn’t say it aloud. I just couldn’t. I didn’t have enough courage. And besides, what if this got back to the team? I wasn’t sure I could survive the scrutiny. It was enough that they already saw me as a loose cannon. Wouldn’t want to tarnish my reputation even further.
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Girard said, breaking me out of my pitying thoughts. “I know what I heard that day, and it…it turned me the hell on. So whenever you’re ready to admit...”
Holy shit. I balled my shaking hands and tucked them under the sheets. “Admit what?”
“That there’s this thing—this tension—between us.”
“Yeah, it’s called irritation.”
“You’re ridiculous. Whatever you want to tell yourself. I just thought if it was mutual, we could at least be a support to each other. That’s all. Sorry I even brought it up.”
His voice sounded wrecked, like I’d disappointed him big-time, and I felt like shit. When he turned away from me, it felt like being on the dark side of the moon. Cold and…lonesome. I found I didn’t like it. And I also didn’t like making him feel like shit.
“Girard?”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t tell anyone or poke fun, not about something like that,” I said, using his words from earlier in the season about the bee thing.
“Yeah, okay.”
I lay there for the longest time, staring at the ceiling, berating myself for being the biggest jackass in the fucking world. He’d just confessed something personal, and I couldn’t find it in me to give even an inch of myself. I felt like I might puke, so I turned on my side to get some air into my lungs.
“Girard?”
No answer.
“I’m sorry. I…I’m not there yet. I’m not ready. Not sure I ever will be.” I wanted to tell him how scared I was. So fucking scared. “I know you’re disappointed.”
His soft snores were my only answer. I’d blown it again.
12
Girard
It was the bottom of the fourth, the bases were loaded, and if we didn’t pull out of this mess, we were going to blow our lead and end up with a loss for the day against the Barons. My pulse throbbed as Maclain’s fingers gripped the ball at his side.
This morning it took everything in me to push aside what happened last night, the crushing disappointment of trying to bridge this thing between us, to have an honest exchange. But Maclain was Maclain, stubborn and detached and a bit of a hot mess. It might’ve been better to just tell him to go to hell.
But that conversation—asking him point blank if he’d been jerking off to me in the shower and then admitting I was attracted to guys—had been scary as fuck. Now that it was out there, a part of me was relieved. Maybe I would be braver in other areas of my life as well.