As it were, I already struggled with those things, and though I was beginning to acknowledge that this attraction was part of me, accepting it or admitting it aloud was something altogether different.
We sat down to a dinner of ham, green bean casserole, and scalloped potatoes that were easily the best thing I’d ever tasted. When I moaned around another forkful, Gemma giggled.
“Sorry, been a long time since I’ve had homemade food.”
I regretted my words when Girard’s mom threw me a look of sympathy.
“Guess that means you’ll have to join us for more dinners,” Mr. Girard said.
“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” I replied, feeling my neck prickling.
He winked. “You can always trade us for computer help.”
“Now that’s a deal,” I said with a smile, and we clinked glasses.
“Mashed potatoes or scalloped?” Gemma asked suddenly, and I threw Girard a smile. Gemma and her questions, he’d say.
“Obviously, today it’s scalloped,” I replied, and she laughed. “Why, does your mom make amazing mashed potatoes too?”
She nodded. “Those are Jace’s favorite.”
When I spotted the note of melancholy in Mrs. Girard’s eyes, I imagined they were referring to their older brother, who was in the military.
“But now he has Megan, and she’s a good cook,” Gemma said in a singsong voice before her gaze zeroed in on me again. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Gemma,” her mom scolded, and I noticed Girard wincing in my sideview.
“What?” She pouted. “I was only curious.”
“Nah, I don’t have time during the baseball season,” I replied, then smirked at Girard. “Besides, I already have my hands full.”
“Ooh, was that a joke about Nickie? I think it was. Is he bossy on the field too?”
I laughed. “Oh, he’s bossy all right.”
“Sometimes you gotta be with stubborn people,” he countered.
“This one time when we were kids…” Gemma launched into this story about Girard babysitting her and not letting her watch a scary movie, but I could barely pay attention because I could feel Girard’s foot resting against mine under the table.
Just that little touch sent me reeling.
I smiled in all the right places as Gemma’s story unfolded, but being under Mrs. Girard’s scrutiny made me feel on the spot. Christ, could she see it? This thing between me and her son?
Thankfully, Mr. Girard stood up and began clearing dishes, and after helping with the cleanup, then lingering for a while to chat with him in the living room, I figured it was time to make my exit.
“Thanks for having me,” I said to Girard’s parents as his mom loaded me up with leftovers and kissed my cheek, making me blush. How long had it been since I’d had that sort of attention from a parent?
Girard walked me to the door, and we stood there awkwardly, like this had been a date or something. And as absurd as it sounded, I almost wanted him to kiss me good night like we were in one of those cheesy romance movies where the make-out session lasted through the credits. Definitely ridiculous.
As I got in my car and drove away, I realized this had been one of the best holidays I’d had in a long time.
20
Girard
I scooped up the grounder and threw the ball back to Hollister at first base. It was a home game, and as the infield continued practicing, I noticed that the stands were getting pretty full. It was possible the Pirates had attracted new fans because of our recent winning streak, but more likely, it was due to the first string of pleasant weather days we’d had all month. The sun was blazing and the temperature was high, but I wasn’t going to complain. It was better than playing in the rain and getting soaked to the bone.
Besides, we only had four weeks left of the season, so home games had become almost bittersweet for those of us on the team who’d be graduating at the end of the year.
As Hollister threw the ball to our third baseman, I was momentarily distracted by Kellan walking over to Donovan’s brother, Ricky, who was motioning animatedly from the stands. No doubt they’d be discussing the team’s stats, or maybe our winning streak. If it continued, we could conceivably get a top seed in the division. It would be a good way to go out. Obviously, doing well at regionals and even making it to the finals in the World Series would be better, but that was a tough road and meant competing against much better teams from around the country.
I could also blame my nostalgic mood on the fact that Maclain and I had been getting along on and off the field. We texted frequently, and though we’d only been alone together one other time, when the team had traveled to Atlanta for the weekend, that had been killer too. We’d passed out together again after he gave me a blowjob the first night, and I’d returned the favor the next. And damn, there was also that other thing that’d happened while I was giving him head. I’d reached behind his nuts to trace my finger around his hole, which made him instantly shoot all over his stomach.
I stood from my crouched position to give my groin a rest. I was wearing a cup to protect my goods, and no way would a boner feel good right now. The face mask and shin guards were constricting enough, especially in this oppressive heat.
Just as I scooped up another grounder, I noticed Maclain, who was throwing pitches outside the bullpen, stiffen and gape toward the stands. Following his line of sight, I spotted a man and a woman walking toward the field. They stopped at the fence line near first base and waved in Maclain’s direction. He jogged over to greet them, and when the woman showed off something glinting on her finger, I could only assume that my suspicions had been correct. That was Maclain’s stepdad and his now fiancée and, holy shit, they’d made it to a game. No wonder Maclain looked gobsmacked.
I could also tell he was trying to act all chill as he walked behind the batter’s box to get back to the dugout, but his stiff, awkward gait gave him away. At least to me.
“They made it, huh?” I said as he passed by me.
“Yeah,” he muttered, as if regretting ever wishing for such a thing. Or maybe he was conflicted about it because his face was definitely flushed, though that could’ve been from the heat. “Sounded like it was Nina’s idea.”
My gaze flashed toward the stands, where they’d sat down in an emptier section. “So, they’re engaged?”
“Uh-huh.” He rolled his eyes flippantly, but it couldn’t conceal the pain buried there. It was a tough subject for him, and I could only guess why. Maybe because his dad didn’t seem to have enough time for him, let alone someone new in his life. Yeah, I would’ve felt pretty at odds with it as well. Especially if I’d also been told to pack up my childhood room. Now I just wanted to march over there and give him a piece of my mind.
“Who knows if they’ll even make it through the entire game. Dad was already making excuses about work stuff he has to get back to. You know, the usual.”
I winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Is what it is,” he replied, his fingers tightening on his glove.
I saw Coach motioning over his shoulder from the dugout, so I said, “Okay, game time. Don’t forget to listen to all my calls.”