Running a kids’ T-ball practice was a surprisingly good workout, between the running and the jogging between kids and chasing after stray whiffle balls. Only one kid cried, because another kid put gum in his hair when Jeff wasn’t looking.
“Amanda!” Crap, was that her name? Whatever. “What are you doing?”
“Uh.” Amanda put both hands behind her back, but the gum gave her away, stretching between—oh, who was the other kid? Miller? Molson? Some kind of beer name—between the other kid’s head and her hand. “Nothing.”
“Christ,” Jeff muttered. Were parents watching this? No, they were mostly gossiping. A few of them glanced at him from time to time, or at Carter, but he was pretty sure that had nothing to do with Amanda and Beer Kid. “Okay—Miller?”
The kid sniffed. “Morgan.”
Okay, so it was Rum Kid, not Beer Kid. Fine. “Morgan. If you hold really still, I think I can get the gum out. Amanda?”
She looked up at him with wide brown eyes.
“Drop the gum, please, and go see if Coach Carter needs help doing the batting order for practice.” He didn’t know if that counted as a punishment, but at least it got her away from this poor kid.
The gum hadn’t gotten in too far, so it was mostly just gross and not a disaster. Jeff pulled a dinner napkin from his pocket and picked up the bulk of it. “Okay, Morgan, I can get most of it out, but I might make what’s left in there worse, or I can get out my pocket knife and cut a little bit of your hair and get all of it right away. What do you think?”
One little snip later, Morgan’s tears dried up and Jeff made a trip to the garbage to dispose of the gum.
“New rule,” he told Carter, who was holding back an obvious laugh.
“Oh?”
Jeff flicked his gaze to Amanda. “No gum during T-ball practice.”
Carter grinned.
Practice ended at seven thirty, and the parents came by to thank Jeff for stepping in or to commiserate with Carter about his injury. Jeff was 99 percent sure most of them had known Carter in high school, and even Jeff had had classes with one or two. He got the vibe they’d been sitting around deciding who was going to ask if Jeff and Carter weretogethertogether, and he had no interest in them getting an answer before he did.
“Nice seeing you guys,” he said as he threw the last of the equipment in the bag, “but it’s been a long day and it’s about time for Carter’s knockout painkillers. Maybe I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
Carter raised an eyebrow at him as they walked toward Jeff’s truck together. “Subtle,” he said.
“Hey, it worked.”
That buzzing energy he’d felt between them in the dugout returned on the drive, but Jeff kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, even if he couldn’t help his wandering mind.
What would happen if he got out of the truck at Carter’s? Would Carter invite him in? He couldn’t be imagining the way Carter had looked at him, and he knew himself well enough. His own desire would’ve been plain. Hell, he was getting hard now just thinking about it.
Were they really going to do this? How much could Carter physically manage with a broken foot?
Fuck it. Jeff was thirty seconds from pulling the truck over and blowing him on the side of the road.
But then, suddenly, they were in Carter’s driveway, the truck’s engine ticking as it cooled. Neither of them had spoken since they left the diamond.
Finally Carter said, “D’you wanna—”
Jeff’s damp fingers slipped a little against the plastic as he unbuckled his seat belt. “Jesus yes.”
LESSON THREE
Make Room for New Things
GET YOURminds out of the gutter. Not likethat. Or at least, not only like that.
In theory, dealing with your shit should leave space in your life for happy, nonshit things. In practice, those spaces fill up with grocery shopping and cleaning behind the couch. Yes, even rock stars get dust bunnies.
New relationships need space to grow—shared hobbies and shared time. A drawer in the dresser, not just room in your… heart (stop snickering). But it’s easy to let those spaces get cluttered with less important stuff. The weeds of life. Jobs, family, friends, chores, and so on are allnecessaryparts of life, but they’re alsoestablishedparts of your life. They have roots already. They’re strong enough to survive a little neglect. New relationships, not so much.
