“Yes, sir.”
“See if Luke will catch for you. Having someone you’re comfortable with helps.”
“He said he would if I got the call.”
Brophy laughed softly. “No surprise there. All right Coury, get some rest and come ready to show your stuff.”
“I will. Thanks, Coach.”
“You bet.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket and held his hand there for a few seconds before he looked up. He should have been bouncing with excitement, but he had a mess to deal with.
“Was that him?” Liam asked.
Coury nodded. “He wants to see me pitch tomorrow morning.”
“Who does?” Beckett asked. His tone was softer, but still angry.
“Scout for the Braves.”
“See?” He pointed to Liam first, then shifted to Coury. “I told you not to do this. You know you’re leaving. Why couldn’t you hit on someone else?”
“Liam and I talked. He knew the deal.”
“Whatever.” He held up his hands. “Just get the fuck out.”
Coury flinched like Beckett had slapped him. It wasn’t a surprise. He knew his best friend better than anyone. Loyalty mattered. It was what brought him around when Coury told him he was bisexual. He’d told Beckett himself.
Not telling him this had been a mistake.
“I said get out.”
He ignored Beckett and looked at Liam. Their gazes met and Coury saw the hurt. It had finally hit home that Coury was leaving.
Bowing his head, he walked past the brothers, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his coat, and left. Raised voices rushed at him, but no one came after him. Liam let him leave without a word.
Coury got it. He was leaving. Better to let him go than lose his brother, too. That was what he’d want Liam to do.
But it still shredded his heart.
* * *
Liam
“What did I tell you?” Beckett shouted. “Itoldyou he was leaving.”
“I know that.” Clearly, he hadn’t realized how much it would hurt when the dream became real.
“And you did it anyway.” He snatched his bag from the floor and headed for the stairs. “Next time don’t ask me for advice if you’re just going to ignore me.”
“Right, becauseBeckett is always right. Just because you’ve had a string of girlfriends who never stick around doesn’t give you a PhD in relationships.”
He stormed past Pop and out to the back patio. Thankfully he’d left a pair of sneakers by the door, or he’d have had to walk on the freezing concrete in socks.
The night went tits up in a heartbeat. If only Beckett hadn’t been early.
He shook his head. It wouldn’t have mattered when or how Beckett had learned the truth. His reaction to Coury would have been the same.
