"No. You're just acting like one."Mattsighs and gentles his voice."Look, I don't want to see you with another broken heart, either. But this sleeping around is getting old, and I think you know it. You wantedPalmerto give you achance. You need to give her one, too. If you really believe she's it for you, then you gotta man up and stopplayingthese games. You know Mama keeps hinting aboutlos nietos."
"You're the oldest,"I remind him with a snort."Why don't you get right on that while I figure this out first?"
"I'm working on it,"Mattsays, his lips twitching."Gotta convinceBiancato marry me first, then we can move on to making grandkids."
I sit up and nearly spill my owndrink."For real? You're thinking of proposing? How did I not know this?"
"You haven’t asked."
"Damn. Congratulations."
Mattgrunts."Don't jinx it."
"Oh, come on. She's gonna say yes. For whatever weird reason, that woman's nuts over you."
A reluctant smile curves his lips."Pretty crazy about her, too."
An unexpected pang of envy spears through me. My brother has been quietly preparing a new ilfe with the woman of his dreams while I've been out screwing around, pining for my own dream girl. Now I have her and I'm letting old insecurities get in the way of keeping her. My brother is right. I've been acting like a cowardly asshole.
"All right,Carlito,"my brother says, taking a tissue and wiping up the little spill."Are we done talking about our feelings? Because it's the bottom of the ninth and the O's are one out away from beating the Yankees."
We settle back towatchthe rest of thegame, which goes into two overtime innings. But by the time the Orioles squeak out a win, I've already figured out what I'm going to do aboutPalmer.Startingwith an apology.
Twenty-Six
Palmer
Booneand I had a lovelydinnerafter our win against Boston last week, but I couldn't keep my mind offCharlieor the weird way we'd parted. After dessert and distracted conversation on my part, which I waved off as exhaustion,Boonedropped me off at the apartment. I hadn't heard fromCharlieall evening and debated whether I should reach out. In the end, I went to bed and had a restless sleep, figuring I'd deal with it in the morning.
But then I didn't hear much from him over the next few days, and I didn't see him at all after Saturday'sgame. On Sunday, he had supper with his family in Annapolis, while travel andpracticekept us apart for several days after. His messages to me were—okay, I guess. They lacked a lot of the flirtatious intensity I'd come to enjoy. I could feel him pulling away and chalked it up to the end of theseasoncoming.
This is all part of the lesson for me. I won't become clingy or try to orchestrate ways to keep him, as I would've in the past. If it's ending, it's ending. I'll simplywalkaway with fond memories and a locked-down heart,exactlymy goal when I started all this withCharlie. The ache in mychestis nothing to worry about. Probably indigestion from Taco Tuesday.
Practiceis intense as westartheading into the playoffs. After another scorching day on thefield, I shower and change, checking my phone to find a number of messages from my mother asking me to call her"ASAP!"Boonehas also left a message thanking me for the tickets and suggestingdinnernext week. I mark that one to reply to later. AndRaniahas sent me a text asking if we could talk.Delete. There's nothing fromCharlie, which is no longer a surprise. Was he jealous ofBoone? Because it almost seemed that way. I dismiss the notion.Charliedoesn't do jealousy becauseCharliedoesn't do serious.
Myteammatesare swarming around someone outside the exit. As I stroll closer, I see it'sCharlie. He's holding out a tray of milky white iced drinks. A chorus of"Thanks,Charlie" resounds as they each take a cup. There's one left when I get up to him, though it's a darker shade than the others were.
He plucks it out of the tray and hands it to me with a flourish."Double mocha salted caramel with oatmilk, no whip, lightice."
I eye him with suspicion, but take the iced latte."You bought everyone iced lattes?"
"I wanted to buy you an iced latte, your favorite. But I know you don't want to call unnecessaryattentionto us, so I bought everyone adrinkand figured no one would be the wiser."
Icockan eyebrow."You got everyone double mocha salted caramel lattes?"
He widens his eyes comically."Heavens, no. They all got vanilla lattes. Seemed the safest choice."
"Definitely the most basic,"I joke."Thanks. I can use thepick-me-up."
"Are you heading home?"heasks, walking me to my car.
"Yeah.Coachwhipped us pretty good today."
"So no plans?"He opens my door after I unlock it.
"Other than a pizza, this latte, and some faux Thin Mints I picked up at Aldi, nope. No plans."I toss my bag on the passenger seat andslidebehind the wheel.
"WillBoonebe joining you?"His voice is even, but hisgazewavers.
