“Who is it for?”
If I pinched my face together any tighter, I’d implode on myself. My cheeks grew redder by the heartbeat. “Brett…”
He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Come on. Let’s play some pool.”
Together, we walked to the corner of the house, a glass structure overlooked part of the pool and patio. Inside sat a green pool table, the walls that weren’t glass covered in Riders, Brawlers, and Barracudas paraphernalia, all of Hiroshi’s past teams.
“So,” Brett said as he set up the first round. “When does he get here?”
I knew Brett wouldn’t stop until he got the baseline details out of me. And honestly? I sort of wanted to share.
“He’ll be here in a half hour,” I admitted.
Brett racked the balls several times, looking for some kind of perfection I couldn’t see. “Nervous?”
“Very.”
He took a swig of his beer before grabbing the pool cue. “Makes sense. Have you ever been this nervous before? Dude, you’re shaking out of your sandals.”
I thought on that as I watched Brett line up the first shot. “Yes, but not like the others.”
“Hmm, gotta be somethingspecialthis time.” He broke and we watched the pool balls bounce around the table to clicks and clacks of the balls colliding with one another.
“He’s different from the others.” By others, I meant threeseparate occasions over the course of ten years, none of them resulting in anything more than a first kiss after a couple of dates.
“Whattaya mean?”
Brett’s questions didn’t come across as inquisitorial, but rather, conversational. In front of others, he would tease relentlessly. One-on-one, his entire approach shifted.
“I dunno. He doesn’t know a lick about baseball, to start.”
Brett looked up from the pool table as the balls finished bouncing. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “He had no idea who I was.” Internally, I scolded myself for sounding too egotistical. It would come across as such to someone who didn’t live in our world, but I knew Brett understood what I meant.
“I call solids.” Brett lined up his next shot. “Bro, you didn’t come out to him, did you.” It wasn’t a question. He sank a ball in the corner pocket and lined up his next shot.
“No. Didn’t think I needed to. I… I mean, I tried flirting. I think it worked. Pretty sure he understood. He’s out. At least I assume. He had rainbows and stuff on his webpage.”
Brett paused while lining up a shot and looked up at me. “So he’s out. You’re not. Ain’t that gonna cause a problem, man?”
He sank a ball in a side pocket. I wasn’t going to get a turn anytime soon.
“I’m notnotout. I just…” I sighed. “You know me. I want to keep my private life private.”
Sank another one. “Yeah,tooprivate sometimes.”
He sank his fourth ball. I already resigned to defeat.
Brett won the first round by a mile. I set up the second round and he beat me again. When he set up the third round, a murmur outside caught my attention. The party was fully underway now, the pool mostly crowded with people I knew. One particular man stood out among the rest. I openly stared and watched as hepressed a polite smile on his face and weeded through the hordes of people.
His hair looked freshly cut. He wore a baby-blue V-neck t-shirt, khaki shorts that fell a few inches above his knees, and loafers. My eyes went to his legs—powerful and corded with muscle. Lean. A runner, I just knew he was a runner. His arms filled out his shirt, too. He wasn’t as skinny as he claimed to be.
“That him?” Brett asked as he came up behind me.
Alex’s head moved on a swivel. Looking for someone.
Looking for me.
