Homeruns: Wild Pitch Part 3

"Be careful, son," he advised me. "The two of you both have a lot on the line, and I can't think of many ways for the deck to be stacked more against you than it already is. Just...pay attention to both your head and your heart. You're both good kids and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt."

Chapter 5.

I was more relaxed than I'd been all season by the time Mason and Bill dropped me off in front of the hotel. I wanted desperately to kiss Mason goodbye, but that was out of the question for multiple reasons. Besides the fact that it wasn't a secret where we stayed when we were in town and there could be photographers or fans lurking in the shadows, I had to remember that any of my teammates could come walking up the sidewalk at any moment. And if that wasn't enough to deflate the semi I'd been trying to hide most of the morning, Bill was waiting at the pa.s.senger's door for me to vacate his seat. He'd been cool so far about the whole loud s.e.x in the bathroom, but I wasn't about to press my luck with him.

He offered me his hand as I stepped out of Mason's bright yellow Jeep Rubicon. "It was good seeing you again, Sean," Bill said sincerely. I stiffened when he pulled me in for a hug, mostly because I wasn't used to parents being openly affectionate. The Tucker household was much more one where love was known but not shown. He kept his voice low as he gave me the only advice I was going to get regarding whatever was or wasn't happening with his son. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Mason. You're both good kids and you deserve to be happy. That being said, you both have a lot on the line, so you need to beware of that. Don't be a stranger."

He thumped me on the back and sent me on my way. I waved over my shoulder as I walked into the lobby of the hotel. Jason was sitting on one of the plush couches waiting for me. "I was starting to think Mason had tied you up and thrown you in the bas.e.m.e.nt," he kidded. "You sure look like you're in a better mood today. Did Mason take you out to get your mind off life for a bit?"

Oh, if he only knew... But I couldn't tell Jason how much Mace helped me without my cheeks flus.h.i.+ng, thinking about how he'd helped improve my mood. "Nah, we stayed in, played some video games, and I gave him a hard time about his b.i.t.c.h of an ex-wife. You know, normal s.h.i.+t for a change. I'm going to run up and change. I'll be back down in a few."

I rushed up to my room, knowing that the bus would be pulling up out front in about ten minutes. It was stupid of me to stay out all night, but it wasn't like anyone would say anything since my body felt better than it had in a long time. Mason had to have the most comfortable bed on the market, or maybe it was having Mason curled up against my back all night that made it possible for me to wake up so rested.

The team bus pulled into the park shortly after two in the afternoon. Unconsciously, I found myself scanning the parking lot in search of Mason's Jeep. It stood out like a beacon, and I smiled at the thought that we were both here. Yeah, it was cheesy, but I didn't care. As always, we sat down for a team meal before the rest of the guys headed out to stretch while I made my way to the training room for a rub down. I wasn't nearly as stiff as I typically was the day after a road start, but I still groaned as the trainer ma.s.saged the kinks out of my shoulder and arm.

I had to keep reminding myself that no matter what else was going on outside the training room, I had a routine I needed to follow. Some people thought that being a pitcher was easy work since I only had to show up on the field once every five days and work for a few hours, but the truth was that the work never stopped. And if I threw my carefully crafted schedule out the window so I could get into the outfield early to help with batting practice, I'd be paying for it later.

I turned on a playlist as I started working on the elliptical. There were a lot of exercises I wouldn't be able to do since Chicago's visitor's facility was rather spa.r.s.e, but I'd still get a decent workout. As I fell into a steady lope, I reminded myself that after this series and a few days in Boston I'd be back to all the comforts of home.

Fans were starting to trickle into the park by the time I made my way to the outfield. Being so close to home, there were a number of families who'd driven down for the day, and I was reminded that there was more to the game than winning or losing when I saw a little boy waving wildly at me as I approached. I hated to admit it, but had I been pitching today, I would have likely kept my head down and kept walking with a casual wave so I wouldn't break my concentration. Lucky for him, I wasn't, so I took a moment to walk over to the end of the Bulldogs' dugout.

"Hey man, thanks for coming out today," I greeted the kid, who couldn't have been much more than nine or ten. "You going to help me cheer for the Mavericks?"

"Y-y-yes, sir," he stammered, flas.h.i.+ng me a grin full of teeth that looked too big for his mouth. "C-c-can I g-get a p-picture with you?"

A few older kids had noticed me near the railing and were making their way down. I didn't want to be a p.r.i.c.k, but Stu would have a conniption if I didn't get to work. "Yeah, but we have to hurry. If I don't get out there, they'll boot me to the curb," I said jokingly.

"They c-c-could never do that, Mr. Tucker. You're the b-b-best!" I wasn't so sure about that, but it was nice to hear all the same. The kid turned around and leaned against the railing so his father could snap a picture with his phone. As I said goodbye to the kid, his dad mouthed a quick thank you and they were off.

"Aww, that was cute," a familiar voice chortled from the dugout. I looked to my right and saw Mason leaning on the railing, watching me.

"Don't you think you should get some batting practice in?" I scolded. "Dobson is on the mound today, and you didn't do so hot yesterday."

It did make me feel slightly better that Mason hadn't gotten a hit off me. He might have been the only Bulldog who hadn't gotten on base while I was on the mound.

"It's okay, I'm pretty sure you used insider information against me." We both laughed loud enough to get the attention of one of his teammates. "I'd better get to it. Some of us actually have to work today."

"Jealous?" I asked.

"Maybe a little," he responded with a crooked smile.

There was so much more I wanted to say to him, namely I wanted to find out if we were going to get together again tonight, but I couldn't ask that now. It was foolish of me not to think of asking when we were at breakfast or in the car. I'd have to settle for sending him a text message before heading back to the hotel and sitting around waiting for him to get through with his post-game ritual. He'd been the last player out of the park since we were in the minors, and probably would be until the day he retired.

The entire team looked better during warm-ups. It gave me confidence that we'd manage to pull a win out of our a.s.ses to take the series, otherwise, it'd come down to tomorrow's game. Losing always sucked, but none of us wanted to have a series loss to Chicago early in the season hanging over our heads.

Unfortunately, the Bulldogs seemed to have the same idea we did, and it was rough first few innings. Every time we scored a run, they'd answer in the bottom of the inning. Our saving grace was a two-run homerun by Ricky White in the top of the seventh to put the Mavericks up by three heading into the seventh inning stretch. Tommy Randall pitched the game of his career trying to hold onto the save but the Bulldogs fought that much harder. With a win for Chicago, the series was tied at one all.

I kept to myself in the locker room, carefully avoiding the conversations about plans for the evening. I'm rarely in the mood for a night of drinking, but tonight I had a much better offer on the table. Or at least I hoped I did.

"Tucker, you're not getting out of this," Tommy yelled as I reached for the locker room door. "We're heading straight to the lobby bar when we get back to the hotel."

All eyes were on me by this point, waiting for me to give them an answer. "Yeah, of course," I acquiesced. As much as I wanted to spend the night at Mason's, I knew it'd draw far too much attention if I tried to bail on the guys.

I made my way out to the bus and sent Mason a message letting him know there was no way I'd be able to meet up tonight. His response was quick and understanding. He quickly sent a follow-up message, telling me to set my alarm for eight and he'd meet me for breakfast. I considered telling him it'd be reckless for us to be seen together in public, but then I considered the fact that we'd done the same thing almost every time our teams had met up over the years. Regardless of what happened last night, we were friends, and friends shared meals.

Jason slumped into the seat next to me at the back of the bus, leaning in to look at my phone. "Aww, aren't you two cute, sending messages back and forth as soon as the game ended," he teased. My cheeks flushed and I started wracking my brain, trying to figure out how to deflect his attention. "I'm glad he came down last night and you got away for a bit. You've been tense for a while, and I know you and Eric were close."

He knew? I s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in my seat. If Jason knew, who else had also figured it out? The longer I sat trying to stave off a panic attack, the more I realized the reaction was in my head. The idea of someone finding out I was gay still worried me, but it wasn't as terrifying if I thought of Mason having my back. That wound up being the thought that nearly sent me over the edge.

"I mean, Henderson's a pain in the a.s.s and I had to wear ear plugs to get any sleep because of his snoring, but it'd be weird to not have him in the other bed," he rambled, unaware of my anxiety. Okay, maybe he didn't know, but he'd figure it out if the paranoia kept up. "Not to mention the fact that you're going to have to break in a new roommate once we get to Boston. You might want to call it an early night and enjoy the peace and quiet, just in case you get a loudmouth who never shuts up."

"You mean like you?" I quipped, only half-joking. I chewed on Jason's words for a moment, wondering if there was talk of more shuffling that I hadn't heard. It seemed obvious to me that I'd be paired up with Kevin Green, seeing as he was the outfielder brought up to bring some power to our batting lineup. "And I'd already planned on turning in after one drink, two tops. Mason's parents are in town and his mom wants to go to breakfast tomorrow."

I was an idiot. Now, I had no choice but to get in touch with Mason and let him know our breakfast for two was now going to be a family affair.

Everyone rushed off the bus and up to their rooms to change the minute the bus was parked. Stu hollered after us to be smart and not stay out all night since tomorrow's game was an early one. His warnings likely fell on deaf ears because everyone was pumped and ready to get stupid. I lingered in my seat, waiting for everyone else to make their way down the steps. Stu placed a hand on my shoulder as I walked past him.

"Tucker, are you heading down to the bar?"

"For a little while, yeah, but I planned on making it an early night." Besides breakfast, tomorrow was bullpen day, which meant I was going to be pus.h.i.+ng my body much harder than I did today.

"We need more guys like you on the team, Tucker," he praised, giving my shoulder a paternal squeeze. "I don't expect you to stay out until the last kid goes up to his room, but keep an eye on them tonight, okay?"

"You got it," I a.s.sured him. He released me and I jogged down the steps before he asked anything else of me.

With my shoulders slumped forward, I sulked my way through the lobby, even less in the mood to join the guys than I had been a few minutes ago. The last time Stu had asked me to help keep an eye on the younger guys, I'd wound up so hung over I could barely function the next day. No way could I let that happen tonight.

Once I was safely inside my room, I scrolled through my contacts to give Mason a quick call. We were accustomed to going months without seeing one another, and yet tonight it weighed heavily on my mind that we were in the same city but not going to be able to meet up.

"You've reached Mason. I'm either busy or ignoring your call. If you leave a message, you'll figure out which when I either call you back or don't." I laughed at the blunt outgoing message on Mason's voicemail.

"Hey, it's me," I started, smacking myself in the forehead because I was fumbling to find something to say. "I hope you're just busy, because it'd suck to find out you're ignoring me. Anyway, I was calling to let you know I'm heading down to the lobby bar. If you wanted to swing by with your mom and dad, that'd be cool. Oh, and speaking of, I might have mentioned to Jason that I'm having breakfast with you and your parents tomorrow. I know it sucks, but I promise I'll make it up to you soon for blowing our date. h.e.l.l, can breakfast even be considered a date? I don't know. And while you said you were cool with neither of us looking for something else, that doesn't necessarily mean you're up for dating. Okay, well now I'm rambling, so I guess I'll shut up now. I'm beginning to think you're a bad influence."

G.o.d, I sounded like a giddy teenage girl. I'm not sure there was another man alive who had this effect on me. Then again, I imagined I wasn't much different than those girls when the captain of the football team asked them out.

Okay, time to drink before you totally turn into a chick, I chided myself mentally. I quickly changed into a pair of form-fitting jeans and a tight green Henley.

Once back downstairs, I settled into a corner booth with a few of the married players. They'd occasionally give Jason and me a hard time for being the token bachelors allowed into their little club, but then I'd remind them that we were the old-timers and that usually shut them right up.

"Tucker, are you ever going to settle down? It's gotta suck going home to that big, empty house when you get off the road," Dobson asked as the waitress delivered a round of shots. She set one in front of each of us, offering me a flirtatious smile and a wink. Wrong tree, sweetheart.

"It's not so bad," I lied. The truth was, I hated going home for that exact reason. After the initial slap in the face provided by the dark, silent rooms, the quiet wasn't so bad for a while. I did enjoy being able to do what I wanted when I wanted without anyone telling me to do something else, but I'd have gladly given that up in order to have someone to curl up on the couch with to watch a movie, or even someone to cook a simple dinner with.

"No, but it'd be even better if you had something warmer than your hand to keep you company," Jason chimed in. I wasn't sure how he managed to get out of this ribbing since he also lived alone. Then again, he had an industrial one-bedroom apartment, not a family home in suburbia. It was as though his home made it known that there was no room in his life for a woman.

"I happen to enjoy my hand. We get along, I rarely have to worry about my hand saying no, and I always have a backup," I stated bluntly, wiggling the fingers on my left hand for effect. We all tipped back our shots and I winced at the burn of the cinnamon whisky on my throat. "Maybe someday I'll change my mind, but for now my life works. Besides, while you all are worrying about what's going on at home, I can keep putting every bit of energy into the game, which is why I'm better than you."

The table erupted in a series of guffaws and playful jabs. It was almost enough to keep me from thinking about the tight knot in my gut, which was the real reason why I'd never considered a steady relations.h.i.+p. Although it was far too early to even think about anything like falling in love with Mason, I could see it happening, and yet I was already denying him to everyone in my life.

Over the past couple of seasons, I had thought about coming out. It wasn't like I'd be the only professional athlete to do so, not with people like Jason Collins, Robbie Rogers and Michael Sam making very public proclamations. Heck, I wouldn't even be the first major league baseball player to try sneaking out of the closet, but his experiences meant I had proof that baseball wasn't the best place for a gay player. Now, I wished for a different reality, one where I didn't have to pretend there wasn't someone waiting for me in a much more comfortable bed than the one I'd fall into later.

Another round of drinks appeared at the table, a gift from a group of fans across the room according to our waitress. This time, she leaned in close to me, rubbing her ample chest against my shoulder as she set down the gla.s.ses. I didn't want to make the situation even more uncomfortable than it already was, but with every round she was becoming more brazen and the situation was about a round away from seriously awkward.

"I think she's sweet on you," Kevin observed as he leaned against the side of our booth. I rolled my eyes, already unimpressed by the way he seemed to invite himself into our tight-knit group. "You guys have room for one more?"

I wanted to tell him no, that the table was full and we even if there was a seat, it wouldn't fit him and his inflated ego, but that'd make me look like the d.i.c.k. Then I'd have to sit down with Stu and listen to a lecture about being a role model for the team when word got back to him. If there was one thing I knew about our coach, it was that he didn't put up with petty bulls.h.i.+t or hazing the new guys. And as one of his go-to players, Stu Ackerman was even harder on me. Whether I wanted the role or not, he made it no secret that he expected me to set a good example for the rest of the team.

"Yeah, sure," I said, leaning forward for the pitcher of beer. I might not be able to tell him he couldn't sit with us, but I'd be d.a.m.ned if I was giving up my seat for him. It was common knowledge that I always sat at the edge because I couldn't stand being crowded. Besides, we'd get more than enough time together after tomorrow when we became roommates.

"Seriously, are you gonna tap that tonight?" Kevin pressed as he helped himself to a gla.s.s of beer. The guy really needed to learn boundaries. He didn't know me well enough to give me s.h.i.+t about my personal life.

"Nope," I responded, my lips popping on the word in an attempt to get him to take the hint. Jason c.o.c.ked one eyebrow, letting me know I was close to crossing the line. I shrugged, feeling just tipsy enough that I didn't care.

I tried begging off, reminding the guys that I had an early morning and that none of us needed to close down the bar since it was an early afternoon game tomorrow. "Come on, Tucker, don't be a punk," Jason teased as he filled my gla.s.s.

I glared at him, p.i.s.sed to be called out in front of everyone. The rest of the guys chimed in and before I knew it, our table was littered with empty shot gla.s.ses. Tomorrow was going to hurt. A lot.

Chapter 6.

"You're opening up too much. You need to work on your balance, otherwise you're not going to turn your year around," my father criticized as Mom served up a late night meal of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I was going to be paying for this weekend's s.h.i.+tty diet all through next week, but it'd be worth it. This meal was Mom's way of trying to cheer me up after a bad game. The team might have won, but I stunk like Limburger cheese. Not pretty. She'd made this meal after every bad game since I was eight, and probably would until I retired.

"I love you, Dad, but do you really think I need you to point out what I fuscrewed up tonight?" We might be in my home, but that didn't mean I didn't regret almost swearing in front of Mom. My parents may be chill about most things, but respect was one area where there was no leniency.

"Yes, son, I do," he informed me. "You know I'm not trying to be over-bearing, but sometimes you get ahead of yourself and don't see what you're doing wrong. I know you have other things on your mind today, but that doesn't mean you can afford to get sloppy."

"Dad, today had nothing to do with anything other than me not sleeping well last night," I told him. Of course, it wasn't looking like tonight was going to be any better. After one night sleeping with Sean's back pressed against my chest, I wasn't looking forward to sleeping alone. My irritation wasn't fair to him since I understood why he was staying at the hotel, but there was that jealous spot in the back of my mind that wanted him to find a way to be here. "It's not unusual for any of us to have a bad day. It happens to everyone, whether you're a baseball player or a computer programmer. The difference is that our bad days are broadcast on national television."

My dad seemed somewhat appeased by the explanation and the table was silent as we all ate. I wondered if either of my parents were going to say anything else, but as soon as they finished eating, Mom cleared the table and the two of them said goodnight.

I grabbed another quick shower, allowing the high-pressure jets to pound into the tight muscles in my back before sliding into bed to read. I found myself rereading the same pa.s.sages over and over because my mind was still trying to process everything that had happened since last night at this time, so I closed the book and turned off the light.

Sitting in the darkness wasn't much better, especially when I reached for the pillow on the other side of the bed and caught a whiff of Sean's cologne. My stomach fluttered and I scolded myself for allowing something so girly to turn me on. Seriously, guys weren't supposed to get hard from smelling another man on their sheets, were they?

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, only to have my cell phone start blowing up what seemed like minutes later. I had three missed calls and a text message from Jason Klein.

Jason: Any chance you're up and want to come help with this situation we seem to have?

That sounded ominous. I clicked the link, which was to a video of Sean in the middle of the dance floor, shaking his a.s.s and trying to get others to join him. The quality of the video wasn't great, but Sean was clearly wasted. He looked sinfully f.u.c.kable in his tight jeans as his hips swayed seductively with the music. I rolled over and saw that it was after three in the morning.

Me: Did you get him to his room yet?

The hotel bar closed at two, so hopefully that meant Sean was pa.s.sed out on his bed. Tomorrow, I'd be sure to order the greasiest, nastiest breakfast possible to pay him back for waking me up.

Jason: Nope. We wound up in Kevin Green's suite. Seriously, he needs to go so the rest of us can sleep. I don't want to leave the two of them alone because they're like oil and water. Add alcohol and it's a recipe for disaster.

Me: Make sure his phone is close and I'll call in a few.

Three and a half hours of sleep was going to make for another s.h.i.+tty day. At best, I'd be able to convince Sean to go to bed and then I'd get about four more hours, which still wasn't enough.

The first time I tried calling Sean, it rang four times before his voicemail picked up, so I hung up and dialed again. "Hey, you," Sean slurred when he answered the phone. "I thought you were going to get some sleep?"

"I was, until a certain someone decided to shake his groove thing out on the dance floor," I responded, trying to hide my amus.e.m.e.nt. Yes, I was still p.i.s.sed, but that didn't mean it wasn't funny to see Sean drunk enough to dance. He was usually the responsible one whenever the guys went out.

"Aww, baby, I'm sorry," he apologized. "Wait, how did you know about that? Are you in the hotel? Oh, my G.o.d, please tell me you're not in the room waiting for me. I'll head back right now."

I didn't respond right away, figuring it'd work to get him out of the suite and into his own room. Sean quickly said his goodbyes and I heard a door slam behind him. I pulled the phone away from my ear when it signaled a new text.

Jason: I don't know what you said to him, but it worked. Thanks. I owe you a drink the next time you're in Milwaukee.

Another door closed and I knew Sean had made it to his room. "Wait, where are you?" he asked, obviously confused.

"I'm at home in bed, Sean," I told him gruffly. "And I would be sleeping, but apparently Klein figures I'm your keeper and he texted me because you were the life of the party tonight."

"That's not fair," he whined. "I left the party because I thought you were here waiting for me."

"I know." I chuckled, wondering if he'd remember any of this in the morning. "And now that you're back in your room, you need to take some Tylenol, chug a bottle of water and get some sleep. Do you have any Gatorade in the room?"

"No, but you could bring me some and then we could go to sleep together," he slurred. "If you bring a change of clothes with you, we could sneak down the fire exit before anyone wakes up." If he thought me sneaking into his hotel room on the team floor in the middle of the night was a good idea, he should've quit drinking long ago.

"Not happening. What I will do is bring some with me when we come to pick you up in the morning." I silently cursed when I realized my alarm was going to go off in less than four hours.

"If you come and get me now, we could go back to your place and sleep until your mom makes breakfast," he suggested. "She's a good woman. Always making sure we're fed."

"I'm not getting dressed and driving down there to pick you up right now," I informed him. He grumbled into the phone and I could almost picture him pouting.

"Baby," he groaned, elongating the word by about four extra syllables. "I wanna see you tonight. Your bed is way better than this one."

"I understand that, but you're drunk and we both need some sleep. I'm going to say goodnight, you're going to say it back, and then I'll call to make sure you're up by eight. Got it?" I wondered how it happened that I was the responsible one for a change.

"No, but I don't think I have a choice, do I?"

"Nope," I agreed with him. "Now, are you laying down?"