perfect for it, and damn, kid, I watched you on Smack Talk the other day. You’ve got a face for TV and a voice for radio. Ever think about heading that direction?”
“Nah.” I rotate my cup and then lift it, swirling the contents in the bottom. “That’s not me.”
“Well, you’ve gotta do something.” Lou’s voice is a little bit louder now. “You can’t sit around all the time wasting away. Write a book and go on a tour, coach a Little League team, hell, coach in the majors. You know, you could be an actor if you don’t like live television.”
Smirking, I shake my head. “I’ll leave the acting to Matteo.”
“Fair enough.” Lou exhales, eyes bugging out of his head as he blows a heavy, coffee-scented breath across the table. “Anyway, your future’s still bright, kid. Just wanted to come here and remind you of that.”
“Thanks, Lou.”
“Find a way to do what you love, even if you ain’t pitching balls no more,” he adds. “Follow your heart.” Lou stands, tipping back the last of his coffee. “I gotta go now, kid. You keep in touch. I want to meet this girl sometime, all right? Be good to her. Don’t screw it up because she makes you happy. I can tell. And if you say she doesn’t exist, you’re full of shit. I’ve known you a long time, Ace. I see clear through you.”
He pats me on the back, giving my good shoulder a squeeze, and yanks a dusty baseball cap from his back pocket, securing it on his head before he leaves.
Walking home a few minutes later, I think about texting Aidy. We spent Friday evening together, and she stayed over. Saturday she met with a few clients, and then we met at Finnegan’s for pizza with Wren and Enzo and Chauncey.
I should leave her alone for a day.
As much as I want to spend every waking second of every day with her, I don’t want to push her away. I don’t want to lose her. I’ve done that before. I’ve loved someone so intensely it scared them, it pushed them away.
I refuse to do that to her.
So we’ll take things slow, one deliciously enjoyable day at a time, and see what happens.
Thirty
Aidy
* * *
Twenty-two.
The number of times I’ve had sex with Ace since our first official date.
Eighteen.
The number of times I’ve stayed the night at his house since our first official date, so basically every other night.
Seven.
The number of real dates we’ve been on now. Real, get-all-dolled-up, dinner and a night on the town type of dates. Hand holding. Door holding. The works.
Three.
The number of times I’ve caught myself daydreaming about a future with this man, which is completely ridiculous because I’ve never been one to fantasize about the ring and the dress and the house and being tied to one man for the rest of my life.
One hundred.
The likelihood that I’m one hundred percent obsessed with Alessio ‘Ace’ Amato.
I ring his doorbell on a Friday night, takeout in hand. We have five more episodes of season three of our old West ghost show to watch, and we’ve had this Friday night in planned for a couple of weeks now.
Ace answers with a towel wrapped around his waist and a smile in his eyes. God forbid he smiles with his mouth once in a while.
“Hey,” he says, opening the door and leaning in to steal a kiss.
I think he’s my boyfriend now.
But I don’t know for sure.
We’ve been on several dates now. We screw like rabbits. And he doesn’t seem to get annoyed when I respond to all of his text messages within seconds because I’m too impatient to play games with him.
He knows I like him.
I tell him all the time, dropping hints every chance I get and doing sweet little things that I know he appreciates, like not complaining when he wants to watch some stupid action movie and trying really, really hard to learn more about baseball because despite the fact that he pretends like he’s over it, I know the love of the game is still there.
Plus I told him all about Wren’s surprise pregnancy and how the wedding got moved up, and he didn’t even flinch when I asked if he’d be my date to Wren and Chauncey’s friends-and-family reception at Luciana’s on Fifth.
Anyway, Ace does plenty of sweet things for me. He’s sent me flowers a few times, always a different arrangement, never predictable. And he bought me a toothbrush to keep at