Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,30
me.”
Another beat. “Are you asking me on a date? Or to fuck? Or for coffee? Or pool with the guys?”
I pace along the window. I can’t sit still even as I blindly swing at pitches, hoping to connect. “I’m asking for you. Just you. Just to talk. I want to explain what happened in the spring. All the things I didn’t explain the night I called you, like why I sent that text. Can we just get dinner or a drink or something?”
Hell, I sound ridiculously desperate.
But that’s how I feel.
“You don’t drink.”
“We can get a not-drink,” I say, pushing out a slight laugh.
“A not-drink,” he repeats, seeming amused by that word.
My God, can he just put me out of my misery? “After the awards—I’ll be at the event. But we can meet up someplace afterward if that works for you.”
More footsteps echo, like he’s walking even farther away from the house. “Listen, Deck,” he says, using that shortened name that makes my heart want to fling itself at him. “I want to say yes. I really do. But I do not want to wake up to a text from you cancelling at the last minute.”
It’s like he knocked me on the jaw, but I deserve it. “That’s fair. But I promise you I won’t.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m sure,” I say, hoping my tone makes it clear how much I mean it.
He sighs. “Okay. I guess I’ll save your number again.”
“You don’t have it saved already?”
“I deleted it,” he says, matter-of-factly.
That makes sense except for one detail. “But you’ve picked up each time I’ve called.”
He laughs lightly. “What can I say? Resisting you was never my strong suit.”
Not gonna lie—that makes me smile. “Good. I’ll see you next week. I’ll text you a location.”
“Someplace private,” he adds. “If we’re seen together afterward, just you and me, you know how it’ll go. There’ll be rumors and gossip. It’ll be distracting. Nobody will talk anymore about how we play baseball.”
With the year he’s been having and the attention he’s been getting, both on the field and off it with his causes and activism, he’s spot-on about that.
There is one place private, though.
I swing for the fences. “I swear I’m not thinking about the bedroom. I’m just thinking about privacy. But do you want to come over here? To my place?”
He’s silent for several long seconds that last forever. In the span of his silence, I fear a no coming my way. That he’ll shoot me down entirely. But instead, he says, “Yes. That’s probably for the best.”
The second the call ends, I text him my address and a time. He writes back that he’ll be here.
Then I prepare to wait the seven interminable days until Grant returns to New York City.
And, I hope, to me.
15
Grant
As soon as I end the call with Declan, the screen door creaks open and my grandpa ambles out.
“You eavesdropping, old man?”
He shrugs but gives a devilish smile. “Was there something good to overhear? I hadn’t noticed.”
He strides to the porch swing and gingerly sits on it. “Be careful when you sit,” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “I can handle a swing, kid.”
“We’ll see,” I say, joining him.
“Trust me. I’ll be running again soon.”
“Your doctor hasn’t cleared you for that. Maybe in a few months we can get you to a 5K.”
“I’ll be doing a 5K next weekend,” he says, leaning into the salty old man vibe. But it’s probably true. His PT is going great, and he’s been improving.
He tips his forehead to the phone in my hand. “So, was that you-know-who?”
I arch a curious brow. “How could you tell?”
My grandfather points to my face. “This look you get.”
I roll my eyes, all over the top. “That look?”
He shakes his head, laughing. “No, smart aleck. Your faraway, dreamy look.”
I scoff. “Please. I don’t have a faraway, dreamy look,” I say, but it’s a futile denial. I know it. He knows it.
“You can’t fool me.”
The thing is, I’m glad I can’t put anything over on him. I don’t want to fool him.
I let out a long breath, scrub my hands along my jeans, my heart tripping along double time as I think about seeing my ex. “Declan wants to talk when I go to New York next week for the awards.”
Grandpa nods a few times, maybe processing that I’ve named him for the first time—the guy I fell for in spring training. “And do you want to talk?”