Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,41
halfway, Deck. When I’m with you, that is all I want. You are all I want,” I say, baring my soul to him. “And trust me, that’s not something I ever thought would happen to me. My parents didn’t even want me, so wanting another person like this makes no sense. And yet I do. I want to say fuck the world and be with you.”
“Say it,” he whispers desperately. “I want to be here with you, here for you.”
“I know you believe that, but the thing is, we’re strong in different ways. You know how to have baseball and protect yourself. You’ve had to do it since you were a kid. That’s your skill—you can focus on the game when the world around you goes to hell. And me . . . If you’ll let me, I can support you in whatever way you need while you deal with your family. That’s my strength. But the flip side is, I don’t know if I can keep my shit together on the field if I’m with you. I don’t know if I can focus on my job when I’m this caught up. I don’t know if I could get through heartbreak a second time.”
Declan shakes his head. “I don’t want to break your heart.”
“But you can’t promise you won’t,” I say, and he sighs, maybe knowing I’m right. “And I don’t know how to have both. I don’t know how to feel the way I do when I’m with you”— I grab at my shirt like I’m clutching my heart—“and to have the game, as well. I’m too afraid of what will happen when baseball starts again because I think I could be lost in you.” This time I reach for his face, hold him hard. “If I spend the off-season with you like I want to, I think I would fall so far in love with you I’d never come out.”
His sigh is laced with pain and regret, tinged with this wild longing too.
“I’d give everything to you,” I say. “I’d never love baseball the way I need to.” I hear desperation in my voice and can’t help it. “And I need to, Deck. Not just for me, but also for this.” I let go of him to gesture to my phone on the table.
He frowns in confusion. “Your phone?”
I shake my head. “Social media. I’ve got queer kids reaching out to me. Gay teens telling me their story. Athletes coming out for the first time. It’s insane and awesome and inspiring.” I sound impassioned, like I’m giving a speech, maybe because I am. “I don’t want to fail them. I don’t want to be a one-hit wonder. I know I’m not the only gay pro athlete, but I’m loud and I’m vocal, and I talk about LGBTQ issues online. Rights, equality, all of that.”
I have to take a breath before I can go on, speaking more gently but intently too. “I am so damned grateful you paved this path, Deck. You and other gay athletes. But I’m walking it now too, in a way that means something to me—doing work, speaking up, being a voice. And I want to matter outside of myself. I want to represent something to others. I want to succeed at the highest level to show the world that a gay guy can play ball just as well as a straight one. I want to be remembered for how I played, not just who I loved.”
He nods as he listens, inhaling deeply, exhaling heavily, resigned. “It’s love or baseball.”
I shrug helplessly. “Yeah, it is.”
“And you’re choosing baseball.”
“I can’t choose anything else,” I say, trying to get him to understand.
Declan’s dark eyes shine as he swallows roughly. He shakes his head and grabs my hand, squeezing it. “You don’t have to explain,” he says, with potholes of emotion in his voice. “I understand. I don’t like it”—he draws a deep, hard breath like he needs it to finish without choking up—“but I respect it. I get it, and I get you. Completely.”
I hate that I’ve hurt him even as he accepts the decision. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t make this decision.
Neither one of us says anything for a while. Maybe there’s nothing more to say. Finally, I rise, grab my phone, and head to the door.
Declan follows me, standing nearby as I put on my shoes and grab my jacket. He looks like he just lost the World Series. I bet I look