Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,56

she told me is one of her favorite awards.

“This award is perhaps the highest honor,” she tells the audience, a large, cream-colored envelope in her hand. “It goes to the man or woman who exemplifies giving back. And tonight, I am thrilled to announce that this year’s Best Sportsman award goes to . . .”

She stops to slide a finger under the envelope flap then takes out a card. Beaming with delight, she reads, “Grant Blackwood, catcher for the San Francisco Cougars, who exemplifies sportsmanship with his volunteer efforts for local charities supporting underprivileged young athletes and LGBTQ athletes. Congratulations, Grant.”

Not gonna lie. I clap the hardest and cheer the loudest as the catcher jogs to the stage.

His acceptance speech is brief. “I’ve been lucky. I’ve had a good run. I play with a great team, with guys who have my back. And this?” He holds up the statue. “This is what motivates me every day. So, thank you. All of you.”

Another round of cheers echoes in the ballroom.

Pretty much everyone here is rooting for him.

But I’m the only one who’s seeing him for a not-drink tomorrow, and I kind of feel like I’ve won something too.

The next morning, I head to a café in Pacific Heights to meet Nadia for breakfast, lecturing myself as I push open the door.

Don’t watch the clock the whole time.

I’ve got eight hours to pass before I can see Grant—and maybe his fireplace too, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

Except I do.

I really do.

I grab a table, and Nadia sweeps in a minute later. We hug, order, then catch up as we wait for omelets.

She dives right into relationship talk. Gotta admire someone who gets right to the point. “So, any new men who rock your world?”

If she only knew who rocks my world.

I’m not making any assumptions about tonight, so I can’t say, yes, there’s this guy I’ve never stopped thinking about.

But, in keeping with my efforts to be more open, I give her some of the details. “I’ve kind of been taking a break.”

She jerks her chin back, surprised. “Is there a reason for the break?”

“Just trying to make some changes in my life,” I say.

“Good changes?”

Great changes, I want to say. “Let’s just say if I were a superstitious guy, I’d be wearing lucky socks.” I grin and leave it at that.

Arching a curious brow, she lifts her cinnamon latte, takes a drink, then sets it down. “Wasn’t there once someone special?”

Normally, this is when I’d evade, side-step the question.

But I’m learning not to do that anymore.

“Yes. There was.” The answer is definite. Unqualified. That feels like another small win. “Someone very special. Maybe he will be again.”

The bigger test comes eight hours later when I walk into a tapas bar in Hayes Valley.

Grant Blackwood waits for me in a booth in the back.

The nervous grin on his handsome face says so damn much—because his smile is nervous, but confident too.

All I can think is he has every reason to be confident.

But I’m also going to have to tell him about a promise I made to myself.

25

Grant

Longest day ever.

I didn’t even wake till nine-thirty. Normally, I love days with my grandpa when we kick around the city, go for a run, grab some grub.

Today, I’m distracted as we jog, but I do my best, chatting about a new porch he plans to add to his house.

“What? The porch on the brand-new place I got you isn’t good enough?” I tease.

“No. It’s not. Can you please get me a ten-room mansion next time? Because that’s exactly what we need,” he says drily. Then more seriously, he says, “You know I love the house. I also love to stay busy.”

I keep him busy as we head to the Ferry Building around noon and grab sushi for lunch. But I can barely eat—I’m too wired about tonight.

When we’re done, I walk him to the boat landing and buy him a ticket. He ruffles my hair. “Have fun tonight.”

A flush crawls across my cheeks. “I’ll do my best,” I say, straight-faced.

Then he heads onto the boat, and I walk across the city to burn off more energy and kill another couple of hours.

Once I’m home, I catch up on some Lazy Hammock business on my computer, then I take a long, hot shower.

And jerk off.

Obviously.

Declan could touch my knee tonight and I might come. I’m so goddamn aroused when I’m near him. I’ve got to get an O out of my system