Immoral

by Nicole Dykes

  God. Damn. It.

  When Grady texts me that he’s landed and is in his hotel room, I immediately call him. He answers right away. “Hey, miss me that much already?”

  Yes. “How was your flight?” I try, but my voice is shaky, and it must alert him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t bother being coy. “Two more weeks, Grady. They pushed the negotiations back for two more fucking weeks. My future continues to hang in the balance.”

  “Well. Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” I lean my head back against the couch, wishing like hell he was here, sitting next to me instead of a thousand miles away.”

  “It’ll be okay, Ry.” He sighs, and I hear his uncertainty.

  “Jenny thinks it’s because of Bennett.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  I haven’t talked to him since the party, which is pretty shitty considering he’s been the closest thing I’ve had to a best friend the last few years. “No.”

  “You should.”

  I smile, trying to make the conversation lighter even though I feel like shit. “I’ve been kind of busy.”

  He laughs, and I miss the hell out of that laugh, out of this man. “Yeah well, I’m not going to apologize for that, but you should go talk to him.”

  “I can’t fault him for wanting what his wife wants to make her happy.”

  I can hear him smiling. “You should still talk to him. Maybe you could even tell him—”

  I cut him off, “I don’t know if I can do that.” I sigh. “Maybe I should take my chances with another team.”

  “You love it there.” I do. It’s what I know, but maybe I’m ready for a change.

  “I think I could love it somewhere else. Maybe I can find somewhere I can be open and free, Grady. We both know, contract or not, it probably won’t go over so well in middle America.”

  “Fuck that shit. If you lock in a contract, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

  He says it, but I’m not sure even he believes it. We know how the world works. How, if the fans aren’t happy, the owners can find a way around any contract. “Yeah.”

  It’s all I can manage to say. All I want is him here and in my arms when I feel so unsteady and out of control, but at least I have him on the phone.

  At least I know, without a doubt, that no matter where he is in the world, he’s mine.

  And yeah, that’s more than enough for me.

  “Well holy shit, I was sure you were done with my ass.” Bennett’s smile is vibrant as he opens the door to his home and lets me inside. I decided Grady was right and I needed to talk to my friend and teammate.

  So, after a couple of days of sulking, I gave him a call and asked if we could get together. He, of course, told me to come on over.

  “Where’s the wife?” I ask, caring about his wife as much as him. She’s always been so fucking kind to me, and I do want her to be happy.

  “She went baby stuff shopping with her mom. Come on in.” He directs me to his man cave downstairs where he has a pool table, several recliners, and a big screen television with baseball highlights already on.

  I laugh as I take a seat. “I can’t believe she lets you have this place.”

  He chuckles. “Hey, she gets to decorate the rest of the house however she wants. I get to have this one thing.”

  I laugh again, and I realize I’ve missed Bennett. He’s easygoing and always reminded me of Grady in some ways. The 100 percent platonic type of ways. Never once did I pine after my teammate.

  “So, what’s up?” He takes a seat in the chair next to mine, and I decide to just grow a pair and say what’s on my mind.

  “You may not want to stay in KC, from what I hear.”

  He looks slightly guilty now, and I feel like an asshole. He deserves happiness. Who am I to take that away from anyone else? Especially knowing the sting of never quite getting what I want. He rubs the back of his neck, a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I should have told you.”

  “So, it’s true? You’ve been trying to negotiate with other teams?”

  “Quietly. They were supposed to do it quietly and not let KC know about it, but of course, some jackass let it slip.”

  I try not to feel hurt. “But you didn’t tell me?”

  “I’m sorry, Ry. I really am. I don’t even know what I want at this point.” He looks stressed, and I know that feeling, so I stop him before he can say anything else.

  “You want your wife to be happy. You want her to be able to be around her family when your kid is born. I get that.”

  He looks almost relieved. “I should have known you would. Still, I hate the idea of leaving behind the fans who have supported us this whole time. And you.”

  “Aw, you’re going to miss me?” I kid, but he nods his head seriously.

  “Yeah. We’re a good team.” His lanky shoulder shrugs. “Maybe we could still be a package deal somewhere on the West Coast?”

  My heart flips, thinking about being on the same coast as Grady, but I also feel sick about leaving this town behind. “I don’t know. It might be too late for all that.”

  “I’m not sure. Will you just think about it?”

  I see the hope in his eyes, and fuck, I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him I’m gay and in love with my best friend. That might not be so bad for me, but I can’t. I can’t get my mouth to say the words.

  “You never know.”

  He smiles and then grabs us both a beer, settling into an easy afternoon, like old times.

  When I get home that night, I video call Grady, and when he answers the phone and I see his face with that goddamn grin on it, everything feels right again. “Hey.”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  I force a smile and lean back into the couch I’m sitting on. “I went to Bennett’s today.”

  I can’t see much behind him, but I think he’s on a hotel bed. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt, and that’s all the detail I can see. “How did that go?”

  “I couldn’t tell him about me.”

  He doesn’t look disappointed. “Is that why you went there?”

  I shrug, holding the phone up and focusing on him. “I don’t know. I wanted to talk to him about the contract, but I thought maybe I could finally tell him.”

  “So, why didn’t you?”

  I’m not ashamed of being gay, not in the slightest. I’m proud of who I am. And it may seem like I’m ashamed the way I’ve had to hide it, but if I didn’t play baseball for a living, I’d, without a doubt, definitely be out and proud. “I couldn’t make him keep that secret for me.”

  He smiles and nods his head in understanding. “So, not because you think he would act differently?”

  “No. I think he would be fine with it, but keeping this secret . . . it’s a lot to ask of anyone.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Too fucking much. You shouldn’t have to keep it a secret.”

  There he goes, getting all protective. “Tell me about your concert last night.”

  “It was good. Full crowd. Receptive. But I fucking missed you.”

  That should make me smile, but all I feel is melancholy because I fucking miss him too. “I hate this.”

  “Hey, I was thinking. You have two more free weeks, right? You wanna come hang out with me on tour?”

  “For two weeks?”

  He runs a hand through his thick hair, looking adorably nervous. “Or a week. Or a couple of days. I don’t know. I’d kill for any time with you.”

  Now, I’m smiling like an idiot. “Yeah. Where to next?”

  “I fly into Philly tomorrow.”

  “I’ll buy a ticket tonight.”

  His smile, beaming and excited, full of lust and love. And yeah, that’s enough to make everything okay.

  This is ridiculous.

  He’s here, and I can’t contain myself, but I know I have to reel it in. “Hey.” I give him a half-bro-type hug when I want to kiss the fuck out of him. It’s o
nly been a few days, but my entire body is thrumming with excitement to see him.

  He’s in jeans and a plain tee with a baseball cap pulled low. “Hi.”

  I release him and step back much sooner than I want to. “Where to?”

  “My hotel to check in.” I try not to let my face fall, but he notices instantly, keeping his voice low. “Relax, I’m staying in your bed tonight. But in case anyone checks, I have my own room.”

  I smile and nod, noting there at least five people with cameras aimed our way. “Okay, sounds good.”

  I lead him to the car, both of us climbing in the back, and I direct the driver where to go. He checks into his room at the front desk, and then we go up to the room, deciding not to let it be a total waste.

  When the door closes behind us, we don’t lose anytime, undressing in record time and letting our clothes fall wherever. We don’t make it to the bed, though, kissing and grinding against each other, his back pressed against the wall.

  “Fuck, I missed you.”

  I moan against his mouth, having missed his body being pressed against mine. “I missed you too. So goddamn much.”

  How the hell are we going to make it for six more months? When he can’t get away like this? I try to shake that thought from my head. I’d rather think we can always find time to sneak away for each other.

  His hand grasps my hard cock, stroking it, and when I do the same to him, his head meets the wall, tilting back and exposing his throat. I take full advantage, sucking and biting along the column. “I’m not going to last.”

  “We have plenty of time later.” My hand moves faster, loving the feel of him in my grip. When he pushes my hand away from him, using his spit to lubricate his hand and wrapping it around both of us, I thrust against him, bracing myself on the wall with both hands.

  “Fuck, Ry.”

  “Come with me, Grady.”

  It doesn’t take long before we’re both exploding with ecstasy, cum spilling over his hand and both of us groaning with spent desire. “Jesus. Fuck. I really, really missed you,” I say with a smile that makes him laugh and then kiss me.

  “I missed you too, asshole.”

  “Apparently.” We both take a shower in the hotel bathroom that isn’t anywhere near the luxury of his house, but it gets the job done.

  When we’re both cleaned and dressed again, we’re ready to head out for dinner when his phone rings. He checks it and curses, “Shit. It’s my mom.”

  I take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Better answer it.”

  He sighs and takes a seat next to me, answering it and putting it on speaker phone. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, sweetie. What are you up to?”

  I offer him a wicked grin, challenging him to answer that honestly after what we just did, and he shakes his head with a laugh. “Hanging with Grady.”

  “Grady Bell?” She sounds so excited.

  “Yeah, the one and only.”

  I greet her, “Hey, Mrs. Bailey.”

  “Oh, sweetie! How are you? We’ve missed seeing you around town. I’m so happy you and Ryan are friends again.”

  I see the shame on his face, and I don’t like it. I don’t let him get by with it for long. We were both responsible for our time apart. “Me too, Mrs. Bailey. He’s not getting rid of me this time.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that! How are you these days? I’ve asked your father about you a couple of times. But you know him, he doesn’t say much.” I cringe at the thought of my father.

  “Yeah, sounds like him. I’m fine, thank you.”

  Ryan gives me a cautious look, knowing how much my father bothers me, but his mother either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care and continues, “Well, I’m sure he’s extremely proud of you like we are of Ryan.”

  Right, except for ignoring the fact that he’s gay. Ry gives me a pleading look, and I comply, keeping my mouth shut even if it grates on me. “Right.”

  She switches her focus to Ryan. “Ryan, we heard the contract negotiations have been pushed back. What happened?”

  Fuck. My plan was to keep his mind off that shit this week.

  “It’ll be fine, Mom.”

  “Oh, honey, I hope so.” I can see the stress rolling off Ry in waves now, and I’m pissed because I just worked really hard to relieve his tension. Not that it was a hardship. “You just have to stay here.”

  “Yeah, that’s the plan.” He sounds resigned.

  “But if not, you know someone will want him, and they’ll be the luckiest team in the world.” I add, trying to get her to shut up.

  It doesn’t work. “No. There’s no other team for Ryan. He needs to be here. Near his family and in the town that loves him.”

  The town that makes him hide who he really is.

  I’m pretty sure I’m tasting blood from biting my tongue so damn hard.

  “It’ll be fine, Mom. I’ll call you when I know more, okay?”

  “Okay, sweetie. I’ll pray for you. We love you.”

  “Love you too. Tell Dad hi.”

  They hang up, and Ry lies flat on his back, covering his face with his hand, the phone next to him on the bed.

  “You okay?” I lie down next to him.

  “I’m fine. Should have known it would be news that my contract is in danger.”

  “Yeah well, they’d be fucking stupid to let you go. You just won the World Series, Ry. You have a pretty big bargaining chip.”

  “Not without Bennett. Not for the price we’re trying for.”

  I don’t think he’s that concerned about the money, but no doubt, Jenny and his team are going for the biggest payout possible. And the more he gets now, the better for retirement. “It’ll work out.”

  “I hope so. I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

  I find his neck with my lips. “I know what I want.”

  He laughs, and surprisingly, it sounds easy and free. So damn beautiful. “We need to eat. And I’m pretty sure you have a sound check to get to.”

  “Eh, fuck ’em. I can be late.”

  He sits up, shaking his head. “No way. You’re not letting your fans down because of me.”

  “I’d do anything for you.” I sit up and kiss him. He indulges me, letting me kiss him softly for a while, but then pushes me back before I can take it any further.

  “I know you would, but you’re forgetting I’m a fan too, and I don’t want to miss this show.”

  “Fine.” We stand up and head out to dinner together.

  But we keep our distance the whole time, and it fucking guts me.

  Grady was worried I’d be bored with the sound check and all the setup before the concert, but he’s insane. Watching him sing and play the guitar is one of my favorite things. Always has been. I still remember when we were twelve and he’d pick up his guitar, making up songs and playing classics.

  It always made me smile. He’s self-taught, something anyone could know from watching his interviews, but no one else actually got to watch the process of him learning.

  Except me.

  Now, I’m standing backstage next to Waylon watching Grady warm up the crowd. Telling them thank you for being here and how grateful he is to have them all. And I know, without a doubt, it’s all genuine.

  As long as I can remember, we both wanted out of our small hometown. We both had big dreams of becoming rich and famous, but mostly it was the escape we wanted. Away from small-minded people.

  He wanted away from his dad in general, but I wanted a way out of watching my dad struggle. He’s a damn good welder and never once complained about providing for his family. Still, over the years, I saw him die slowly inside, watching his beloved game of baseball while his own dreams faded. But then, his faded dreams blossomed into dreams for me.

  I love baseball but not like my dad does.

  I try not to think about the phone call with my mother and how afraid she sounded at the possibility of me not being re-signed. I try not to let it turn in my gut. The decision between making m
y dad proud—living his dream of playing for KC—and my own dreams.

  Dreams with Grady.

  My best friend. The guy I spent all my time with until I was barely eighteen. Who I laughed with and even occasionally shed tears around. The one who knew all my fears and dreams even before I did.

  I know deep down what I want, but I don’t know if I can face it just yet. I don’t know if I can handle disappointing my father, a man who gave everything up for me.

  I watch as Grady crosses the stage, not to grab his guitar like I expected, but to sit at a piano in the corner. “What is he doing?” I lean into Waylon.

  Waylon just smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometimes he starts the show with a cover.”

  I watch the band behind him look to Grady for his cue, seemingly not knowing what he’s about to play, but it doesn’t matter.

  From the first note, the recognition hits them, and I feel a tingle run through my body, knowing the song instantly.

  “He’s not.”

  “He totally is.” Waylon smiles as Grady breaks into a flawless cover of the Queen song, “Love of my Life.” And the motherfucker is aiming his thoughtful and heated gaze backstage.

  To right where I’m standing.

  His fingers glide along the keys as his beautiful voice sings every word, full of emotion and meaning. Directing the lyrics at me. Although the entire crowd probably feels it’s being sung to them because he has that ability.

  If anyone could see me, we’d be busted in a moment. Because I can’t look away. My eyes are locked on him, listening to every single word and note being played. I feel it throughout my entire being.

  When the song ends, Grady goes back to the middle of the stage as the crowd erupts, and he grabs his guitar, getting ready for the actual set. I try like hell to regain my wits as I listen to the songs he’s written.

  About halfway through, I see Waylon texting with someone, then laughing slyly as he puts his phone back in his pocket, and I have to ask, “Someone special?”

  “You could say that.” He shrugs, but his grin is all sorts of fuckery. “Jenny is pretty damn special.”