“Almost six. I told your mom that I’d sit in here with you and wake you up when you needed to be,” he informed me with a sly grin on his face.
“And she went for that?” The thought of my mom giving up control was completely out of character.
“Not without a bit of help,” Bryce admitted. “Eric asked her if she’d mind giving him some advice about the flower beds outside. I don’t think she realizes that he’s rarely here and has someone to do all of that for him.”
Thank God for minor miracles. Mom loved her gardens and she’d probably have Eric regretting the suggestion soon. Every year, she got excited about planning which flowers to plant in each bed near the farm house that’d been in our family for five generations. Dad pretended to give her a hard time about it, but as us kids got older, he knew it gave her something to focus on rather than dwelling on the fact that we were independent and didn’t need her for everything.
“Did you wake me earlier?” I didn’t remember anyone waking me, and I couldn’t imagine I wouldn’t remember Bryce being the first person I saw when I woke up.
“No, but don’t tell her that. Maybe it was the wrong call, but you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, so I decided to sit in here in case anything went wrong,” he told me. “If you hadn’t woken up soon, I would have had to but that’s not an issue now, is it?”
Now that I was thinking a bit more clearly and not worrying about how long my recovery was going to be, I was still confused by Bryce’s presence. We’d talked on the phone a few times over the past three weeks and texted almost daily, and he hadn’t once mentioned that he was going to be back in Milwaukee. In fact, the messages had dwindled to one a day over the past week or so. Part of that was my fault because I’d been more concerned with the playoffs, but there’d been time for him to let me know he was coming back to town.
“Why are you here?” I asked. I didn’t have the energy to be polite.
“Do you mean here as in Wisconsin or here as in sitting next to your bed?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“All of the above.” I tried reaching for the water bottle next to my bed and Bryce grabbed it for me. God, it was going to drive me batshit crazy if everyone acted as if I couldn’t even do the simplest tasks without help. It might take me a bit longer to do things until my ribs healed, but I was still a grown man capable of caring for myself. Regardless, Bryce was only trying to be nice, so I didn’t bitch him out. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bryce stood and turned his chair so we were facing one another. “When I got back to Portland after my last trip, the founder was even more concerned than he had been originally. He asked me if there was anything that’d keep me from relocating temporarily to take a more hands-on approach to turning around the center. So, here I am.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I sounded bitchy, but I didn’t care. I was under the assumption that we’d both had a good time the one night we spent together and wanted to do it again. Maybe do more than just hang out and have dinner.
He shrugged. “You were busy. It’d always been my intention to call you once you were done for the season, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be so soon.”
“You and me both,” I scoffed. “You could have mentioned it, even in passing.”
“I could have, but I didn’t. And that doesn’t matter right now,” he scolded me. “I sent you a message this morning, and Jason called to tell me what happened. I was going to come up and see you, but Jason thought it’d be better if I waited until you got home. After we hung up, I thought it might be a bad time to drop in on you, but I figured Jason wouldn’t have suggested it if he didn’t think it’d help.”
“I’m glad you did,” I admitted. “I hate that I’m laid up in bed, but it’s good to see you. Now, tell me what’s going on with the center.”
Bryce’s brow furrowed as he told me how grossly mismanaged the center had been for a long time. Hearing him talk about the kids who lived at the center and might be back on the streets if circumstances didn’t change churned something in my gut. I felt closer to the situation today than I had the first time we’d talked, probably because I was sitting in the comfort of my home nursing the wounds many of them had suffered as well. Although not everyone who knew I was gay was supportive, last night was the first time I’d truly feared for my life because of who I was attracted to.
I wanted to do something to help. I didn’t want to waste my winter sitting around the house, only leaving to work out so I was in top form when I got on the plane for spring training. Even though my wounds would take time to heal, I knew how lucky I was. I had a roof over my head, money in the bank to pay for my medical bills, and even though I knew they’d drive me crazy soon, I had friends and family supporting me through my recovery.
“If you want, I could come down and help you.” I shifted higher on my pillows and turned off the television. The more I thought about it, the more it sounded like a stupid idea. I didn’t have anything to offer, and I’d probably be more of a distraction than anything. Besides, those kids didn’t need another person in their lives who was going to bail within a few months.
“You can get better. I appreciate you wanting to help, but right now, I think you’re better off focusing on yourself.”
I pounded my uncasted fist into the mattress. This was exactly the bullshit I wasn’t looking forward to. Even though I doubted it’d be worthwhile for me to volunteer at the center, it pissed me off that he used my injuries as an excuse. There had to be something I could do. It’s not like I was trying to suggest I start running drills with the kids. That wasn’t the type of help they needed. They needed what most of us take for granted: security.
“Don’t do that shit, Bryce,” I warned him. “I’m going to have enough people coddling me without you doing it as well. I want to do something. I’m going to go out of my fucking mind if I’m not allowed to do anything other than sit around the house all day.”
Bryce reached up and ran his hand down my arm. I swallowed hard, hating how good his touch felt. Although we weren’t close, he was familiar to me. He knew better than to placate me with words. His eyes met mine and I offered him a slight smile as our fingers met. We sat there a moment, both of us staring down at our linked hands. This felt like the excitement I’d heard people talk about when they realized they were with the person who’d eventually be someone special in their lives.
“Okay.” That was all he said, but I hoped that meant I’d gotten through to him and he wasn’t going to try playing nursemaid. His hand slid out of mine as he stood and I immediately missed the warmth of his skin on mine. “I’m going to get something to eat. Would you like something?”
“God yes.” The last time I’d eaten a real meal was before yesterday’s game, which seemed like a lifetime ago. I’d appreciated Eric getting me something this morning, but it seemed like the toast made me even hungrier. And then everyone kept telling me I needed to wait to make sure it didn’t make me sick, and I was left ravenous again.
As Bryce walked out of the room, I allowed myself to think about what it’d be like having someone I was interested in so close for a while. It’d been easy to keep from getting involved with anyone since I’d always put my focus on baseball, but Bryce was making me realize what a lonely existence that had been.
Chapter 6
I was beat by the time Drew’s mom finally decided it was safe for her to go to bed. I sat down on the sofa in the great room and turned on the TV but quickly realized that wasn’t a good idea. The light and sound echoing off the high ceilings would keep Drew’s parents awake, so I hit the power button, collected a few snacks and headed toward the basement.