Immoral by Nicole Dykes
“Fuck,I’m going to miss you.” I hold Grady’s body to mine in the foyer of my house because we can’t say goodbye in an airport. No. I have to say it behind a closed door.
The bitterness in my gut turns but I try to stay strong for him. “I’m going to miss you too, Grady, but we can get through this.”
“When is the big meeting?”
“Two days.” Jenny sent me a text this morning, reminding me to be good.
There’s been no drama since the day she busted us, and we’ve spent the entire time in our perfect bubble. Fucking and talking. Enjoying every single second of each other. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
This is all I fucking want.
Would I miss baseball if I couldn’t play anymore? Sure.
But this? Letting the man I love go? Yeah, this might fucking kill me.
He looks nervous as he brushes a kiss over my lips and whispers, “I love you.”
My heart aches, clenching tightly in my chest because I know he means it. He’s in love with me just as much as I’m in love with him, and we can’t tell the world because it’s full of too much hatred to accept our love.
“I love you too. God, I love you.”
He kisses me hard, his hands on the sides of my face. “I’ll call you every day.”
I nod in agreement. “You fucking better.”
He smiles. “The contract will go fine. They’d be fucking idiots not to keep you.”
But do I even want that?
I stay tight-lipped and nod, but he doesn’t let it pass. Pulling back so he can look into my eyes and holding onto my face with his big hands, he says, “You were made to play ball. You’re too fucking good at it to let anything else get in the way.”
“You’re not just anything, Grady. You’re everything.”
He smiles, and I can see my admission makes him happy. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. We tell everyone tomorrow . . . I’m fine with that. We keep it our secret until your knees are all creaky, and you can’t be on the catcher’s mound anymore, and I’m a sweating gasping mess every time I’m on stage because I can’t keep up . . . I’m fine with that too.”
“That’s a sexy picture you paint.”
He chuckles, “I fucking love you. And don’t worry about any of this shit. You and me, we’re solid.”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Get the best fucking contract you possibly can. Everything else will fall right into place. You’ll see.”
Same ole Grady. I kiss him hard and then grab his hand “Let’s get your ass to the airport.”
It’s a quiet, solemn ride to the airport, and when it’s time for him to leave, we have to settle for a quick bro-hug because there are cameras watching.
It fucking sucks and doesn’t sit right with me, but he leaves with the promise of so much more in the future.
And for now, that has to be okay.
That is, until later that day when I get a call from Jenny telling me the contract negotiations have been pushed back for another fucking two weeks.
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.
