Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Because her coach is just working on letting kids at this age have fun and get a feel for the sport,” I chime in. “Besides, maybe she’s picking those dandelions for you, because you finally made it to a game, did you ever think of that?”
She huffs, and Steve shoots me an affronted look. “Hey, I’ve been to every single game so far.”
I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I know you have, Steve-o. Every tap class of Tati’s too. They notice and appreciate it, man.”
Sarah glowers at me, but hey, I’m just stating facts here. She hasn’t been to one of Terra’s games yet. Odd, considering she has been to all the same dance classes of Tati’s. Something tells me her absence is because of the coach she in no way sneers about still. Hashtag sarcasm.
Christ, and I was the one who needed to grow the hell up.
You know what? To hell with that. I’m finding out if we can rectify this peacefully right now.
“So, about game night tonight… Is it okay if Gordy tags along?” I probably should have consulted with him first, but I know he hasn’t got a shift at the bar tonight, and the temptation to skip out on spending time with Sarah and Steve without him is too tempting.
I wouldn’t, for the girls, but still…
“Sure,” Steve says, shrugging casually, at the same time Sarah balks, “Absolutely not!”
Steve rears back, giving Sarah a disparaging look. “Why not?”
“Because!” she huffs.
“Becauuuse…?” Steve drawls.
“They’re—they’re a couple!” she gestures to me, then at Gordy, who is minding his own business, coaching first base.
First of all, Gordy and I aren’t officially a couple.
As much as I’d like to, I still don’t think he’s ready to put that label on us yet, and I’m not about to rush him either.
Secondly, how the hell does she know that?
We’re always so careful to keep it platonic around the girls.
The few people who know Gordy and I have been more than just good friends aren’t the type to fan the flames of gossip around here either.
“So?” Steve asks her. “So what if they’re friends or a couple, does that in any way mean we can’t be cordial?”
She scoffs. “I’m very cordial! We have social gatherings at our house all the time! I just showed a house to Trista-Lynn, Gordy’s ex-wife, not too long ago. She said she’s seen them, I don’t know, making out behind the pub or something.”
Fuckin’ A. The one time I dropped Gordy off at work, because his truck was in the shop, and I dared to steal a kiss out in the open.
There had to be someone watching, didn’t there?
Well screw me sideways for that being Trista-fuckin’-Lynn.
Before you know it, all of Ternbay will know, because that kiss was the day before yesterday.
Shiiiiit, shit shit. I gotta warn Gordy. I’ve got to see where he’s at with this—with us—because I don’t want Evan to find out through the grapevine.
“Are you opposed to letting your girls see what a same-sex relationship looks like, then?” Steve presses Sarah.
“What?!” she yelps. “Absolutely not! I’m not homophobic. That’s not what this is about, so don’t turn this into me looking like a bad guy here!”
“Hey, uh, do you mind keeping your voices down?” I cut in. “This is a kids’ t-ball game here…”
“Sorry,” Steve apologizes to me, then lowers his tone to her. “Then what is it, Sarah? Why would we not allow Gordy to come to game night? He’s wonderful with the girls, and they adore him!”
You know that look someone gets when they’re so mad that you genuinely become concerned that they might actually rip your throat out? Yeah, that’s the one Sarah Babcock has right now. I would not want to light a match near that stick of dynamite right now.
“Oh my god,” Steve rears back, huffing out a humorless laugh. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? The reason you’ve got this grudge against Gord—”
“Don’t, Steven,” she cuts him off, her tone dark as midnight. If I were to title a book based on the color of her face right now, it’d be called Sixty-Nine Shades of Red, a sure tell that he is indeed right. Deep inside? She’s totally fuckin’ green. With envy. Not, like, fungus.
I suck in a deep breath and turn away, covering my smirk with my palm.
I will not act like a child. I will not laugh at the fact that she’s jealous over me and Gordy.
I will remain the pillar of maturity here.
Oh, the fucking irony, though. Back around Christmas, the shoe was on a totally different foot!
Now, here we are in May, and I’m well and truly moved on.
After taking a minute to compose myself, I interrupt their little squabble.
“Hey, um, so the game just ended, by the way. I’m just gonna go, uh, pry Tati off the swings so we can treat the team to some ice cream.
I’ll send ‘em your way after.You folks have fun sorting out your business, and let me know if you want Gordy and I to swing by later, mmkay?”
“I think it’d be best if we cancel for tonight,” Steve sighs. “It appears that Sarah and I have some issues we need to work out.”
“Sure thing,” I hum, clapping him on the shoulder. “Best of luck, bub. See ya after dance on Tuesday for the swap-off.”
“What was that all about, with you, Sarah, and Steve?” Gordy asks, after I’ve shored up my tab with the little league snack shack, and a dozen rambunctious tykes are getting all hopped up on sugar and sent on their merry ways.
“Figured out why Sarah regards you with all the approachability of a hissing cockroach. Well, actually Steve did.” I chuckle. “He called her right out on it too. I fuckin’ love that guy.”
Gordy’s brow arches. “The one who puts pennies in his loafers?”
“Yeah, you know what? Turns out those pennies were from his grandfather. He told Steve to hold onto them, in case he ever needed a couple wishes granted, or something like that. I dunno, it was something sentimental, anyway…”
Gordy blinks at me.
“But yeah, they were bickering about—get this—Sarah being jealous. Ha! Isn’t that fuckin’ hilarious? She’s jealous that we’re togeth—” I cut myself off before I get the whole word out. “Uh, ninety percent roommates…Who enjoy sexy-time frequently…”
Gordy’s jaw ticks. “And how would she know what we do behind closed doors?”
“Well, so she doesn’t. But she does think we’re a couple. Crazy, right?”
“Did the girls tell her that?”
“No. So, um, you remember how I thought the coast was clear when we got a little carried away back behind the bar the other day? Apparently, it wasn’t.”
“Who saw?”
“Trista-Lynn,” I confess.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans, scrubbing his hand down his face, ending with a forceful tug at the end of his beard. “You might as well run that in the town paper, as much as she’ll blab about it.”
“I know,” I agree, dipping my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he murmurs. “I was just as much of a participant in that kiss as you. I’ve just, fuck, I’ve gotten used to this safe little bubble we’ve been in.”
I nod. “If you’re not comfortable, or whatever, with everyone finding out then we probably ought to keep our distance for a little bit.
Just to, I don’t know, let the inevitable rumors die down.
Spend some time alone for a while, or something…
” Every bit of that suggestion guts me to say out loud, but I have to offer it.
I’d never forgive myself if I forced a relationship on him that he’s not ready for—if he’ll ever be ready for it.
It has to be on his terms. He’s the captain of this ship. Gordy spent his entire life—from childhood right on through young-adulthood—living in a dictatorship of both his father and his mind’s own construct. He has more than earned his right to take back control of his life now.
When I glance back up at him, he looks stricken.
He grabs a fistful of my shirt, hauling me back behind the field maintenance shed, out of view from the departing families.
“Wee-Waters, I hate feeding into this narrative that you have where you think you’re stupid, but that is the dumbest goddamn thing I think I have ever heard come out of your mouth.
No, I do not want to put distance between you and I, unless that’s something you want. ”
I shake my head. “God, no, Gordy. That’s the last thing I want, you’ve got to know that. Christ, I want you with me all the time!” I protest. “I know you go back to your apartment sometimes because you’re overwhelmed, but damn, Gordy, I fuckin’ miss the shit out of you when you go.”
I’ve gotten pretty good at interpreting his expressions, I think, but right now, I can’t quite get a read on the look he’s giving me. It's a cross between awe and bewilderment, I believe.
Regardless, I continue confessing, “I miss the feeling of you crawling into bed with me at night. I hate leaving you to go to work in the morning. I look forward to all the little times we get with each other. It’s not even just about the sex either; we could be beating the snot out of one another at the gym and I’m still just as happy.
Fuck, I—I…” I trail off, too worked-up to finish my thought, before he cups my cheeks with both his hands and mashes his lips to mine in a bruising kiss.
“I fuckin’ love you,” he breathlessly murmurs on my lips when we come up for air, finishing that thought for me. “So, no. Let me be clear about this, Gannett. I reject your offer of putting fuckin’ distance between us.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that,” I whisper, smirking. “Could you maybe repeat what you just said?”
He scowls at me. “I said I loathe that plan, and I’m not going to fold on this over the threat of Trista-Lynn and her gossiping.”
“The other part.” I nip at his lower lip.
“You clearly heard me the first time I fuckin’ said it,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, well, I was about to, but then you kissed me. If it weren’t for that, I would have beat you to it.”
Gordy takes a step back, chuckling. “I’ve had you beat for a couple weeks now, Gannett.” He lifts up the side of his shirt, showing me his uncovered, now fully-healed tattoo—the lighthouse Colton etched onto his left ribcage.
My brows knit. “What do you mean?”
“You. I got this for you, to symbolize what you mean to me. I was too chickenshit to tell you then, but I figured the timing would eventually be right, so I got something inked permanently on myself to show you just how much you mean to me while I worked up the courage. You have been a bright light over these last few months—steadfast and strong—unwavering in your ability to guide me towards safe harbor. You have given me hope and guidance in my times of darkness. Gannett Waters, I love you.”
I try to choke down the knot in my throat, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Goddamn, isn’t that the absolute sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, and how the hell did that ever come out of the mouth of Gordy Masterson?
“Hey, coach?” I rasp.
“What?”
I tip my chin over to the adjacent ball field at the high school. “I don’t know as I can wait until we get back to my place to show you just how much I love you. You remember how I told you I earned the title of Ternbay Middle School’s best kisser under there?”
He nods.
“Why don’t we take a stroll over and see if I’ve picked up any new skills since then?”
“Out in public?”
I shrug. “We’re apparently going to get caught either way, might as well give them more than a kiss behind a bar to talk about. Besides, you don’t think I scoped those things out to know where all the proper hidey holes are?”
Gordy skeptically scrubs his hand down his beard. “Fuck, Gannett. How do I let you talk me into this shit?”
I smirk, stepping in close and whispering in his ear. “Because you love me.” Then, I nibble my way down his neck, grinding my body against his.
He growls, and in one fell swoop, he hoists me over his shoulder—like I’m no heavier than a sack of potatoes—and hauls me off to those bleachers.