Chapter 13
Alfie closed the trunk of Rhys’s car, a triumphant grin on his face. “Knew I’d left them behind.”
“I completely forgot about those. When did you throw them in my trunk?”
“We went hiking, and you claimed they were too muddy to be in your car. You made me throw them in the trunk.”
Rhys wrinkled his nose, and Alfie wanted to kiss it. An urge he needed to repress. He should pull back, despite how good it felt to wake up with his arms around Rhys. Too good. He could not let himself get comfortable. Just when he thought it would be fine, things would fall apart.
It happened every time, and then another friendship was ruined.
He knocked the dried mud from the boots and slipped them on. No socks, but it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d done that. It wouldn’t be for that long. Just to get into this coffee shop Rhys swore was like heaven.
Alfie cast a glance toward it, but it didn’t stand out as impressive to him. Like almost every shop along this street. He hoped the inside would prove him wrong. Maybe they could at least add some spice to his coffee. Something to take his mind off kissing Rhys again.
That was not going to be simple. Rhys paused at the door, looking at him, an eager expression on his face.
Alfie had heard their second baseman, Nik Ruiz, refer to Rhys as a Golden Retriever before, and Alfie hadn’t understood it.
Rhys was not a dog, his penchant for going on the prowl notwithstanding.
But, one time Alfie’s sister’s girlfriend’s cousin brought two big, goofy dogs to a picnic and Alfie finally understood the reference.
It didn’t help that Rhys had been on the ground, rolling around with the dogs. Alfie thought his heart might explode from what he’d been feeling in that moment. Now Rhys had that same look on his face.
“I didn’t think you liked coffee this much,” Alfie said.
“That’s because you didn’t taste the drink the barista mixed up for me. It was the only good thing to come out of yesterday.”
Which shouldn’t have felt like taking a line drive right to the chest. “The only good thing?” he asked, but Rhys was already heading into the coffee shop.
Alfie puffed out his cheeks then released a breath, sucking them back in. Rhys was being dramatic. He hadn’t meant to hurt Alfie with that comment.
It didn’t change the sting of it. Alfie followed Rhys inside. He could not let this ruin their friendship. No matter what else it cost him.
When he got inside, Rhys was shifting from one foot to the other while he waited in line.
Alfie did not know what had come over his best friend.
Rhys had never acted this antsy for coffee.
There were times he completely went without it.
He’d seen Rhys crouch behind home plate for an entire inning, only moving enough to catch the ball and throw it to the pitcher.
What was going on with him? Alfie didn’t think a busy coffee shop was exactly the place to ask.
Rhys didn’t look over at him as they moved a little closer to the counter. His gaze seemed to be pinned on the menu hanging above it.
“They have Venezuelan coffee,” Rhys said, though he didn’t look over at Alfie. “It’ll be like going home, without, you know, that full day plane trip.”
“Nothing is like going home except going home,” Alfie said. Rhys had never gone with him. Even though Alfie offered to help him make sure he had everything together for his passport. He refused, saying he’d take care of it.
Except he never did. Maybe Rhys did not truly want to meet his family.
It wasn’t the plane trip. He took a flight to get to Florida and back for spring training.
In the short time he’d been on the bench for the Pittsburgh Steel Suns the previous season, he’d taken more than one plane trip. So, it was not a fear of flying.
Maybe he didn’t truly want to meet the rest of Alfie’s family, even if he was fond of Rosalita. She was hard not to be fond of.
He could never bring himself to push Rhys for that.
Even if he did not speak of his childhood, he got decidedly uncomfortable whenever family was brought up.
Much the way he’d been acting the last couple days.
As far as Alfie knew, Rhys wasn’t in contact with any family members.
He did know he’d spent time in foster homes. Would he consider them family?
“So, you decided to come back. I take it the drink didn’t turn you off.”
Alfie glanced up at the person who had spoken.
They stood several inches shorter than him, just a little shorter than Rhys, as well.
They had one hand on their hip as they looked at Rhys.
What had he done this time? Their dark brown hair was cut short on one side, the other side falling over their face, with purple streaks which seemed to be placed randomly through it.
“I loved the drink,” Rhys said. “The fruitier the better. Right, Alfie.”
Alfie pressed a hand to his face. He knew that tone.
“Your friend doesn’t seem to agree.”
Alfie lowered his hand and looked at the person who had been speaking to Rhys, who Rhys had been flirting with. Their gaze was on Alfie now, and he wasn’t sure how to read it. Did they think he had a problem with Rhys’s… tastes? He did understand the connotation the term fruity could have.
“I do not mind fruit,” Alfie said, “as long as it is one I am familiar with.”
Rhys nudged Alfie’s hip with his own. “Me, on the other hand, I’ll take whatever fruit I can get.”
Rhys was taking this metaphor way too far. Alfie thought he caught the barista biting one corner of their lip. “I’ll take a medium Venezuelan coffee.” Alfie flicked his eyes toward Rhys for a moment. “I have run out of the stash Mami sent with me last time. Someone has been helping himself to it.”
Rhys let out a soft whistle and when Alfie let himself look again, Rhys was pointedly not looking at him. Alfie felt his mouth tick up. As if he wouldn’t know it had been Rhys pinching some of the coffee his mother sent along with him when he was home during the offseason. Who else?
“And for you?” the barista asked, a little too sweetly as they looked at Rhys.
“I would love that fruity blast again. I don’t see it on the menu. It didn’t even make me want to sleep.”
“I put like a double shot of espresso in that drink,” the barista said.
“I was sure I would want to curl up behind home plate and take a nap. But, nope. Didn’t happen.”
The barista stared at him, but Alfie didn’t blame them for not knowing what to say. Sometimes Alfie did not know what to say to the words that could come pouring out of Rhys’s mouth. “You do know I mixed that up on the fly, to try to throw you off?”
“Because you thought I was a homophobic asshole whose masculinity is too fragile to drink something with fruity in the name. Yeah, I got that. I might have bullshitted my way through college, but contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t… I can make it for you again.”
Rhys gave a sharp nod then walked to the end of the counter, looking out the window. “Lo siento.” When they stared at him, he said, “I’m sorry. He does not usually—”
They held up a hand. “I knew what you said, just not why you felt you owed me an apology. I was in the wrong. I’ll get your drinks ready.”
Alfie turned to go over to Rhys. A loud squeal from the other side of the coffee shop stopped him. He wasn’t sure he could make out all the words that came out together. Alfie glanced over at Rhys. Sounded familiar.
“Denny, will you calm down before you give yourself a stroke?”
Alfie looked at the barista, but their words hadn’t prepared him to have a teenager launch themself at him. Then past him to Rhys.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe you came back.
I saw you yesterday but I didn’t realize it was you until you were already leaving and my older sibling is a traitor and couldn’t tell me they knew you or anything, but you’re here again.
Oh my god. Do you think you can sign my hat?
I watch every game. Well, the ones that aren’t blacked out. Or aren’t during school, of course.”
“Of course.” Rhys took the hat from the teenager’s hand and patted his pocket a few times.
Alfie slipped a hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a marker. Rhys shot him a grin. “Always prepared. One thing I love about you.”
Alfie rolled his eyes even as those words dug deep into his chest. Rhys never said them seriously. No matter how much Alfie wished that was the case.
“Denny,” the barista said sharply. “You aren’t supposed to bother customers, no matter who they are.”
“You do know who I am. I’m honored.” Rhys signed the hat and handed it over to Alfie.
“I’m not so sure you should be.”
Rhys shrugged one shoulder at the barista’s words, but Alfie was watching him.
He saw the flinch Rhys tried to hide. Alfie wished he didn’t do that.
Pretend like nothing ever bothered him. He knew exactly what Rhys would say if he brought it up.
Alfie handed the hat back to the teenager and reached for the coffee the barista set on the counter.
“Gracias.” He turned to Rhys. “We need to get to the clubhouse.”