Sweet Spot: Homeruns #4 (22 page)

“It’s so good to meet you,” she cooed. “I’ve heard so much about you from both Nick and Marcus that I feel as if I already know you.”

I cocked my head to the side and glanced over to my dad, who simply shrugged. “What can I say? Cody’s been a miracle worker with our social media presence this year. The entire marketing team loves him because he got me to see what a huge opportunity we were missing.”

“It really wasn’t that much,” Cody said, downplaying what he’d accomplished.

“No, it was,” Dad argued. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had an intern who’s been ambitious enough to go above and beyond. And even some of our most senior staff won’t stand up to management and tell us we’re out of touch with the future of our fan base.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “You really said that?” I sputtered, trying to reconcile the formerly soft-spoken man I’d met my rookie year with the one standing in front of me.

“Maybe not in those words,” Cody admitted meekly. “But yeah. I’m lucky they didn’t kick my ass out that day.”

“No way,” Dad responded vehemently. “That was impressive. You have a bright future ahead of you, son.”

Cody flinched at the term. I hadn’t told my parents much about his childhood. To ease his mind, I took Cody’s hand and led him to the table. Once we were sitting, I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “He didn’t mean anything by it. But I think he likes you.”

“I know,” Cody responded. “I like them, too. It’s just hard. You’re pretty damn lucky.”

“Believe me, I know,” I assured him.

We broke apart and looked up to find both of my parents watching us. It was a blessing my sister, Katie, wasn’t there. No doubt she’d have been giving us a hard time for looking way too cute while she was trying to eat. She was a pain in the ass who always said shit at the worst possible time, but I wished she was there with us. “Where’s Katie?”

“She’ll be over before lunch,” Mom told me. Weird.

We were almost done eating when someone rang the doorbell. Dad nearly knocked over his chair as he got up to answer the door. “I’ll be right back.”

It was obvious I wasn’t the only one who noticed his sprint to the door. The room was awkwardly silent as we waited for him to return. He’d been acting weird all morning.

Voices carried through the house, but not clearly enough to figure out who was stopping by. Mom offered me a soft smile as I reached out to Cody. Something was going on, and I was beginning to wonder if I was the only one in the dark. The voices got closer and I turned to see Stu Ackerman standing next to my father at the entrance to the dining room. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I looked back to Cody. He shrugged and jerked his head to the side, urging me to get up and say hello.

“Good morning, Mr. Ackerman,” I greeted him, more formally than I had ever spoken to him in my life. He’d been to the house plenty of times and he’d always been Stu. But that was when my future wasn’t hanging in the balance.

“Relax, Nick.” He chuckled and took a seat next to my father. It was then that I noticed Dad hadn’t sat at the head of the table like he normally did. He studied me as I sat back down next to Cody. This time, I didn’t reach out to him for comfort. Stu had no issues with gay players, but it was still something I didn’t want to flaunt. Not now, at least.

“Nick,” my dad began. He paused to take a sip of his orange juice. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Stu over this morning.”

“Why would I mind?” I asked.

“Because you don’t like being treated differently from the rest of the players,” Stu answered. “And I hope you understand how much I respect you for that. A lot of kids are looking for whatever leg up they can find in the business, so it’s refreshing to see someone as independent as you.”

“Frustrating is more like it,” Dad muttered under his breath. He flinched, Mom smiled, and it only took a second to realize she’d kicked him under the table. Stu laughed again. “What? It’s the truth.”

Stu nodded. “Yes, I suppose from your perspective it would be. But I think I’m a bit more objective in this case. I don’t want punks out on the field. I don’t like having to babysit the boys in the clubhouse. Nick’s insistence on making it on his own has proven I won’t have issues with him.”

My stomach flipped and I tried to not get excited. This was just like all the other times coaches praised me. It didn’t mean anything.

“Nick, you’re not getting on the plane tomorrow to go back to Pennsylvania,” Stu blurted out. Cody dug his fingers into my thigh when he noticed I’d quit breathing. I was afraid to exhale, scared this was a dream. Surely, he couldn’t mean what I thought he did.

“I’m finally moving up to Dubuque?” I asked.

Stu laughed. “Normally, that would be the progression, but no.”

“I’m not following,” I admitted.

“Nick, we need you in the bullpen,” Stu said. He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. “With Alvarado out for the season, we’re in a tough spot. Typically, we’d have moved a player from Dubuque to the pen, but everyone knows you were only dropped down because of the technicalities of the roster.”

“Sir, as much as I appreciate the opportunity, I don’t want to be fast-tracked.” I wished Cody would reach over and clamp his hand over my mouth. I was a fucking idiot to try and talk Stu out of this.

“See, that’s what I was talking about,” Stu pointed out. “I also see what Marcus meant about it being frustrating. You’re only being fast-tracked because we need you. I’ve spent the past two days poring over stats. We’re having a good year and I need to make sure it stays that way. That’s why we’re moving you up. Some might claim you have better stats than our Triple-A starters because you’re up against less experienced hitters. When your name was mentioned, I actually shared that assumption.”

“Then why do you think I could possibly be ready?” I questioned him. My mother stared at me pointedly and I wondered if she’d be the one to shut me down before I made a total ass of myself. I grimaced and pursed my lips to keep from saying anything else.

“I looked at some of the film we have of you,” Stu told me. “I talked to the pitching staff from all three teams. And all of them agreed you’re the best man for the job.”

Holy fuck. I had to be dreaming. If I opened my eyes, I’d be in Cody’s bedroom in the pitch black. That was the only explanation. Shit like this just didn’t happen.

“Can you even do that?” I asked. “I mean, I’m totally stoked you have so much faith in me, but I’m not on the forty. Don’t you have to move someone up who’s already on the roster?”

“Yes, we do,” Stu confirmed. “But with Alvarado being out for the rest of the season, we are down to thirty-nine on the roster. I have the paperwork in the car and I’ve already faxed a copy to your agent for him to look over. If you want, why don’t you go and call him to make sure everything is in order. Once you’ve signed, you’ll be on the forty and we can get you officially to Milwaukee by tomorrow. Your first start won’t be for a few days, so you’ll have time to get acclimated.”

I wanted to tell him I’d sign right then and there. Dad wouldn’t have put together a contract that would screw me over. My agent knew that as well. Still, I’d call him and make sure, because that was the way it was supposed to be done.

Cody told me he’d wait with my parents and Stu while I made the call. I wanted him there with me, but I relented. This was something I needed to do on my own. It turned out, I wasn’t alone because my dad followed me into the living room. When I reached for my phone, he stopped me.

“You’re not upset, are you?” he asked. “Stu came to me and told me this was what he wanted to do. I remembered how upset you were the day you were drafted, which is why I wanted Stu to come over,” he explained. “I don’t want you thinking this is because anyone’s doing me a favor.”

“I don’t, Dad,” I assured him. This was possibly the first major moment in my life I believed he didn’t have a hand in. Before, I’d always assumed I’d gotten opportunities because of him, but seeing the raw emotion on his face, I knew he was the proud father right now, not the Mavericks’ GM. “And I’m glad you were here when I found out.”

“Me too, son.” We hugged tighter than we ever had in my life. “I’m so damn proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” This definitely made up for him being an epic cock block this morning. Now, I couldn’t wait to get home and celebrate.

I
looked
up to the stadium lights and reminded myself to breathe. My arm felt good. Jason and I were in sync with one another. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

“Hey, I gotta get out there, but you’ve got this,” Jason reassured me. He squeezed my shoulder and stared at me long enough it should’ve been uncomfortable. He was waiting for me to acknowledge him in some way. I nodded, unable to form words. “Just breathe and don’t overthink it. You’ve been doing this your whole damn life.”

Sure I had. Because playing in the Bigs, in front of forty thousand people, was almost the same as playing to the empty stands in the minors. I couldn’t think about that or I’d lose my dinner.

Jason slapped my ass and ran out of the bullpen for the first pitch and the traditional pregame pitches with local little league kids.

“Come on, man. Let’s keep you warm,” Ortiz said, pulling me out of my own head. I needed that. When we’d been in the minors together, he’d told me his job was part athlete, part shrink. He was the one who sent the pitchers out to the mound warmed up and focused on what needed to be done. And he was damn good at his job.

I tuned out the starting lineup announcements. The noise of the crowd swelled louder as each player’s name was announced and his image and stats were displayed on the Jumbotron high above my head. I hoped Cody took a picture of my name and stats because no way in hell was I going to be the awestruck rookie.

Following the anthem, Ortiz popped up and walked me to the fence. “You got this, kid.”

Everyone kept saying that, but I felt more out of control than I ever had in my life. I tried to ignore the rolling of my stomach as I stepped out of the bullpen. This was it: the day I’d been working toward my entire life. I was a major league baseball player. Now, I just had to figure out how to stay here.

I ran through the scouting report in my mind, trying to tune out the fans who’d packed the stands. I’d known there would be more fans here than I was used to in the minors, but I’d seriously underestimated how many tickets a few winning seasons could sell.

Cody was out there somewhere, probably shoved up against the third base line, camera concealing his face. I shook my head when I started thinking about him. There was no time for distractions now. I had a damn job to do.

It took for fucking ever to get to the mound. With every step, I repeated the advice Sean had given me last night on the phone.
One pitch at a time. Nothing matters but the man standing sixty feet in front of you. Focus on him.

Those words apparently fled as soon as the game was underway. My first fucking game in the majors and I walked the first batter in five pitches. The next hit a double into the hole between left and center. It was only because of my teammates that there was only one run on the scoreboard by the time we left the field.

The second inning wasn’t any better. Walked the first, singled the next two to load the fucking bases. I was all over the place, trying to throw the pitches a report said would work rather than the ones I’d mastered.

“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep that up,” Stu scolded me while I waited to go out for the third inning. “Next inning, play with your gut. Watch the hitter and trust your catcher. Klein has a hell of a lot more experience with these guys than you do. Trust him. Do what he says, unless you want to walk out of here with egg on your face.”

“Yes, sir,” I responded. I kicked my feet through the sunset shells littering the dugout floor. Nothing he said was a revelation to me, but I hadn’t been doing any of it.

“I’ll tell you again,” Jason offered when he sat down next to me after striking out. “You need to chill. No one expects you to throw a perfect game tonight. First starts are always the worst. The key is to make sure you’re not digging yourself a hole you’ll never get out of.”

“Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” I scoffed. “Because I have to tell you, if it is, you suck.”

“I could blow sunshine up your ass all night, but that’s not going to save this game,” Jason retorted. “I’d much rather get it through your thick skull that you don’t have to be perfect. You’re the only one with unrealistic expectations for yourself. Now, let’s go out there and turn this train around.”

The third inning was better. Not stellar, but by listening to Jason, I managed to keep anyone else from scoring on me.

By the fourth inning, I was feeling pretty damn good. Three up, three down. There was a bounce in my step that hadn’t been there before. I could do this. I wasn’t about to make a fool of everyone who’d taken a chance on me.

Unfortunately, it fell apart again in the fifth. Stu and Jason came out to the mound for the second time and my big league debut was over. I hung my head low as I sat at the end of the bench watching Clint play cleanup. He did the best he could, but two more runs crossed the plate before the third out.

“You did good, Stone,” Clint told me when he reached the dugout. “You may not think so, but you were solid out there. A lot of guys can’t even make it to four their first night out.”

“Sure as fuck doesn’t feel that way,” I sulked as I threw my glove to the ground. “I was about as rank as last week’s laundry out there.”

“Do yourself a favor,” Clint suggested. “Head down and get your arm in some ice. Otherwise you’re going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine,” I groaned. The rest of the team offered words of encouragement as I made my way to the tunnel.

I expected the clubhouse to be empty when I threw the door open. Everyone was watching the game, so I could throw my tantrum in private and get my shit together before the end of the game.

“What’d the door ever do to you?” my father asked, startling me. I looked up to see him kicked back on one of the leather sofas in the center of the room.

“You here to make sure I don’t tear apart your shit?” I asked. He didn’t deserve my attitude, but he was sure as hell getting it. He’d rarely been there when I’d had an outing this shitty.

“No, I’m here to make sure my son doesn’t beat himself up,” Dad responded calmly. “It was one game. The key is for you to listen when you meet with the pitching staff, learn everything you can, and then apply it next time.”

“Maybe you guys made a mistake.” Admitting I might not be ready for the Bigs hurt.

“No, I think Stu made the right call,” he argued. “Your problem is nerves. It’s the same thing that plagues just about every player the first time they step out under the lights and see more people in the stands than they’re used to seeing in a month. You’ll adjust. Hell, if it makes you feel better, go take a look at my stats from my rookie year.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed. I couldn’t remember a time when Marcus Stone wasn’t a household name. He may not have been Ken Griffey Junior, but he was still really damn good.

“Like I said, take a look,” he repeated. “The good news is you’ve gotten it out of your system.”

“So you’re not upset?” Now that I wasn’t overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the game, this was what upset me the most. I was terrified I’d disappoint my dad.

He patted the cushion next to him. I pointed to my shoulder and he stood to follow me to the training room. Clint was right. I needed ice ASAP.

We were quiet while I waited for the trainer to get done wrapping ice packs on my shoulder and elbow. Dad followed me back to the clubhouse and we sat to watch the end of the game together.

“Nick, I’ve had a lot of great days in my life,” he said, still watching the game on the big-screen television above the lockers. “The day I married your mom, the days you and Katie were born, the day I signed my first big league contract, my first start…”

I began to tune him out as he rattled off all the highlights of his life. It wasn’t really helping my mood. “…Other than your birthdays and my anniversary, today will go down as one of the best days of my life.”

I actually flinched when I looked up and he was on the verge of tears. “Wow…that’s…” I stammered. My dad was a man who believed in words more than actions, so his admission had me ready to break down right along with him. “Even better than when the Bulldogs won the NLCS?”

“That was a good day for sure,” he said wistfully. “But that pales in comparison to getting to sit up there and watch my son in his first major league start. You’ve worked your ass off for this and I’m proud of you for not giving up.”

Fuck. If he kept up, I was going to be a blubbering mess by the time the team came off the field. The shutter release on Cody’s camera clicked behind me and I straightened, wiping my eyes dry before I turned around.

“Hey you,” Cody greeted me softly. “I didn’t realize you had company down here.”

“It’s okay, Cody. I should get back up there to watch the rest of the game,” Dad said as he stood. “I just wanted to come down and make sure Nick knew he did good out there tonight. Rookie starts are the worst.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I stood and hugged him as tight as I could without getting his suit wet from the melting ice. There were no words to describe how much it meant to me to share that moment with him.

Cody stood off to the side until my dad left the room. Then, he sat down at the end of the couch and held out his arm for me to sit next to him. As I settled into his side, I realized what a huge moment this was, not only for me but for baseball in general. Just a few years ago, it would’ve been impossible for me to be out and still play, but there I was, sitting with my boyfriend in the clubhouse watching the end of the game.

“So, how long before the clubhouse fills up?” Cody asked as we snuggled on the couch. He tugged at the hem of my T-shirt and slid his fingers along my stomach. I groaned, wishing we were anywhere but here.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you need to stop,” I warned him. I tried to bat his hand away, but that only seemed to encourage him. He slid his hand higher and started playing with my nipples. I arched into his touch, knowing this was dangerous. Although it’d be over an hour before the game ended, there was no telling when Clint might get pulled from the game or the clubbies might come in to get everything ready for the post game. “Cody…”

He leaned forward and latched his teeth into the side of my neck. “I’m trying to make you forget. I hate seeing you upset.”

“Upset about what?” I asked. I knew what he meant, but he’d keep going if he thought it was working. It was ridiculous, but after spending so much of the season away from Cody, I didn’t want to waste a single minute. He pushed me forward and shifted so his leg was stretched across the couch. I settled back against his chest and tried to focus on the game. It looked like there was still a chance they might rally back for the win.

“How long do you have to stay after the game?” Cody whispered as he continued nibbling his way from my shoulder to my ear.

“At least through the press conference,” I told him. My voice was rougher than normal, a sure sign of what Cody was doing to my body. “I still don’t know why I have to be there.”

“Face it, babe, you’re the hot story of the day,” he teased. I sure as fuck didn’t feel as if I’d done anything to earn the attention, but he was right. Not only was the media eager to get their first chance to interrogate me, but everyone was already having a field day with the human interest story created by me being called up to the Mavericks. Everyone wanted to know how it worked to have father and son in the same organization.

“You sure we can’t just sneak out now?” I’d get my ass handed to me, but it might be worth it. I hadn’t been eager to take part in the post-game press conference when it was first mentioned to me. Now that I’d had a less-than-stellar outing, I flat-out dreaded having to face the vultures in the pressroom.

“No,” Cody chuckled. “For one thing, it’d make you look like a petulant rookie. For another, I’d likely get canned for being an accessory to your disappearing act. Remember, I am part of the media team. It’d look bad. No one would hire me out of fear that I’d help others flee rather than forcing them to face the press. You wouldn’t want to ruin my career before it gets started, would you?”

I turned my head to press my lips to Cody’s chest. “You’re really laying it on thick. You know that, right?”

“Is it working?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is.” I sighed. Cody was the one person who could get away with that type of shit and not make me feel as though he was trying to manipulate me.

“Good, because I’m tired of talking.” Cody’s right hand drifted down my stomach, his fingers just barely dipping beneath the waistband of the shorts I’d changed into after I was pulled from the game.

“Cody…” I hissed as his hand cupped my semi-hard cock. I moaned and canted my hips, even as a stream of feeble protests escaped my lips. “We can’t…don’t stop…oh, fuck…”

“Just close your eyes,” he urged me. My head fell back against his shoulder as he kept stroking me. “Don’t think about anything except how hard you’re going to come for me.”

A quick glance at the screen showed the game was already in the bottom of the seventh. If I let him keep going, the clubhouse was going to smell like a brothel. The clubbies would be coming in soon. Oh, fuck. Cody’s thumb trailed through my slit and then around the flared head of my cock. He knew what that—

“Shit boys, you couldn’t even wait until you got to the parking lot?” The top of my head clipped Cody in the chin as I jumped up. Clint’s eyes went directly to my tented shorts and I spun around to face the wall. “Aww, don’t get bashful on me now, Stone. Someone might as well get some.”

“I…we…why aren’t you out there?” I stammered. It was a relatively new habit; one I’d like to figure out how to get rid of. Fuck. I couldn’t think straight.

“Yeah, Stu pulled me. Christensen is a better closer,” he said matter-of-factly. “For future reference, if the starter gets pulled before the sixth, it’s almost a guarantee Stu will call him in to close. That means you won’t have privacy in this non-private place.”

“Uh, thanks.” I wanted to see how Cody was handling us being caught, but I couldn’t. My face was still hot and I knew it was bright red. I was going to kill him for thinking this was a bright idea. “You’re not going to say anything, are you?”