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“Kiss my ass, Beecham,” I said softly in deference to the kids around us.
Abe leaned in until his hot breath ghosted over my ear. “Gladly.”
I turned my head and looked at my best friend. His expression held a carnal promise that made me swallow hard. If I gave him the word, Abe would take me home, yank down my pants, and bury his face between my ass cheeks. I could practically feel his hot breath against my quivering pucker. His tongue would swirl and tease the rim before pushing in. Lust gripped my balls and squeezed. God, I wanted him so bad.
“Now I really need to hear this story,” Russ quipped, jerking me back to reality and saving me from breaking my own heart. I blinked away the fantasy, and Abe’s lips curled into a proud, wolfish smile. Unaware of the tension arcing between Abe and me, Russ continued chatting. “I knew you and Beecham went way back, Lio, but it sounds like there’s more to it than I realized.”
Few people knew the full story because I was stingy when it came to Abe. Our relationship had been fueled by variations of hate and love for three decades, but there had never been a right time to explore whether those feelings could develop into something more profound. My heart wanted to sayuntil now, but my brain knew better than to get my hopes up. Abe and I had both drawn lines in the sand, and neither showed signs of relenting.
Alex continued to talk to Clint for a few minutes, then hugged the boy loosely. The pitcher was smiling when Alex walked away to join his team. A few kids tried to pat him on the helmet, but Alex ducked and pointed to his head.
Alyssa leaned her head against my arm. “We raised a good boy.”
“Yes, we did.”
The four of us waited until Alex’s coaches had a final chat with the team before turning them loose. Alex didn’t run to us like he usually would, and I worried the hit had rattled him more than we realized.
“How you doing, slugger?” Abe said, putting a beefy arm around Alex’s shoulders.
“I’m okay,” he said, wrapping his arm around Abe’s waist. It had been love at first sight for both of them. Abe, a man who’d sworn he didn’t want to have kids, had fallen hard for newborn Alex, who’d stared raptly at the giant who’d cradled him tenderly in his arms. Their bond had grown from their first meeting, and Alex had bypassed Alyssa and me a few times to take his troubles to Uncle Abe, an honorary title my best friend cherished. “I feel bad for Clint, though.”
Abe nodded and said, “I hope his coach and parents can boost him up a bit. I’m proud of you for taking the high road and trying to make him feel better about his mistake.”
“Thanks, Abe.” I’d recently noticed Alex had dropped the uncle part, but I hadn’t brought it up. The oversight didn’t seem to bother my best friend, and honestly, my dirty thoughts about Abe made me cringe internally whenever the kid referred to him as his uncle. Whose brother was he supposed to be? Alyssa’s or mine? Neither option made me feel good about my boner-inducing fantasies.
Alex looked over at me with a crooked grin identical to mine. Everything about my son’s physical appearance was a younger version of me, including the cowlick only a military buzz cut could tame. “Are you disappointed I didn’t charge the mound like you did when Abe hit you with a pitch?” Alex asked.
Russ, who’d been walking with Alyssa a few feet in front of us, stopped suddenly and spun around. “Now I’ve got to hear this story.”
“Over pizza,” Alyssa said, tugging his hand.
Russ playfully stomped his foot. “But I don’t wanna.”
“Trust me, Russ,” Alex said. “It’s worth the wait.”
The Pizza Joint was jamming with what looked like the entire baseball team. It took us forever to get to our table, not because one wasn’t available but because everyone wanted to check in on Alex, who downplayed the incident and seemed uncomfortable with the praise people heaped on him for being a good sport. He politely thanked everyone and responded that it had just felt like the right thing to do.
“Our boy is humble,” Alyssa said.
“He gets that from you,” we both said at once.
I chuckled and shook my head. “Me? Humility isn’t an adjective I’d use to describe myself.”
“That’s what a modest person would say,” my ex-wife countered. “Bragging about being humble is an oxymoron, don’t you think?”
I tilted my head to concede. “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”
“A person can be confident and humble simultaneously,” Abe added. I looked over and quirked a brow, and he snorted. “Not me. I’m cocky as all get out.” If he were walking in front of me, I’d see the swagger in his stride and the set of his broad-as-a-barn shoulders.
“Well, at least you’re honest.”
He winked. “Comes with the name.” The truth was, Abe was honest with everyone but himself, which was why I kept him squarely in the friend zone and not in the zone where we’d fuck until we went blind.
Once we finally made it to the table and placed our pizza and drink orders, Russ leaned his elbow on the table and dropped his chin onto the heel of his palm. “No more excuses. Tell me the story.”
“The year was 1994,” I began. Russ groaned, knowing I was going to string this out, and settled more comfortably in his chair.
“Maybe I should get a beer,” he said to Alyssa.
