Page 67 of Switch Pitching

Without anything more to say, I place my hand on the small of James’s back and nudge him forward. “Come on. Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

I lead James out of the clinic to his car and ease him into the passenger seat. Neither of us know what to say, so silence fills the space. After adjusting my seat and buckling in, I turn to James who looks like he’s about to pass out.

I say the only thing I can think of. “You’re gonna be okay.”

It’s generic, I know. James gives me another weak smile, then looks away again.

The car blinks to life with a soft whir and a couple electronic chimes. The post-game traffic has disappeared by now, so the short drive back to our apartment is smooth, letting the vast silence weigh down on us for the entire four minutes. Once we arrive, James jumps out of the car as soon as I turn the car off, making a beeline for the elevator. I can tell that James just wants to crash, so I rush to plug the car in and follow him into the elevator before he has to wait any longer.

As soon as we reach our floor, James sidles past me without a word, climbs the stairs, and goes straight into our bedroom.

It isn’t clear if I should give him space or make myself available, so I walk over and sit beside him to offer a few more desperate words of encouragement.

“You know,” I start, searching for the right words, “Blake’s right. You’ll heal and get back on the mound before you know it.”

James doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at his wrapped hand. “Yeah, but what if I don’t? What if this screws up everything?”

“You’re one of the best pitchers in the league. An injury isn’t gonna change that. You’ll get through this. Besides, you’re ambidextrous. If your left hand takes a little longer to heal, so be it. You still have your right.”

He releases a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ve never been hurt like this before, Ethan.”

I reach out and place my hands on his. James’s skin is warm and soft, and I can feel him relax. “You don’t have to deal with it alone, James. I’m here.”

“Thanks,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Making sure to avoid his injuries, I lean over James and place a gentle kiss on his lips. He sighs, a lot harder than he usually does, and tries to push up into me. That isn’t successful, given that neither of his arms can hold much weight at all, so I place a hand behind his head and pull him in.

“Are you still gonna sleep here tonight?” James asks, his eyes averted.

“Not in the bed. I’ll end up rolling over and crushing something.”

James opens his mouth to say something, but he stops himself. I walk back over to the bed and sit on the edge.

“I’m not sleeping in the bed, but I’ll stay here with you,” I offer. James’s mood lightens a bit, even as I settle into the armchair across from the bed. He lies back, staring up at the ceiling, and I can tell that he’s tired but still unable to fall asleep.

There’s nothing I can say to take away the sting of what he’s going through. He’s terrified. I get it. It’s not about missing a few games; it’s about watching the rest of us play while he’s left behind, if only temporarily.

“You okay for now?” I ask softly, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t answer right away and gives me this small, almost imperceptible smile. “I will be,” he says, without much confidence.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

James’s eyes flicker shut, and it seems like he’s drifting off. The air is still, and his slow, rhythmic breathing tells me that he’s asleep. I drag myself out of the armchair and switch the lights off. I’m heading back to the armchair before I stop, change directions, and settle onto the soft, carpeted floor next to James. The urge to lie next to him is overwhelming, but I can’t risk rolling over and aggravating his injuries.

The floor is the next best option, at least for tonight.

26

JAMES

Well, this fucking sucks. It’s day one post-accident and everything hurts worse than it did yesterday.

I can’t move. I know I’m not supposed to, but I’m an athlete and I get restless. Moving and exercising are second nature to me. Even on my days off, I try to get in some light movement to get my blood flowing. But even that’s too much right now.

My left hand is still bandaged up and my right arm is in a sling. I can’t grab anything, cook for myself, take a shower effectively, or even jerk off. Usually, I take care of myself at least once a day, and I get insanely horny whenever I’m bored.

Yesterday, I was nervous about the game so I wasn’t in the mood for anything. Then we had the game, and Ethan and I didn’t have sex afterward for obvious reasons. Today, Ethan overslept and had to run out to make it to practice, leaving no time for anything to happen.

---