Page 47 of The Battery
“Bingo.”
He dug his thumbs deeper and it sent a wave of relaxation at me. I stretched out farther and sank deeper into the couch. This wasn’t fair but I didn’t have the heart to stop him.
“Got any strategies for him?”
“Maybe,” I said in an effort to end the line of questions.
Then realized I shouldn’t default to my terse responses. Not anymore.
“It only takes me once to learn something. Quinn will pull the same shit again and it won’t work. It’ll frustrate him.”
He kneaded in just the right way with one hand while the second crept up my calf.
Dangerous.
“I know what to expect this time,” Cody said. “I’ll be ready for him when he comes up to bat.” Farther now. His fingers ran delicately under my knee, then cupped my calf when they came back down. He was no longer massaging. Just… appreciating. “Hey, maybe I could hit him like I did you…”
I grunted a response. I had the crook of my arm folded over my eyes.
“Falling asleep on me over there?” Cody asked. Another grunted response.
I feigned the fatigue and put more energy into suppressing my growing erection. The last thing we needed was my small shorts—which I knew he loved—getting tight while lying prone on a couch, exposed as I was.
I kept myself blinded with my arm as I felt Cody lift my legs to extract himself. I heard him stand.Good.I needed a moment to cool off and—
He was there. Back on the couch, but this time lying beside me. There wasn’t much room.
“Cody,” I warned him in as delicate a voice as I knew how. “I don’t know…”
“I’m not gonna do anything. If you don’t.” He had wedged himself to fit perfectly at my side. Knee lifted far enough not to hit my growing hardness. Arm draped over my chest. Face nestled between my pec and bicep. “Just… don’t move. Go to sleep.”
I didn’t dare move my arm to look down at him. The Spartan in me said this was unacceptable and that only bad things would come from this.
So I ignored him. We fell asleep together on my couch, a lazy afternoon nap on the last day of break.
It was a deep, restful sleep. And it felt perfect.
*
The dining room sat toward the front of the house on the left. A bay window let in plenty of orange evening light. A large, round table dominated the space, buffet table on one side, ornate archway on the other leading to the kitchen. My private chef had come yesterday to batch-cook meals for the next few days. Instead of a frozen meal, I snagged a fresh dinner from the refrigerator and reheated the necessary portions. I didn’t set out as much for my uncle as I did Cody and myself, but I made sure there was enough there to sate his appetite.
Cody and I continued to pound water like we were still dehydrated. The vestiges of a hangover were officially gone, especially after that nap, but I still wanted to make sure we hit the ground running tomorrow when we left for Brooklyn. It was a four-game series followed by two games in Ottawa. Five days away from my uncle as he continued to worsen…
Five minutes into our meal, I noticed my uncle hadn’t taken a bite of his food. He’d been chatting endlessly with Cody. Damn but he sure did enjoy the pitcher’s company. Ever since I rousedhim from sleep, he’d been hammering Cody with questions about his pitching career. Back in the day, he had pushed Archie into pitching. I was showing clear signs of favoring catching and Uncle Andy and my father thought it would be glorious to have twin sons form a battery. Alas, Archie dominated the outfield and no one questioned his desire to be a centerfielder.
“Eat, Uncle Andy,” I commanded. I regretted the tone. I knew how touchy he could be with it sometimes and the only reason I knew that was because he did the same to me.
My father’s brother gave me one of those looks I knew all too well. Plainly, he returned to speaking with Cody.
Heat crawled up my sternum. Viscerally, I knew it was fear. In the moment? Anger.
“Eat,” I repeated. “You need to eat.”
His face softened. Somehow that made it worse. “Kiddo? I’m not hungry.”
I took in a sharp breath through my nose. I didn’t dare look at Cody. I felt shame that he was witnessing this. “You said you wanted to have dinner with us.”
“Because I enjoy the company, not because I’m hungry.” The words left his mouth slowly. The truth of his weariness making an appearance.
