Page 12 of Sliding into Love
“It’s not a role I’m playing. I merely want to help these guys. I grew up rich, but I had enough friends whose parents struggled to make ends meet or to find babysitters that I empathize with my guys. I don’t have kids or a partner, so why would I not helpout when they need it? Plus, the children are pretty awesome. Kids don’t hold back their thoughts at all. It’s great knowing where I stand with them.”
The dig is inadvertent, but it’s still there. Royce and I have a bit of a stare off after my words. We both have to accept the past for what it was or else the future won’t work. I need to have some kind of an idea of how serious he is about this team. They’re all more than just players in uniforms to me. They’re family too. Especially since mine are too stuck up for me to want to spend any real amount of time around.
Sure, I’ll attend the parties when they request my presence, but I’m not seeing them weekly. There’s no family dinner or special holiday moments between us. They’ve never really understood me the way I’d hoped.
And once my parents realized I wasn’t going to be a pawn in their hopes for a business marriage arrangement, I practically became an orphan. If people didn’t know of my existence before, then they had no clue my parents even had a child.
Their voice draws me out of the negative thoughts. “Kids have nothing to lose. That’s why they’re so eager to overshare.”
“Maybe, but adults could learn a thing or two from them.” I shrug at their response.
Royce takes off for the line of food at my words. It’s like I’ve hit a nerve without trying to. I was always good at that. Even when I’d try to compliment them, I’d end up sounding harsh and judgmental. Then I’d have no way of correcting it without nearly drooling or begging for forgiveness—neither of which was an option given the last name Meyer.
That and Clark would have kicked my ass. He was never a fan of us looking weak in any way. We were meant to be a team of assholes. If I caved, then he’d turn on me as quickly as he did everyone else.
It’s a shitty realization that took me too long to figure out.
I make a resolution then and there. I will do my best to be kind and open with Royce Bellport from here on out. And I’ll take my own advice too. If I love the open honesty of children, then I should mimic it. Royce deserves to know how I feel about them. I just have to find the right time to share this decades long desire without sounding ridiculous.
Will they believe me when the time comes?
And if they do, then what? That’s the million-dollar question.
CHAPTER FIVE
ROYCE
My first weekof work with the Bellport Blue Jays moves at a glacial pace. Not because there’s anything boring to the team or how it’s managed. It’s more that I feel like I’m living in some alternate reality where nothing makes sense anymore. I spend more time during my day analyzing what the hell is happening around me than doing any actual work.
Kenneth is treating me with kindness and respect at every turn. He’s thorough in his explanations, while also including me in the decision making process. I feel like I’m truly a part of the team. Almost like a co-ownership.
The only problem with it all is that I find myself thinking of him when I’m not at work. I can be checking my emails while curled up in my bed and he’ll pop in my head. Or when I’m driving to get dinner, I’ll wonder if he’s eaten yet.
It’s not fair for him to take up so much space.
All I want is to get my revenge on him being an asshole when we were kids. That’s all he owes me. Well, that and making sure I know how to run the team how it’s supposed to be run.
But that last part is a given.
Kenneth has systems in place that would make the most type-A person squeal with joy. There are notes for everything,including who has allergies to what and a rolodex of information for every person on the team. He’s got favorite colors, birthdays, hobbies, and more in these files.
His attention to detail only makes me like him more.
Andthatis a problem.
I don’t want to like Kenneth Meyer. He’s supposed to be my mortal enemy. I’m set to hate him forever and ever. It’s been my only rule since the first day he teased me in middle school.
The only problem is that the Kenneth I know as a bully seems to be M.I.A., and in his place is a kind, caring, devoted man. He’s honest from what I’ve seen, and he gives more of himself to this team than anyone.
It’s jarring to observe.
How can someone change so much? How can these two versions of him be possible?
I’m contemplating the notion again while at dinner with Bellamy and Finn late Sunday evening. They asked me to come by for a rundown of things.
“How has it been? I know it probably wasn’t the best time,” Bell asks between bites of his teriyaki chicken.
I shrug as I pick at the fried rice in my bowl. Normally I’d have devoured this in a few bites, but I’m not feeling it tonight. There’s too much disconnect in my body and mind.
