Dinnerplates came and went. The conversation also came and went, and Beckett paid itas much attention as he paid the shuffling plates. He was resting his chin inhis palm, looking at her with a half-smile. She probably thought it was meantonly for her, but it was just his usual expression when he looked at a woman hethought could scratch his itch. Truth be told, his thoughts were bouncingbetween sleeping with her, an oil change he needed to schedule, an email heforgot to send, and … Andie’s green eyes. Whoa. Beckett mentallyscratched his head over inviting Jayne to dinner. Given what he’d been after,it had seemed a sound move at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure that’s whathe wanted.
Later, whenhe let himself into his dark apartment, he shucked his clubbing clothes infavor of drawstring pants and T-shirt, grabbed a water from the fridge, andstretched out on the couch. He picked up his phone and thumbed a text to Andie.
Whatr u doing?
Baseballplayoffs.
Hereached for the remote and clicked on the TV, searching until he landed on agame.
Canu talk?
Onlyduring commercials.
Ualone?
Noanswer. His foot jerked repeatedly. The inning ended, and commercials came on.He swiped her number.
“Hi, Beck.What’s up?”
“Ihave, what, two minutes?”
“Maybelonger if they don’t show my favorite GEICO commercial, so talk fast.”
Atickle fired his belly. Andie’s sass was the most stimulating conversation he’dhad all evening; it was like a shot of adrenaline, counterbalancing theagonizingly slow descent into snooze mode at dinner.
“So whythe hell are you watching this shit when the Rockies are toast?”
“I lovebaseball. You know that, you hockey goon,” she countered.
“Yeah,yeah. Tell me what you’ve been doing,” he prodded.
“Oh,you know. The usual. Escorting Queen Elizabeth around town, dining with theSheik of Araby, inspecting my yachts. How’s the new place, and why’re you homeon Friday night?”
“It’sall right. I’m tired after a long week.” He paused. “I didn’t know theyinspected yachts in Denver. You alone?”
“Yeah,why?”
“Justwondering.”
“Are youalone?” she teased.
A longexhale. “Oh yeah.”
“Youdon’t sound happy about that.”
“I justgot back from dinner, and I’m … I just wanted to talk to somebody. Somebody whocan keep up with me when I’m wearing my glasses,” he chuckled.
“So youhad dinner with an airhead?”
“Idon’t know if she was an airhead or just young. Or both. Whatever the case, itwas one of those painful meals where you search for something to talk about andthe check can’t arrive fast enough. I think all we had in common was that shehates mango ice cream as much as I do. Mostly I asked open-ended questions andlet her yammer.”
“Ididn’t realize you were into talking to your girlfriends, Beck. I thought youjust passed ‘Go’ and hopped straight into the sack. Was she not interested?”
“Ha,ha. She’s not a girlfriend, just someone who works in the building. And yes,she was interested—in a free meal.”
Thatrealization had come at the end of dinner and had been a hip check to his ego.It wasn’t so much that he wanted her to jump his bones, but after sittingthrough her inane blathering, he wanted to believe he at least had the optionof getting laid. His call. Annoyed that he’d wasted his time and money,he was also strangely relieved.
“Thechase is so damn tedious.” He took a swig of water while a new question whirledin his head. Had coke made the chase fun before? How much had cokeclouded and colored his world?
A silentmoment later, he said, “You still there?”
“Yeah.I, uh, dropped the phone, and then I had to clear wax out of my ear. Did I hearyou right, Beck?”
“Youget funnier by the second.” He snatched a Nerf basketball off the floor andtossed it at a hoop hanging on the wall. Missed.
“I’mhere all week. I’ll leave tickets for you at the door,” she laughed.
“Sotell me about your latest projects. What rabbits are you pulling out of yourmagic pixie hat this time?” He rolled off the couch to retrieve the ball.
“Oh!”she exclaimed. “We’re back. Gotta go.”
“No,wait. I’ll watch it with you.”
“Areyou serious? Beckett Miller watch boring baseball?”
“I’vegotta learn so I know what I’m cheering about when you finally take me to thatgame.” What he’d never told her was he’d played baseball every summer as a kid.Having her walk him through the action would be way more fun.
Alittle sigh. “All right. You can watch with me, but no talking.”
Theydid talk. About the game; about so many things; about nothing. The times theywere quiet felt just as right as the times they bantered, and he was reluctantto say good night when the game ended.
“Notyet,” he said. “What was your favorite play tonight?” This was replaced by“Biggest surprise this week?” He rattled off more questions, dancing around theones he sidestepped. Are you with Adrian? Are you seeing anyone? Hewasn’t sure why he didn’t ask. He told himself she wasn’t, and even if she was,it was none of his business.
Atlast, she softly said, “Hey, Beck, you’ve been keyed up all night. Iseverything all right?”
“Sure,”he exclaimed a little too loudly.
Deadsilence.
“I’mnot doing drugs, if that’s what you’re driving at.” Jesus, a littleparanoid? Too many questions were brewing inside him.
“Whoa.I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, do you still, um, indulge?”
“No.”
“Do youmiss it?”
“I trynot to think about it, so no, I mostly don’t miss it.”
Shetook a swallow of something. “What got you started, Beck?”
Heexhaled loudly. “Early in my career, I got injured. It can be the kiss of deathwhen you’re starting out, trying to earn your spot on the roster. So I tookpainkillers and played through it. I started drinking a lot. The combinationbrought me down, and the more I hung with the LA crowd, the more coke I used. Itwasn’t just a good time. It was a way to balance out the other shit.”
“Soundslike a vicious cycle.”
“Yeah.And the more I did it, the craftier I got at hiding it. As long as I could playand my stats were good, the team looked the other
