“You struck out. No big deal. My team was winning anyway.”
“It still sucks to lose even if I hate sports.” Morgan’s eyes darted to the teammates left around the table. “No offense. I’m just better at other things.”
I threw him a knowing glance. He was ruthless at video games, especially ones that involved strategy.
“Instead of celebrating our win with the blue team,” Vickers said, “you jogged to home plate to console Morgan.”
Holy shit, he was right. I ran straight to Morgan, who was still holding the bat and sulking, and pulled him into a hug. Right then, I didn’t care about winning. I only wanted to comfort him. It was the year before his official diagnosis, when his parents were beginning to make appointments and ask new questions, but he was still able to hit a ball pretty well when we’d practiced before the game. He had trouble planting his feet properly in the batter’s box, but despite his nerves, he’d even gotten that part down.
Morgan’s cheeks were bright red, and it felt like everyone around the table was staring at us.
“What?” I said. “That’s what friends do.”
“Absolutely,” Jasmine replied. “And you’re the best kind.”
“Yeah, you are,” Morgan said in a soft voice as Ramirez—hot-baseball-pants Ramirez—started talking about their upcoming schedule on the road.
Kellan pulled Morgan into a conversation about his major. They’d been talking occasionally during the night and seemed to have a lot in common. Kellan had even introduced him to Brady’s brother, Ricky, and it was like being at a brainiac convention.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what Vickers said as I stood to throw out our napkins and cups.
I’d always had a soft spot for Morgan. I’d do anything for him. Even jerk off in front of him, apparently. Or offer to let him hook up with the guy I’d invited over. Nope, didn’t want my brain going down that slippery slope again.
The bowling alley cleared out not long after, and when we got home, neither of us felt tired enough to go to bed, so we spread out on opposite ends of the couch with our feet touching, which was standard for us.
My phone buzzed with a message from my hookup app, and I noticed it was from the same dude I had over that time Morgan got home early. Thinking about that night, I could feel the flush crawl over my cheeks.
“What?” Morgan asked, immediately noticing my change in demeanor.
“Nothing, it’s just…remember that guy who was here when you…?”
“How could I forget?” he asked with a smirk. “Is he wanting to hook up again? I can go to my room, or you can go meet him. Don’t worry about me.”
“I have no desire to hook up with him again, or anyone really, at least lately,” I replied, and was that a hint of relief I noticed in his gaze?
“Yeah, me neither,” he muttered without meeting my eye. “Are you sure? It’s really no prob—”
“I’m very sure,” I said, nudging his leg with my foot, which dragged a shy smile out of him.
“Okay, then. So…want to play Hearts of Iron?” Morgan asked. It was his favorite computer game, one that involved war strategies. It wasn’t my favorite, but like I said, I’d do anything for him.
“Of course I do. Let me grab my laptop.”
10
Morgan
I was deep in my coding project when Elliot got home from work. We’d been like ships passing in the night, each picking up extra shifts to make up for the next couple of weekends. And between the bachelor party tomorrow and the wedding next week, I was feeling stretched thin, helping Ryan and my mom with any little thing on their to-do lists so the nuptials went off without a hitch.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Elliot called out, and even though he was joking, the words wrapped around me like one of his warm hugs, bringing a comfort I’d never experienced with anyone else. Maybe I was being sappy, but the story Vickers had reminded us about the other night at the bowling alley had stuck with me. Elliot had so much love to give someone, but it had to be the right person, or we would have some words.
“Are you practicing being date material again?” I mused as he walked into the kitchen, ignoring that my stomach had twisted uncomfortably at the thought of him meeting someone special.
“Uh-huh. How am I doing so far?” When he yawned, I felt guilty for asking too much of him, all because I needed my best friend to babysit me at my brother’s wedding. Though I had a feeling he would’ve volunteered regardless.
“Pretty good.” I made a pouty face. “Except you’ve been neglecting your future date because you’re working so much.”
“Aw, someone misses me.” He reached over to muss my hair, and if we were heading out the door, I would’ve thrown a fit, but at this hour, I didn’t care. “Can you still help me study for my biochemistry test? It’s tomorrow.”