Page 60 of Relief Pitcher

“Make your own nachos, you lazy asshole.”

“But yours are so good. Are you going to deprive me of your superior nachos?” I repositioned myself on the couch and flipped through the channels until I found a baseball game and waited for Seth to cave. I knew he would.

“Fine. But I don’t want to hear a single complaint about the number of olives.”

“Would I complain about that? Pssh.”

Seth was mumbling something, but I couldn’t make it out.

My stomach rumbled at the prospect of Seth’s nachos. It was a low-key evening with Ethan working and Dom doing who knows what. Seth had spent the day helping Austin brew. No practice, so there was no reason to see Cooper.

You don’t need baseball practice as an excuse to see him.The angel on my shoulder clearly didn’t know me at all. The devil voice, which sounded a lot like Dom, suggested I hop on Grindr. Meh.

Meh? I shook my head. What the fuck was happening to me?

I could text Cooper and ask what he was up to. After fixing dinner, Seth would probably head to his room anyway. It was where he spent most of his free time, like when we were kids. He was probably playing video games or absorbed in his fan fiction.

It wouldn’t kill me to suggest watching a Hallmark movie with Coop in person instead of texting about it. I’d kinda missed that since the weekend we’d spent together. It would be nice to decompress with him since the softball season had turned out more intense than I’d expected. We were championship-bound, and Danita was chomping at the bit. The team was starting to get its hopes up because Coop and I clicked as well on the field as off.

Cooper was so damn easy to be around. I still couldn’t believe I’d invited him over last week and let him hang out with me and the guys. Though they’d teased a little, the guys had been oddly quiet on the topic. I’d expected a grilling after Coop left, but everyone but Dom dispersed, and he wasn’t about to start a conversation with me about it.

My phone buzzed, and I smiled. Maybe Cooper was thinking of me too.

Not Coop, but just as good. Gavin’s name popped up on my screen. It’d been far too long since I’d had a substantial conversation with my best friend. He’d been wrapped up in a big project overseas, and with the massive time zone difference, it’d been hard to talk beyond passing check-in texts.

Gavin: Hey, man. How’s it going?

Ty: G-spot! How about you? What time is it there?

Gavin: Can’t you stop with that horrible nickname?! I’ve begged for years. Literal decades.

Ty: Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Gavin: Can I call?

I frowned at my phone. That was unusual. Instead of responding, I called.

“Everything okay?” I asked as soon as Gavin answered.

“Hello to you too. Long time no chat.”

“Don’t give me that shit. We never talk on the phone. Are you dying? Need an organ? On the run from the law? Rip off the Band-Aid.”

Gavin’s husky laugh was comforting. “Aren’t we all dying?”

“Jesus Christ, Aristotle.”

“I saw you liking my Instagram stories and figured you might be free. It was either you’re bored or taking a shit. I figured it was worth the risk.”

I snorted. “Fifty-fifty on that one.” There was something off with his voice. We’d been best friends since the first day of third grade when we’d worn the sameBeavis and ButtheadT-shirt. He’d traded me his chocolate pudding at lunch for my butterscotch one. Meeting someone who actually liked the nasty butterscotch onesandBeavis and Buttheadwas like winning the lottery.

Gavin had been great with Austin too, and when things went to shit with Austin’s parents and he moved in with us, Gavin had been there for him like he was family. But then Gavin got into an Ivy League school and eventually an internship overseas while Austin and I stayed in state. Gavin had been living abroad and traveling for work ever since, sorta like Seth.

Despite his traveling and my lack of it, we’d worked hard to stay close over the years. I was grateful for him. It helped to have someone in my corner who wasn’t here in person all the time like the other guys. Gavin was a great sounding board. He’d talked me through choosing between grad school and a corporate marketing job. And when the guys and I had started talking about opening the brewery, I’d relied on Gavin as an impartial person.

“Where are you now? Are you still in Australia?”

“No, I’m taking a breather in New Zealand while some stuff cools off with the last project.”

---