Page 29 of Passed Ball

"I'm a big fan of the dessert first theory. Why deny yourself something so good?" he asks, his voice dripping with innuendo, and I can't help but wonder if we are still talking about sticky buns.

He adds two forks to the box.

I bite my lip, stopping myself from reaching out and taking one of the forks. "What are you doing here?"

"I stopped to grab coffee on my way to the stadium and I couldn't resist the two-for-one deal."

"Yes, but what are you doing at my table?"

"Two sticky buns sounded like a good idea. But now I'm not sure I'll be able to eat both of them." He sighs like it's a real tragedy and glances over his shoulder at Lilah, lowering his voice. "And I won't be able to throw it away. I would feel too bad."

My stomach growls loudly, halting the half-hearted brush-off I was about to give him. He holds out the fork for me, and I take it.

"Besides, if you don't help me eat them I'll end up taking it to the stadium with me and the guys will fight over it. We can't have that kind of petty energy in the clubhouse." Without missing a beat, Xavier digs in, pulling a piece of the sticky bun off and popping it in his mouth, chewing before he says, "Have I told you that your niece is terrifying? I think it's the Gen Z in her; she gives zero fucks about offending me. I can't even imagine how badly she'd roast me if I didn't feed you."

"She's someone you want on your side, that's for sure." I press my fork down into the doughy creation and I cut off a small piece for myself--savoring the bite and the break from work.

He takes another piece, chewing slowly, and I find myself oddly mesmerized by the way his throat works as he chases it down with a sip of cold brew. "Somehow, her lack of filter and strong meter for bullshit make me more comfortable leaving Holland with her."

"She'd burn the world down before she let anything happen to your daughter," I say, meaning every word.

"Seriously, you should be proud of her. Despite not knowing what's going to come out of her mouth half the time, she's an amazing person, and she's going to make a great nurse."

It's one of the few things he could say to render me speechless. Pride wells up, tightening my throat until it's hard to swallow. The emotion is too much, and I'm afraid of what might slip out if I try to speak.

I grab the fork instead, tearing off a piece of sticky bun and chewing slowly.

We're barely friends, and he's Tenley's boss. Sharing that I more or less raised her--and why--is too personal. Like revealing a scar I'm not ready to show.

The obscene moan that pours out of me when I bite into the gooey center of the sticky bun is the accidental distraction I need. I'd be mortified if there wasn't a tiny orgasm happening in my mouth. It's honestly the closest I've come to heaven in a while.

Across the table a throat clears, Xavier's knuckles are white and the veins in his forearms pop as he grips the fork in his own hand. When my eyes lift to his, they're squarely on my mouth. I reach for the napkin and dab at the corner, but it comes away clean.

"So . . ." I take my time pulling another piece of the airy dough off. "Things are going okay with Tenley?"

"Ah . . . yeah. She was singing Holland a song about the absorption and metabolization of drugs when I left. My baby is going to be smarter than me by the time she's six months old."

"She'll be ready to rule the world before she's out of diapers. That's how Tenley was--she could have run an entire country by the time she was five."

He laughs, but it's the kind of knowing laugh that makes me think he's picturing it. "I kind of like it. Maybe her time with Tenley will stick with her and she can do something more meaningful with her life than catching and hitting a ball for a living."

"What you do is meaningful," I assert.

He scoffs at me and it makes me angry because I see the impact athletes have on kids every day.

"You don't believe me? Stop by Double Play. You'll find dozens of kids that idolize you because the game means everything to them. It gives them hope and a goal to work toward where they otherwise might not have it. It gives them an escape when things aren't great at home. That's why I was so annoyed when your nanny up and left. Those kids deserve the best and the drama with Braxton was not it."

"Yeah. It was bullshit." His voice drops, rough and raw. "I know better than anyone how much your kids rely on Double Play. My mom died when I was young, and after that . . . baseball was all I had. It saved my life." He exhales, a hand raking through his hair. "You had every right to be frustrated with the situation. It might not have been directly my fault, but I'm sorry it made your job harder."

Silence hangs between us. I'm not sure how to respond to the revelation that Xavier's childhood wasn't so different from the kids I work with every day. I knew his dad was an alcoholic but I just assumed his mom was around.

It explains so much--his need to do things on his own but also why he tolerated the way his ex treated him.

"It's water under the bridge," I say, bringing us back to his apology.

"I hope you didn't think I was minimizing what you do. Double Play fills such an important need, but sometimes I get so focused on giving Holland the childhood I didn't have that I lose perspective."

"Xavier, it's fine." I place my hand on his arm, a small gesture meant to reassure him. "It'd take a lot more than that to hurt my feelings." His gaze flicks to where our hands connect, so I pull back, adding, "I get it, though--the drive to give someone you love more opportunities. I'm the same with Tenley."

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