Three steps forward and two steps back. Maybe in this case it was more like two and a half steps back. I don’t really know whose idea it was to kiss. It genuinely seemed to just happen, and, from my point of view, it was perfect. I naturally wanted to slide my hand up the back of Blake’s head and just hold him there in the moment with me, but it was too much.

Blake couldn’t even look at me. He nearly fell out of the car, and then he climbed up the hill to his house without looking back. He was so fucking handsome in his uniform, but I was frustrated and hurt. It wasn’t like I coerced him into it.

I didn’t see Blake at all for the next two days. That was unusual. We had settled into a sort of routine where, in one way or another, we seemed to see each other somehow nearly every single day.

I didn’t know if he was angry or confused or just being shy. We were both adults. Surely we could talk about any of it.

I knew that I didn’t want to stop at just a kiss. I had fantasies and dreams about Blake, and they were growing more intense by the day. Maybe I did push things. Maybe it was my fault. By the second day without seeing Blake, I settled into a personal funk.

I was tempted to call him, but I didn’t really know what I would say. Hey, are you afraid of kisses? I promise I won’t do it anymore. It was an awkward moment, and it would be awkward the next time we saw each other, but I always wanted to face things like that head on and move past them.

As always, my garden was there to absorb my free time and take me away from too much negative thinking. It was still just a tiny bit early, and there was a slight risk of a last frost yet to come, but I climbed into the car after finishing my work for the day and took a trip to the garden center. It was time to seek out some of my hard-working annuals for summer.

I returned home with flats of petunias, snapdragons, marigolds and impatiens. It always looked like I had an incredible number of plants for the size of my house and flower beds when they were all packed in tight in flats in the rear of my car. Then, when I had them all planted, it was perfect. Neighbors always commented on how lush and full I kept my flower beds. It worked, because I bought enough plants to fill the space properly during my spring planting.

The next day I spent two hours after work digging in the dirt and wedging my new flowers into place. It did help me think less about Blake and I began to develop some perspective on that single kiss.

Reggie called and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner. I asked him to give me an hour, and then we could head to our favorite mom-and-pop Italian restaurant in the neighborhood.

He said, “Make sure you clean up all nice and pretty for your dinner date.”

“Play your cards right, and you might even get a hug before the evening’s over.”

He asked, “A kiss?”

I winced slightly because the image of Blake came crashing back into my mind, but I held on to the conversation saying, “On the cheek.”

Reggie laughed and said, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“See you then.”

Ninety minutes later, I took a bite of the perfectly crisp garlic bread. We were settled into the restaurant waiting for our pasta to be delivered to the table. Reggie asked, “You really kissed him? Damn, I think I’m a little jealous.”

I asked, “Why would you be jealous? You and I have been there and done that with our dating.”

Reggie laughed. “No jealous about getting to kiss Blake, Ian. It’s not always about you. I think he’s hot. Who wouldn’t think Blake is hot? If he’s really gay.”

I sighed and winked at him. “I’m hurt now. You don’t want me any more.”

He reached a hand beneath the table and squeezed my thigh saying, “You’re still my backup plan, sweetie.”

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my glass of red wine. I said, “It didn’t go anywhere though.”

Reggie folded his arms across his chest. He asked, “He didn’t like a kiss from you? You are a good kisser, Ian. I’ll give you credit for that.”

Reggie was a good kisser, too. That was the best part of our relationship when we were dating. We could have kissed for hours and maybe we should have stuck with that instead of trying to do anything else together as a couple. I said, “I think it scared him. He nearly fell out of the car.”

With a snicker, Reggie said, “I’m trying to imagine that. That would have been funny to see.”

That was exactly what I needed. Finally, I saw some humor in the situation. I said, “It really was, in its own way. He’s so tall, and I was worried he was going to do a face plant right there on the driveway. Then he marched right up those steps and didn’t look back.”

Reggie sipped his wine and said, “Ian, you’re just too much for us mere mortals. We just can’t handle you. It drives us all crazy and insane.” Then he touched a finger to his tongue and placed the fingertip against my forearm making a sizzling sound. “You don’t think he will quit the team, do you? He gave us our fist season-opening win in our history.”

I sipped at my wine and looked over the rim of the glass at Reggie. “I don’t see why he would. He’s just probably sitting up in the house trying to figure out what really happened. We’ve sort of already had our first date.”

“First date?” asked Reggie.

“Yeah, dinner and everything.” Then I told Reggie about being invited over to Blake’s for dinner and how he leaned into me while I was cooking.

“So he likes you, but he’s just shy?” asked Reggie.

I nodded and said, “At least that’s what I’m hoping.” Our server returned to the table carrying two large pasta bowls. I opted for spaghetti Bolognese while Reggie’s choice was fettuccine Alfredo. I looked down at my bowl eager to dig in and asked Reggie, “So how are you doing on the dating front? Any prospects?”

Reggie said, “No, but remember Connor Murphy?”

I twirled the spaghetti on my fork and then sucked the first bite into my mouth. I chewed and looked at Reggie. I contemplated the name while droplets of Alfredo sauce flew when he took his first bite. “Isn’t that the name of the redhead on the team we just played?”

“Yeah, and I dated him for a couple of weeks two years ago.”

I set my fork down and said. “That’s right. He was the one that got in a fight at the Toolbox, isn’t he?”

Reggie nodded. He said, “Yeah, and I ran the other way. I have to admit that it freaked me out a little bit.”

I said, “Okay, so Connor Murphy. Did he say something to you at the game?”

“Yeah, he said we should have a drink sometime. Did you happen to take a look at him?”

I shook my head no. “Honestly, I didn’t pay much attention to the guys on the other team except for their strike zones and trying to get them out. What did I miss?”

Reggie sipped his wine. “He’s slimmed down and he had some serious muscle in his arms. And damn, I saw that smile of his again. It’s almost as good as yours, Ian.”

I grinned and asked, “So you’re taking him up on the offer for a drink?”

“Do you think I should?”

I shrugged. “Why not? Just duck if he decides to take another swing at someone.”

---

I called Blake up and asked if he wanted a ride to practice. He said, “Sure thing, and I’m sorry I’ve been sort of a hermit the last couple of days. I’ve been trying to clean out the basement. You wouldn’t believe how much junk is down there. I sorta wonder if any of it is worth anything.”

His voice was light-hearted and sounded genuine. I was surprised. Maybe I was making the kiss into something bigger than it really was. I said, “If you need any help down there, just give me a buzz. I kind of like poking around old stuff like that. I found a box of old diaries in my attic that I gave to the historical society.”

While I was piling bats and balls into the car for practice, Blake appeared wearing sweats and an army green T-Shirt with the sleeves torn off. His hair was buzzed back the shortest I’d seen it yet, and he had a big smile on his face. I could feel myself growing weak in the knees.

Blake threw an arm around my shoulder and asked, “Are we gonna win every game this season?”

Just as I started to answer, Reggie pulled up. I said, “If we do, it would be a huge change for the team. I’m not sure if they are ready to handle being winners.”

I didn’t know that the brief conversation with Blake would foreshadow the tone of practice. When we joined the rest of the team, they were all buzzing about the win and whether or not we could be undefeated.

Then I heard Billy Alvey’s deep voice above the din. “You all are just a little bit crazy if you think one new player will turn a bunch of losers into league champions.”

Then I was shocked to hear Blake speak up. The entire team shifted their gaze on cue as he cleared his throat and said, “It just might happen.”

Reggie whispered in my ear, “This season is gonna be a good one. I’d better start popping the popcorn.”