I said, “Mo looked at you like you were a nut or something when you told him we were going out to dinner together. What’s up with him? Doesn’t he think friends like to gorge on pasta together on occasion? It’s better than sitting at home eating a frozen dinner or battling the vultures at the stadium.”

I watched Eric look back at me in silence for a moment before he said, “Yeah, his reaction was kind of funny, but give him a break. Mo’s had one wild season, and he’s thinking about retirement. That has to be stressful. He tries to hide it, but I think he’s on edge much of the time.”

Eric suggested that we go to a little neighborhood Italian restaurant for dinner on our day off between games. It was a few blocks from his gleaming glass apartment building. He tried to convince me to rent a unit two floors beneath him, but I decided to stay in the hotel for a few more weeks while I got to know the neighborhoods of Charlotte better. I didn’t know if I wanted to live in such a modern building, but Eric’s amenities were great. His building even had a dry cleaner on the first floor if I ever needed it.

Eric asked, “What’s your favorite pasta for a carb load? I always go for the Alfredo sauce. With all that cream, I can feel my arteries clogging as it goes down my throat, but I know I’ll work it all off on the field and in the gym the next day.”

I said, “I like Bolognese. I know it’s basic and ordinary, but when I say it back home to most people, they look at me cross-eyed like I’m talking about some weird foreign food.”

Eric laughed. I loved the sound of his laughter. It wasn’t loud. It was more like a snicker or a chortle, but it was unique. As soon as he stopped, I couldn’t wait to hear him laugh again. He said, “You pronounce it correctly, too. Chase calls it, ‘baloney sauce.’” I grinned as he laughed again.

Our server brought two glasses of wine and a basket of bread. I started to reach into the basket, but Eric said, “Hold up.”

He lifted his glass into the air and said, “I think this deserves a toast.”

“This what?”

Eric grinned. “Dinner with me of course.”

It was my turn to laugh, but I dutifully raised my glass. “Of course. Let’s raise our glasses to dinner with Eric Hinsdale. It is one of the highlights of the baseball season.”

After he sipped the wine, Eric said, “Thanks for playing along. I planned on saying we needed to finally properly toast your call-up to the big time, but then I remembered we had champagne at my apartment.”

“You made a quick save. I didn’t pick up on that at all.”

“I’m usually good at thinking on my feet.”

I said, “I’m thankful for that. Otherwise, we might run into each other head-on in the outfield. That would be both embarrassing and painful. Have you ever run into another player in the outfield? I did it once in high school. My friends brought it up for months after.”

“No, fortunately, it hasn’t happened to me yet. I don’t want you to be my first. At least my first on that. I know it’s nosy, but tell me more about high school. You were different from me. You’ve said you hung out with the jocks. I didn’t so much. When I talk to Chase about his high school, he was team captain, Homecoming king, and the whole nine yards.”

I said, “I got elected to Homecoming court, too. It was funny, though. I was a jock, but it was the band kids and smart kids that elected me. The other jocks thought I was stuck on myself. In reality, it was the other way around. The smart kids knew that. I didn’t hang out with them on the weekends, but they were some of my best friends when I talked with people between classes.”

“Damn, I was in an Atlanta suburb, and you were in southern Indiana, but we might as well have gone to the same school.”

“Well, we’re not all yokels regardless of what anybody else says.”

Eric leaned back as the server returned with our pasta. “You did help your cause by ditching the ratty old T-Shirt.”

I started to twirl the pasta onto my fork. “I guess you have a point there. I was miserable for the two years I spent in college. I was a baseball hero, but I definitely didn’t fit with the jocks. The main problem in college was that it was such a big place, and the smart kids in my class were all suspicious of me. It was a fucking mess. So, when the scouts came calling, I high-tailed it to Wisconsin.”

Eric asked, “Wisconsin? What happened in Wisconsin? Where did you go there?”

“The Timber Rattlers in Appleton, Wisconsin. They’ve got a great stadium up there and a great legacy. I thought I’d gone to baseball heaven.”

“Wow, the only place I played was Chattanooga before the Yellowjackets called me, but you said six years in the minors?”

I nodded. “Yep, six long years. I lost count of how many guys asked me if I was ready to start coaching.”

“The way you’ve been playing here in Charlotte, they won’t say anything about that. I know we’re only a couple of weeks in, but your batting average is over .300, and we’re winning games. You’re making the fans forget about that O’Rourke guy.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think they’ll forget Chase that easy, particularly since he’s on the radio for every game. I don’t want them to forget about him. I’ll be happy if they remember me.”

Eric leaned to the side so he could see around the centerpiece in the middle of the table. “How’s the pasta?”

“It’s good. Do you want a taste?”

“Sure. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

Eric reached his fork across the table and splattered sauce onto the tablecloth. “Aww, man. I’m sorry about that. I guess I’m a little clumsy.”

“I should have handed you my fork. I already had pasta on it. How does it taste?”

Eric swallowed and said, “It’s good, but it doesn’t match the creaminess of Alfredo. This is seriously delish. A bite for you?” Eric held his fork in the air.

I shook my head. “I only like red sauces on pasta. It’s a quirk.”

“Wow, that’s craziness. You’ll have to trust my opinion then. It tastes great.” He looked at my empty glass and asked, “Do you need another round of wine?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I stop at two. More alcohol isn’t part of the training regimen. The trainers would kill me, and my agent wouldn’t be so happy either. He makes me keep track of workouts and alcohol.”

“It feels like you’ve got a whole crowd watching you sometimes, doesn’t it?”

I laughed. “Yeah, and it got a lot worse two weeks ago.”

Two more glasses of wine came to the table, and we ate for a few moments in relative silence. Suddenly, Eric looked to his right. I followed his gaze. Two tattooed guys sat next to each other. They had finished their meal, and their plates were empty. One reached up to the back of the neck of the other, and they shared a quick kiss. I felt a warm sensation at the base of my spine. Turning back to Eric, I whispered, “Wow.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m more than okay with it, but back home, two guys still can’t do that in public and be sure there won’t be consequences later. At the least, they would face an entire room full of frowns and whispers.”

“Seriously?”

I nodded. “Yeah, now you understand why I’m happy to be in Charlotte. I’m sure it depends on where you are in the city, but no one but us paid much attention to that kiss.”

“Can I be nosy again?”

I gazed across the table at Eric. “Yes, and you would probably ask even if I said no. I’m starting to figure that out.”

Eric whispered, “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

For the first time, Eric startled me with something. It was a question that I didn’t expect. I leaned across the table with a surprising hiss in my whisper, “Why do you ask?”

Eric shrugged. “I’m curious I guess.”

I frowned. I didn’t know whether I wanted to tell the truth, but I knew Eric was the best friend I had in Charlotte so far, and it wouldn’t be right to start lying to him. I nodded, and while still whispering, I asked, “Would it freak you out if I said yes?”

“No, not at all. I think that’s cool.” He paused for a moment and then followed up. “Did you go all the way?”

I frowned and cringed. “Fuck, no.” I knew I’d said that a little loud, but fortunately no one looked in our direction. I whispered, “Oh, shit. Sorry about the language. Anyway, why would I do that?”

Eric shrugged, and a look of pure innocence flooded his face. He said, “I guess it depends on how much you liked the guy. You said you kissed him. Sometimes, one thing leads to another.”

“Aww, man, it was an experiment. I didn’t like him that way.” The innocence in Eric’s gaze melted into a skeptical glance. “Okay, yeah, I guess he was okay. What about you, Mr. Smirky? Have you kissed a guy?”

Eric folded his hands in his lap. “I have.”

“I thought you were straight.”

“I am.”

I rubbed my fingertips on the white tablecloth. “I don’t think I’m following this line of reasoning. You sound like kissing him was a normal thing.”

Eric said, “He was a good friend in high school, and he had a crush on a guy. He worried that his kissing technique was bad, so I volunteered to give him my opinion on his skills.”

“Seriously? Are you telling me a story to see how gullible I am?”

Eric shook his head. “No, It’s 100% true, and, you know, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. We did it a second time so that I could confirm my analysis.”

“Wow, you definitely didn’t hang out with the same guys I did in high school. He must have been in the Drama Club.” Harley paused. “Oh man, I’m sorry if I’m throwing out stereotypes.”

Eric shrugged. “It’s okay because he was. Hey, are you almost done snarfing that pasta? Let’s go for a walk.”

“Yeah, I’ve had enough. I’ve only got a couple of bites left anyway. A walk sounds good. I try to keep my mind off the game unless I’m in the stadium. It’s pretty damn nerve-wracking right now. I assume it gets better.”

Eric stood up and dropped his folded napkin on the table. “It all gets better. Trust me on that.”

Eric suggested that we walk through a neighborhood with old houses on both sides of the street. He said, “I think these brick buildings are gorgeous. I get a little tired of all the glass and steel in my apartment. I think about buying a place like this when I settle down.”

I asked, “Yeah? I think they’re great, too. I bet they have hardwood floors and look at how tall the windows are. Yep, they are beautiful.”

I liked that Eric asked thoughtful questions when we hung out together. He wasn’t scared of getting personal either. I was used to other players who spent all of their time ragging on other people, playing pranks on each other, and spending hours staring at the TV screen playing video games. Eric wanted to talk. He wanted to have real conversations.”

Eric asked, “What do you think you’ll do after baseball? Or are you planning to coach until you’re in your 70s and your hair turns white?”

I shook my head. “Can you imagine me as a coach? My attention span is way too short for that. I think maybe I’ll do something with the dogs. Maybe I’ll have a whole national chain of the best shelters setting records for finding those dogs great homes.”

“You are a sweetheart, Harley. You’ll probably save the lives of thousands of dogs. I’m glad I’m getting to know you.”

I couldn’t stop myself from blushing. “Aww, man. It’s been a long, long time since anybody’s said something like that about me.”

We heard footsteps on the old sidewalk. The steps were coming toward us, and suddenly a pair of young men appeared in the light cast by a streetlamp. They were a couple and held hands as they walked down the street.

Eric said, “There’s something fantastic about seeing a couple of guys holding hands like that. I love it when I’m with Aaron and Chase. I sorta feel a little jealous.”

“There’s no way they’d do that even now in my hometown. It sucks, but that’s the way it is. I suppose it’ll change one of these days.”

We both moved to the side so the guys could pass by. One of them was on the muscular side and had a handsome face like a model. The other guy wore big black-framed nerdy glasses and was skinny and tall.

Eric said, “That skinny guy lucked out, didn’t he? Did you see how built that other guy was? He could be modeling underwear in a magazine.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Skinny guys don’t look so bad.” I bit my lip. I did look at guys sometimes, but I didn’t want anybody else to know. I dated women. That’s all I’d ever dated.

“How many skinny guys do you look at, Harley?”

I stopped walking. I felt myself breaking out in a cold sweat. I didn’t know if I wanted to say it out loud, but Eric was already too much of a new friend to lie. I whispered, “A few I guess.”

Eric smiled. He asked, “Can I try something? I won’t do it without you saying it’s okay, and if you don’t like it, I promise to never even think about doing it again.”

“What? You sound a little weird, buddy. What is it?”

“I want it to be a surprise. Don’t worry. It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

I wrinkled up my nose. “I don’t know. Tell me, and I’ll let you know.” I was nervous about what he had in mind. The conversation was already heading in an uncomfortable direction.

Before I could say anything else, Eric stood on his tiptoes, reached a hand behind my neck and planted a kiss square on my lips. It was quick, and he didn’t use tongue, but it was a kiss. He stepped back and stared into my eyes.

“So, what’d you think?”

I scowled. “I could deck you is what I could do, but damn, you’re way too nice of a guy.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Harley.”

I felt the expression soften on my face. “Do I have to be honest?”

“Yeah, you have to be honest, because if my technique sucks, I want to know.”

My jaw locked. My teeth clenched, and I whispered, “It was sweet.”