The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(44)

Behind him, Thea’s quiet voice broke the silence as she told Amelia to close her eyes and dream good dreams. A thick wall of emotion clogged his throat. A few minutes later, Amelia’s bed creaked as Thea stood. Then her petite silhouette cast a shadow over Ava’s bed. Gavin rolled his head to peer up at her. She stubbornly refused to meet his gaze as she leaned over to peer at Ava.

“She fell asleep fast,” he whispered.

Thea pressed the back of her hand to Ava’s forehead for a moment and then did the same thing to her cheeks. “Neither of them has a fever.”

Gavin had long ago stopped asking how Thea knew for sure. The best thermometer is a mother’s hand. He knew that Gran Gran–ism by heart now. And it was always proven right. Thea probably knew the girls’ normal temperatures better than her own.

With a weary sigh, she straightened. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Gavin eased onto his back, careful not to wake Ava as he removed his arm from her waist. “I’ll clean up the bathroom.”

Thea grimaced. “I forgot about that. I’ll do it since you handled the other one.”

“I got it, honey. Go take a shower.”

She blinked and stiffened at honey. “I said I’d do it,” she said, obstinately refusing to accept even the smallest olive branch.

“Christ, Thea. Can’t I even offer to help without it becoming a fight?”

Ava stirred at his sharp voice. Thea shot him a dirty look. “Fine. Clean the bathroom.”

She stomped out of the room. Gavin swallowed another blasphemy. By the time he was done with the bathroom, the shower had stopped running, but he needed a time-out before he attempted to talk to her again. He stalked to the guest room to change into running clothes. The only thing that was going to ease the tension in his muscles was the pound of the pavement and a dripping sweat.

Gavin carried the trash downstairs and threw it into the bin in the garage. Butter followed forlornly and flopped onto the kitchen floor.

“She shut you out too, huh?” Gavin crouched and scratched the dog’s ears. Butter thumped his tail and sighed. Yep. Just a couple of dudes licking their wounds after the alpha in the house let loose a vicious bark.

Gavin whistled for Butter to follow him to the front door. At the sight of Gavin reaching for his leash, Butter started bouncing on his front paws and yipping. Gavin tugged a wool skull cap over his hair, grabbed a pair of gloves, and headed out. He thought briefly about going back in to tell Thea where he was headed, but he was still just pissed enough to know they both needed some space.

Outside, the crisp air was a slap to his lungs and forced him to take his first deep breath in hours. He followed his normal route, hating life for the first ten minutes as he always did when running. Just because he was a professional athlete didn’t mean he actually enjoyed running. It was a necessary evil. But his body finally adapted to the punishing pace and fell into the zone. Tension eased from his shoulders with every stride. Butter kept pace, tail wagging, tongue flopping, and apparently forgiving him for shoving him outside earlier. At least someone forgave him.

Gavin ran for two miles until he came to one of the city recreational parks. He slowed to a walk and stopped at the baseball field nearest the parking lot. A chain-link fence encircled the diamond, and two dugouts flanked home plate. The lights over the field were dark now, but streetlamps from the parking lot illuminated the dusty infield and the worn, eroded hill of the pitcher’s mound. Gavin sat down on the cold bleachers, which, come summer, would be filled with parents and grandparents who all thought their kids were the cutest and most talented to ever play the game.

He’d spent most of his youth at fields like this, and it was at those dusty fields where people first started to notice and whisper about him for something other than his stutter. Where coaches began to gather and say, “Is that him?” Where scouts eventually began to show up in college sweatshirts to introduce themselves to his parents and watch for proof that the kid from an Ohio suburb was as good as everyone said he was.

One-in-a-million chance. That’s what they always said. It was a one-in-a-million chance that he’d get to the Majors someday. But once the dream was planted in his head, Gavin wanted nothing else. Nothing was going to stop him. He would work harder than anyone else because out there, on those grubby fields, he was more than the kid who couldn’t read aloud in class. More than the boy who was too nervous to talk to girls.

Butter flopped to the ground at Gavin’s feet with a pant. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text from Thea.

Did you leave?

Fuck. He should have told her. He thumbed a quick answer. I went for a run.

Seconds passed before the dancing dots indicated she was responding. Don’t lock the door when you get back. Liv won’t be home until late, and Butter will bark if she has to use her key. I’m going to bed.

The cold unspoken message was clear: Don’t even think about a good-night kiss.

He was fucking this up.

Before he could change his mind, Gavin called up his recent calls list and scrolled to find his parents’ number. His father answered on the third ring, voice heavy with sleep.

“Hey, old man,” Gavin teased. “Sleeping off the turkey?”

“Just dozing,” his dad said. “Waiting for your mom to get home.”

“Where is she?”