Caught Running (22 page)
Brandon groaned and covered his eyes as he leaned against the dugout fence. Another error. What a nightmare. They were down 9-1, 7 hits to 1, zero errors to 4. The kids were dejected when they jogged in from the field for the last inning. Brandon glanced to Jake. His jaw was visibly grinding and his left eye was twitching.
There wasn't much a coach could do for a team in a game like this. Jake leaned against the dugout wall in the far corner and stood glaring out at the field, the kids giving him a wide berth.
Watching as the terrible game ended, Brandon urged the players out to walk the line to offer the other team congratulations, and he had quiet words with their senior pitcher, who was about to have a shit fit in the dugout. After a minute or so of Brandon's reasoning, the kid nodded and joined the end of the line before mutely returning to pack up his gear. The assistant coach directed them to the bus immediately, knowing none of them wanted to stick around any longer than they had to.
Brandon stood at the door to the bus as the kids climbed in, and blanched as he saw Misty and a passel of cheerleaders approaching as Jake loaded gear into the bus storage compartments. Shit. This had disaster written all over it.
Jake chucked the bat bag into the compartment and straightened, reaching up to close the heavy door when he saw the woman coming toward him out of the corner of his eye. He growled under his breath and pushed the door down and shoved his shoulder into it to shut it, pretending he didn't see her.
Brandon swallowed hard. This was likely to be very, very ugly. For Misty, anyway. He jogged over to Jake, speaking loudly enough that the woman approaching could hear. “Hey, Coach, Jeremy needs to talk to you on the bus, some kind of minor meltdown,” he said, voice deep with concern. For Jake, but hey, it worked. He glanced up to see Misty faltering. At least she had some decency where the kids were concerned.
"Coming,” Jake grunted in relief, turning his back on Misty as if he had never even noticed her.
Raising a hand to wave at Misty as though he'd just seen her, Brandon took a few seconds to shut the other storage compartments and shoo the last couple of players onto the bus. He climbed in last and sat in the front seat across from where Jake sat in the driver's seat. “Let's get out of here before she decides to climb on and ride back with us,” he muttered.
Jake closed the bus doors quickly and then glanced over his shoulder at Brandon. “We got a count?” he asked.
Brandon nodded, still counting caps back through the bus. “Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. We're good, Jake,” he answered in a low tone.
Jake put the idling bus in gear and nodded silently, driving out of the parking lot without saying another word. The kids all knew they were going to get an earful at some point. The bus was sedate, almost silent, and when the kids did speak, they did so in hushed tones. Finally when the bus was on the highway, Jake glanced over his shoulder at Brandon and muttered, “Thanks for that back there."
"You didn't need to deal with her shit after this afternoon,” Brandon answered, sitting on the edge of the front seat closest to Jake, voice raised just enough to be heard over the road noise.
"It always worries me,” Jake murmured in return, his eyes still on the road, “when she's followed by the girls. It usually means she's come up with something official-sounding. Last time it was a date auction to raise money."
Brandon blinked. “A
date
auction? Like a date with a
student
?” he asked in disbelief.
"Students bidding on students, community members bidding on teachers.” Jake practically shivered as he spoke.
Stunned, Brandon stared at Jake's profile. “How did I miss this? When was it?"
"It never happened. Apparently I wasn't the only one horrified by the prospect,” Jake answered wryly.
Relaxing in relief, Brandon shook his head. “Students bidding on students. Yeah, that would have been a
wonderful
idea. Why not do a slave auction instead?” he asked cynically, remembering such a fraternity function in college.
Jake just shook his head and pulled his right hand off the big steering wheel of the bus, resting it in his lap as he drove. It was days like this that he began to wonder if maybe quitting would do him more good than sticking with it.
Sitting back again, Brandon shifted to lean against the window so he could look at Jake without turning his head. He looked tired and upset, and it was no real surprise. Sighing, Brandon rubbed his eyes with one hand. He had more grading to do tonight, and a couple of tests to make, and he really, really needed to get a run in after skipping the last couple of days. He glanced out the window. Maybe another half hour and they'd be back at the school. He could be home by 10 p.m., go for a run, make the tests and do a little grading, crash about 2. He could do the rest of the grading during tutoring in the morning.
Unless he didn't sleep at all, too busy thinking about Jake.
Brandon pulled the Jetta into Jake's driveway. It was 9:10, about what he'd figured, and he had no idea what to say. On one hand, he certainly wanted to stay. He should just come out and ask, but after the depressing tone of the last few hours, he found he couldn't be that bold. So he turned to look at Jake, whose face was shrouded in darkness. “Get some rest,” he murmured. “We'll pick the game apart tomorrow."
Jake turned his head just slightly, not quite looking at Brandon, but not looking away either as he sat in the passenger seat. Well, that was a pretty good indication that Brandon wasn't planning on staying the night, he thought. He gave a little nod and reached for the door handle, dreading when opening the door would turn the overhead light on.
He wanted to lean over and kiss Jake, and he even reached out, but Brandon stopped his hand and dropped it to the gear shift. Jake wasn't shy. Surely if he wanted him to stay, he would say something.
Jake hesitated a moment, closing his eyes and telling himself to just ask Brandon to stay. He hurt all over, and he was tried and cranky and pretty damn miserable, and all he wanted was someone warm to hold him tonight. He gave a glance back and saw Brandon's hand on the gear shift, waiting for him to get out of the car so he could head home. Jake sighed to himself and gave another little nod. “Thanks for the ride,” he said before opening the door and climbing out of the car gingerly. “Have a good night,” he added, leaning over to grab his bag, then closed the door before Brandon could see how torn he was over letting him go home alone.
Brandon almost blurted out something, anything, to stop him, but then Jake was walking away from the car and climbing up the steps to the house. Waiting until he saw Jake was inside, Brandon backed the car out and started driving, on autopilot the whole way home as the scene played over and over in his head. When he got there and stopped in the driveway, he lowered his head to the steering wheel and thwapped it a couple times. He got inside with his backpack and papers, tossed them all on the table and looked right at the phone.
Right at it.
Resisting, he went to the laundry room, stripped down and pulled on running shorts and a T-shirt. And he looked at the phone. He headed back to the bedroom for his trainers and stopped dead in his tracks. The bed sheets were still a mess from their romp yesterday.
Brandon couldn't resist any longer. He snatched up the cordless and dialed Jake's number. As the line buzzed, he berated himself for acting like a middle school girl, but he couldn't bring himself to hang up.
The phone rang just as Jake stepped out of the shower. He'd already done his nightly pills and beer regimen, and the shower was just hot enough to make him languid and sleepy. He took his time getting to the phone, a towel slung over his shoulder as he dripped on the floor.
"Hello?” he answered sedately, not even remembering to check the caller ID first.
Brandon's eyes immediately fell closed as arousal ripped through him. He'd last heard that tone in Jake's bed, in Jake's arms, before they'd fallen asleep last night. “Hey,” he rasped.
Jake blinked in surprise. “Brandon?” he asked in confusion, looking at his wrist to see what time it was and belatedly realizing he didn't have a watch on. Had he even had time to get home? “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
No. No, I'm not. Not when I'm here and you're there
. “Yeah, I'm okay. I just wanted to, ah, check and see if your knee was okay.” Brandon winced. What a stupid thing to say. He turned and pushed his face against the wall.
Jake blinked stupidly again, frowning at the odd tone of Brandon's voice but not able to figure out quite what was wrong with it. “Uh,” he answered as soon as he realized that he needed to say something, “it's doing about the same as usual."
"Right,” Brandon answered, then he caught himself. “I mean, sorry about that. I guess you've taken the painkillers and all.” He was standing there shuffling in his own bedroom. God. Could he get any
more
pathetic? He'd been just
fine
when they were together.
"Yeah,” Jake answered guiltily, blushing a bit as he drip-dried beside the bed. He'd never felt guilty for his nightly painkiller regimen before; why should he now?
"Okay,” Brandon said, at a loss for what to say but unwilling to give up the tenuous connection over the dead air.
Jake waited, frowning harder now and wishing he had just kicked himself into asking Brandon to stay. Even if Brandon hadn't wanted to, he probably would have, right? And if he was calling now, maybe he hadn't wanted to go home after all. “You should've stayed,” he blurted.
Brandon's stomach rolled and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I wanted to,” he admitted.
Jake was silent, the missed opportunity curling in his chest painfully. “We really need to work on our communication skills,” he finally said flatly.
"I agree,” Brandon said, voice strained. He turned and leaned against the wall, sliding down until he squatted, face turned down to the floor. “I just haven't got the greatest confidence, I guess,” he murmured.
"Me either,” Jake muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his still wet body. He sighed heavily and pulled the towel off his shoulder to begin patting at his skin. “Sorta stupid considering what we did all weekend, huh?"
Brandon groaned. “As much as I appreciate the thought, don't remind me, okay?” He sighed. “I thought about you all the way home, how I should have said something, how I should have at least kissed you good night."
Jake's lips twitched, and he lowered his head. Telephones made some people say things they wouldn't normally say. For Jake, though, he was probably less likely to say what he wanted if he was saying it to a mouthpiece. He bit his lip, sliding his toe across the floor as he tried to force his tongue to form a response. “You should have,” he eventually replied.
Fuck. Brandon wanted to get right back into the damn car and drive there right the hell now. “I'll keep that in mind,” he said in a hoarse voice. He was never going to sleep now. Not without a massive jerk-off first.
Jake smiled slightly at the sound of Brandon's voice. “I thought about you until the water went cold,” he said on impulse, blushing even as he spoke.
"Jesus Christ, Jake!” The voice that rasped was obviously strained. “I'm not going to be able to run with my cock this damn hard."
Jake's lips twitched into another smile, and he licked his lips. He really enjoyed the idea that just a phone call had excited Brandon. “You should have thought ahead,” he scolded, his voice just a bit lower than normal.
Brandon groaned audibly. “The
wrong
head is doing all the thinking,” he muttered. “But I'm still glad I called."
"Me, too,” Jake responded as he dropped his towel and shivered involuntarily. “You really going running?” he asked, not even sure why he asked. What, did he want Brandon to stay on the phone with him until he fell asleep? Jesus.
Sighing, Brandon sank the rest of the way to the floor. He wanted to lie. He didn't want to expose himself so much. But “I'd rather stay here and talk to you” was what came out.
Jake shivered again as he sat on the edge of the bed. He shook slightly now, but he wasn't certain exactly why. He considered asking if Brandon was willing to drive back to his house and stay there. He had to make the drive in the morning anyway, right? But he didn't dare admit how selfish he really was. “I'm not sure how long I'll last,” he murmured instead, rubbing his eyes as he said it. “I'd feel guilty for keeping you."
Brandon felt flushed all over. “You sound really tired. I'm going to go for a short run, then grade some papers,” he said, though he felt rather resigned about it. Maybe he'd just curl up in the sheets and see if he could still catch Jake's scent. “Get some sleep, okay?"
"My pillows still smell like you,” Jake told Brandon with a small smile. “Should be easy to sleep."
Aw. Hell. “Bastard,” Brandon muttered. “Good night."
"Night, Brandon,” Jake murmured, his knee bouncing nervously. “I'm glad you called,” he added with a tinge of relief.
"Me too,” Brandon said, then forced himself to pull the phone away from his ear and push the button to end the call. He clutched the cordless between his hands and pressed it to his forehead, feeling more alone than ever. Dragging himself up, he looked at the bed. Within a few seconds’ time he had decided, dropping the phone and crawling into the sheets to curl up there and just remember and dream.
Jake heard the line go dead and sighed heavily as he looked down at the receiver and shut it off. There was something about Brandon's voice that always left him feeling empty when it was no longer there.
