22. Grant

Clearly, this isn't the time to toss out the big question that's been poking at me since the night I was hit. Declan is quiet after breakfast with his dad, and I'm not going to rock his boat by saying, "Hey, something big has been on my mind for the last couple weeks. Want to chat?"

I don't fill every second of silence on the way home with my need to talk, talk, talk. That's something I've been learning—when to talk, when to listen. When to give Declan some space to figure out what's in his head.

Once we return to our house, he asks if I want to go to the gym. "Like the good old days, when we were just workout buddies," he says, with a sly grin.

Ah, he's back. That's my guy.

"But these are the good new days too," I point out. "And the answer is yes to the gym. Obviously. I've always liked checking you out in shorts. Favor though?"

"Yes?" Declan asks as we head upstairs to change.

"Can you go shirtless?"

"Anything for you. Especially since these are definitely the better days."

The question will have to wait for another day.

On Saturday we both have night games, but we spend the day together. First, we head to my sister's bar in Hayes Valley to grab a bite to eat. When we walk in, Sierra flashes a welcoming grin. "Lucky me. I've got a star athlete in the Spotted Zebra... as well as my brother," she says, setting down napkins in front of us at the counter.

Declan smiles. "Dragons fans are my fave," he says.

"What can I get the Dragons shortstop? Anything you want is on the house. But the Cougar will have to pay," she tells him with a flick of her pink-streaked blonde hair.

I roll my eyes. "Sheesh. Family."

Declan orders a chicken sandwich, I ask for a burger, then Deck raises a finger. "That's it for food. But what I really want, Sierra, is a fantastic story about Grant as a kid."

My sister bats her lashes, her brown eyes twinkling with delight. "How about the time when he was six, ran naked through the sprinkler in the front lawn, then down the street, all the way to the end of the block, where Grandpa finally caught him and carried him back, naked as a jaybird, over his shoulder?"

"That's what inspired Pops to start training for marathons," I add.

Declan slow claps. "Best story ever."

After we eat and say goodbye to my sister, our next stop is the Alliance for a game day. River and Owen meet us in the lobby, and after the requisite hellos, our quartet heads to the games room, sinks onto the couches and joins the regular crew.

"Hey, Jason," Declan says to the quarterback.

"Good to see you again, man, and prepared to be annihilated," Jason replies as he grabs a controller.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Declan says with extra bravado.

After a few rounds of NBA 2K, we switch gears to Plants vs. Zombies, then dive into Minecraft. Declan is shit at most of them, but I'm worse and Jason takes us to task.

"G-man, you and your dude need to work on your skills," Jason says when he destroys me.

"I'll see if I can add it to my schedule along with catching nearly one hundred sixty-two games," I say.

"Excuses, excuses," River calls out as he and Owen lead their team to victory.

"Clearly we're just going to have to work harder at Xbox instead of the batter's box," Declan tells me. He turns to Jason. "I might need lessons," he says, then lowers his voice to a stage whisper, pointing to me, "But Grant needs them more."

"True that," Jason says.

After one more round, Declan and I say our goodbyes, and Jason does too. The three of us head to the exit, and on the way out, I shoot the quarterback an expectant look, figuring the timing of his exit isn't entirely coincidence. "So... how did everything go?"

He flashes me a grin. "It went pretty well, actually." Jason turns to Declan, to add, "I came out to my teammates a week ago. During summer practice."

My boyfriend's eyes light up. "That's awesome." Declan lifts a hand to high-five him, and Jason smacks back.

"I'm stoked for you," I add.

"And listen," Jason says, his expression turning serious. "You guys being out, being together, it's... awesome. It means a lot to me. So, thank you."

Declan claps Jason on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Jason nods a few times. "I think I am too."

Yup, now is the time to ask.

This is it, this is it, this is it.

This is the perfect opportunity.

Before I start up my Tesla a few minutes later, I turn to Declan and jump off the cliff. "Do you want to have kids?"

He blinks and jerks back. "What?"

"Do you?" I ask, nerves threaded through my tone.

"I..." He doesn't complete the sentence. His mouth just hangs open.

I fill the silence. "Because we can, you know. We can adopt from a ton of countries. We can adopt domestically. We can foster. There are a lot of options."

"Yes, I'm aware," Declan says, taking his time with each word. His brow knits. "But, Grant... do you mean now?"

Oh, hell.

Maybe I shouldn't have dived into the deep end. "No! Shit. Sorry. I don't mean now. I mean down the road. Someday," I say, sweeping out my hand as if to indicate the distant future so I don't freak him the fuck out. "Not for a while. Not when we're both traveling all the time and in the prime of our careers."

"Okay. Whew. I thought you meant now, and honestly, the answer to that would be no."

"Same here," I say, quickly—maybe too quickly. "But..." I take a breath, and it feels like I'm drowning. I try to swim up. "Someday?"

Declan parts his lips, drags a hand through his hair. "Why are you asking now?"

"I don't know," I say, backpedaling.

He reaches for my hand, runs his fingers across my knuckles. "You do. You think things through. You research them. Then you blurt them out."

This man knows me too well. I sigh, dipping my head, like I've been caught stealing.

"Have you been researching gay couple adoption?" he asks, like he can read my mind.

I raise my face and man up. "Yes. I like to be prepared."

A sliver of a smile shifts his lips, then disappears. "What's making you think about that? We haven't even talked about..." He gestures from him to me.

He doesn't say marriage.

I don't either.

It feels like the most taboo word in the world.

And I don't want to tread on taboo right now. But I do want him to know my heart. "Talking to Jason got the ball rolling. He made a comment a few weeks ago that I was good with talking to him. That I'd make a good dad. And then your mom coming to help me. It just felt so right. The way she took care of me, and I feel like I could do that really well for another person. For a kid." I drag a hand roughly through my hair, feeling wired with tension. "Am I freaking you out?"

Declan takes a beat.

A beat too long.

"I am," I say firmly. "I'm freaking you out."

He squeezes my hand. "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes. Now please. I'm dying."

Declan draws a breath, maybe to fortify himself to deliver bad news. "The truth is, I honestly never thought about kids till this second," he says calmly, neutrally. "I didn't give it a second thought because I have such a shitty relationship with my father. I never let myself go there. I didn't even imagine being a dad, because I have no role model. No idea how to do it well. So, it never entered my mind as a possibility."

"Okay," I say, breathing evenly again. That's not bad news. "That makes sense."

"But you've thought about this?" Declan presses.

"Yes," I say on a shuddery breath.

"And do you want to?"

Nerves flood me. If I tell him the truth, will I lose him? Is our life together going to come down to him or kids?

I could answer him with maybe. Hedge my bets a bit.

But then, I got hit in the head by a pitch and I'm still here. I was outed in high school and I'm still here. I nearly lost this man and I'm here. I didn't reach this point in my life by denying my truth. I arrived here by speaking it.

"I think I do, Declan. I would like to have a family someday. Not today, not tomorrow. Not even next year or the one after that. But after baseball, you know? When I think about life after baseball, I think about family. And I would like, someday, to be a father."

That was one of the hardest things I've ever said.

But as soon as those words pass my lips for the first time, they feel so right, so true. And so does loving Declan, and I desperately want my two wishes—him and a family—to mesh.

"You're going to be a great dad," he says, warmth in his tone.

But he doesn't say with me. He doesn't say we'll be great dads.

My heart beats too fast. Too uncomfortably.

Maybe he needs my faith in him to get there. "I think you would too," I offer, even as my chest twists with fear of losing him.

Declan smiles softly, then shrugs. "I don't know."

I walk the tightrope of the next question. "You don't know if you'd be a good dad or if you want to have kids?"

"I don't know if I'd be such a good dad," he says, then squeezes my hand harder, and I'm so glad he didn't write off kids yet. "But I also never thought about being a dad till now. So can I ask you for something?"

"Anything."

"Will you give me time to think about it?"

"Of course," I say, half-relieved, half-terrified.

"Thank you," he says, then hauls me in for a kiss.

A sweet, tender kiss that settles my nerves.

Some of them.

When he breaks the kiss, he slides a thumb along my jaw. "We're okay, right?"

"Yeah, of course," I say, with a laugh. "What else would we be?"

"Just making sure," he says.

"We're fantastic."

Except when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you kind of want to fast forward time to his answer and find out if the rest of your life is going to look the same to him as it does to you.