“Hi. What do you need at this hour?”
“I just got a message from Linnea. Are you alright?”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “Why is my ex texting you at nearly midnight?”
“Ex?”
“Ja. We ended things this week.”
“Well, she said she hadn’t heard from you and was worried about your well-being. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m in bed, at home,alone, trying to sleep, if you don’t mind. And she can’t get through to me because I blocked her number. She was… quite intense when I broke up with her. After three days and literally dozens of messages, I blocked her.”
Kasper hummed. “Very well then. I’m sure I’ll speak to you soon. I’ll tell Linnea that you’re well and she should speak to you directly.”
“Thanks, Kasper. God natt.” I ended the call, turned my phone on silent and closed my eyes once again, hoping for nothing other than dreams of America.
Chapter Three
Jared
Afewdaysafterthat call with Matty, I came home from work and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted from a day spent leading a one-day kickball summer camp for middle schoolers unexpectedly. My original kickball instructor, a college-aged girl we had working at the parks and rec office over the summer, had called out sick the night before, and nobody else knew enough about the game to teach it all day. I’d been the one to draw the short straw, and now I could barely think, I was so tired. It wasn’t the game that wore me down. It was the twenty-five eleven-to-thirteen-year-old kids I’d had to keep up with all day. I really needed to make my music career happen—and soon.
I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, hoping to find something mind-numbing to entertain me while I sipped a beer and worked on a song for my next album. I finally settled on a reality TV channel and let the background noise wash over me as I wrote, humming and tapping between scribbling down lyrics.
“Are you planning to get married within the next year?”
I glanced up at the TV and frowned, furrowing my brow. There was a graphic for a show calledDestination Loveemblazoned across the screen.
“Interested couples should submit a three-minute audition tape to…”
I rolled my eyes. Going on a wedding reality show sounded like torture. I ignored the show, tapping my pencil again a few times before something else caught my attention.
“…immigrate to America.”
I blinked a few times as my brain tried to catch up to what I’d just heard. Immigrate?Maybe having Matty find an American woman to marry wasn’t so far-fetched after all.I chuckled and shook my head before turning off the TV. The silence was too much, though, so I stood up and trudged my way to bed.
Lucky for me, the next day was significantly less busy. I spent my time at work processing permits and reservations, working on a community engagement plan to pump up our numbers for fall sports, and reviewing the budget. I spent my lunch break continuing to work on the song I’d been toying with the night before, but the real highlight of my day was kickball practice.
Out and Kickin’—the gay kickball team I was on—was comprised of my closest friends outside of Matty, guys I’d played kickball with for years. We’d met in our early twenties and had immediately hit it off. There were six of us who were the core players, with a cast of temps rotating in and out over the years, though we’d had two guys join us more recently and they’d fit right in.
When I got to the field, I found my friends slowly convening in the dugout of the baseball field we typically played on. Ethan and Archer, our newest players, were stretching on the field. Cam, Theo, and Bennett were huddled together, leaning in and looking at someone’s phone. The bag of kickballs was open and sitting to the side of the dugout, looking forgotten, and the guys who were watching the phone all gasped simultaneously.
I cleared my throat and clapped loudly as I approached. “Come on, children, let’s get going.” Only Ethan and Archer looked at me. Cam, Theo, and Bennett were used to my insistence on focus. We practiced two or three nights a week year-round, not to mention the games during the actual structured spring and fall league seasons.
A moment later, Levi came around the corner. “Hey, guys.”
I sighed with relief. Levi was one of the more serious players on our team. He’d get them to focus, I was sure of it.
To my chagrin, instead of getting the guys’ attention, he rushed over. “Is that the new episode? You were supposed to wait so we could have a watch party!”
I narrowed my eyes and marched over, tempted to snatch the phone from their hands. “What is goingon?”
“Destination Loveis new tomorrow,” Levi said without looking up. “Andtheseassholes decided to watch the season recap without me.”
“Destination Love?Is that that stupid wedding show?”
Bennett tapped the screen to pause the stream and looked up at me. “Destination Loveisnota stupid wedding show.”
