“Well, you’re about to make me the best teacher around. What’s your email address? I’ll send you the Zoom link.”
“It’s Drew24baseball at gmail dot com.”
“Twenty-four? Is that your number?”
“Sure is. Thankfully, I’m able to keep it too.”
“I bet it took on a whole new meaning after Kobe passed,” I say, somber.
“You have no idea. I chose twenty-four because of Ken Griffey Jr. and Rickey Henderson. After hearing Kobe chose it because he said it took twenty-four/seven to make it, I loved it even more. He’s right. It’s a never-ending grind, and you have to love it enough to push harder.”
“You really love it, don’t you?”
“Every. Damn. Second,” he says with a pleased sigh.
I smile at his statement.
“Okay, I lied. Except the interview parts,” he corrects.
I laugh. “Go get ready. I’ll be watching.”
“And the nerves keep getting stronger. You’re not very good at this, you know.”
“Go get ’em, big boy!” I holler. “I’ll send you the link too. Zoom is at eleven. I’ll text you when it’s okay to get on, so I can get through the important stuff, and then you’ll be the surprise at the end.”
“I like being a surprise.”
“You’ve been my surprise through all of this,” I say with a grin.
“And you’re mine. See you soon. Bye,” he says.
And what is it about the way that guys saybyethat turns me on so much? It’s like this level of anticipation that keeps you waiting for more until you talk to them next. And damn, he says the bestbyefor sure.
After I hang up, I call my sister, Shelly. I told her I met a guy, but I failed to fill her in on who this guy even is.
“Hey,” she says as she answers the phone. “What’s going on?”
“Is Matthew around?” I ask.
“Ha! Where’s he supposed to be besides home?” she taunts.
I shake my head at my sister’s words. “I meant, is he near you?”
“He’s in his room. Do you want me to get him?”
“Yeah, go get him and put me on speakerphone.”
I hear her walking through the house as she heads toward his room.
“Okay, he’s with me. What’s up?” she asks.
“Shelly, do you remember the guy I told you I met on Tinder the other day?” I ask.
“Um, not sure if Matthew should be hearing this, so please proceed with caution,” Shelly says in her most motherly tone.
“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad,” I plead.
“Don’t make me remind you about that last guy you dated,” she says through a laugh.
