XXX CHAPTER 6 XXX

Whenever Jasper had more than a quick lunch hour, he'd make the trip to the Duke's near Emmett's building, and they'd couple their lunch chat with a walk on the beach. "Don't tell anyone I said so, but sand and water are the best therapists money can't buy," Jas liked to say.

The Capitol Hill location near Jasper's office had a more urban vibe; you'd find more Armani suits than bathing suits, and the service was more efficient than the beachfront spot. Either way, Emmett enjoyed the clam chowder and casual atmosphere. The manager recognized him right away and tucked him away in a corner where he wouldn't be pestered—or hopefully even noticed. When Jasper arrived promptly at noon, he was led back without ceremony.

Emmett stood and gave his sister's husband a full-hug, half-slap greeting before dropping onto the edge of his chair, where he sat tense and stiff while Jasper arranged his napkin in his lap. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."

"It's a Smiley Joe day, huh?" Jasper was sneaking analytical glances and measuring Emmett's mental state.

Emmett shrugged. "How's Alice?"

"She's fine. Busy. She has two weddings this weekend."

"Business is booming."

"Yes, love is in the air. Do you know what you're having?" Jas asked, perusing the menu.

"Crab cakes and chowder."

Without really looking at anything, he closed his menu. "Sounds good. Okay, why are we here?'

"They have the best chowder in Seattle?"

"Mmhmm, right." Jasper folded his hands on the table and tipped his head at an unnatural the-doctor-is-in angle. "Are you doing okay over that whole perfect game fiasco? That had to suck big, sweaty balls."

An ugly laugh escaped Emmett. "Are you trying to get me excited here?"

"Is it working?" he answered, grinning.

"Not particularly. And no, it's not that. I mean yes, it did suck pretty hard, but I'm okay."

The waiter came by and took their orders, thankfully without any star-struck nonsense. Jasper perched forward in his chair.

"Emmett, what is it? Is it your shoulder again?"

"No, Jas. The arm's fine. This isn't anything physical." Emmett gave him a pleading glance he knew Jasper would understand. He hated asking for help, especially of the roll-over-and-let-me-crawl-inside-your-head variety.

"Okay. I'm listening."

God bless Jasper Whitlock. "I'm not sure where to begin. Have you seen the news coverage lately, the Twitter guy?"

"Of course. 69 fanatic. Jesus, is he stalking you?"

Emmett laughed, but it came out dark and hollow. "If anything, I think I'm stalking him at this point."

"Sorry, you lost me."

Emmett drew in a deep breath. "He and I have been chatting a bit, actually kind of a lot—for me."

"Dammit, Em. Do I need to give you my lecture on internet safety? You know that's dangerous, right?"

"It is, but not for the reason you think."

"How's that? Is there some new internet scam I don't know about?"

"Yes. It's called attraction." There. It's out now. Wasn't he supposed to feel better? He felt a little better, but he also felt a little worse.

Jasper's eyebrows popped up. "Ohhhhhhh. So you've been 'chat-ting'?" The last word was punctuated by dramatic finger quotes and a lecherous wink.

"Good god, you're a train wreck. People actually pay you for your advice?"

"I'm sorry," Jasper said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You're all over the place. I can't keep up. Okay, I'm gonna shut up now. Please continue."

Emmett laughed. "Believe me, I have been feeling the same way. Like somebody may have moved my center of gravity." As the words left his mouth, Emmett realized exactly how dangerous his disorientation could be. Pitching required a firm balance.

"Exactly what have you and this fan of yours been talking about?"

"Nothing really. Baseball, mostly. Locker rooms . . . Star Trek."

"Stop. Rewind. Locker rooms? What about them?"

"When I offered to meet him somewhere—sort of hypothetically but not really—he asked if he could visit the Mariners' locker room."

"Hmm, that's a fairly eccentric choice."

Emmett chuckled. "Not if you're a gay man with a passion for baseball."

"I'll trust you on that one." Jas leaned forward. "Annnnd?"

"And nothing. He doesn't know—as far as I know. I mean I haven't told him, and we haven't discussed it."

"So what did you say?"

"I told him to come down to the locker room after the game on Thursday."

"Sounds like you're going to meet him in three days," Jas said, sipping his iced tea and giving nothing away with his exasperatingly inscrutable expression.

"Jas, what if the guy is a psycho? Isn't there a term for an obsessive fan?"

"Yes. Fanatic."

"Very funny." Emmett scowled while the waiter set down their food. If anything, Emmett was even more agitated than before. Ravenous from the morning's activities, he forked a full quarter of the crab cake into his mouth. "Okay, why doesn't he show his face? Christ, he could be eighty . . . or fifteen, for all I know. I could go to jail!"

That earned Emmett a pair of raised eyebrows from the good doctor, who was busy stirring the oyster crackers into his chowder. "Do you know many eighty-year-olds with Twitter accounts?"

Emmett ranted on. "He's only given me his first name, and I had to pry it out of him. That's suspicious, no?"

"Some might say 'cautious.'"

Jasper was pushing his buttons, for sure, sticking up for the stranger, causing Emmett to dig even deeper for flaws—and he was quickly running out of ammunition. To buy himself some time, he downed a couple of spoonfuls of chowder while his brother-in-law waited ever so patiently. Aha!

"He's afraid of heights!" There. A bona fide phobia the psychiatrist would be forced to acknowledge.

Jasper narrowed his eyes and gave Emmett a serious nod. "Hmm, in that case, I would definitely stay away from him."

"I knew it!" What should've left him feeling triumphant seemed to have had the exact opposite effect.

"Jesus, Emmett, I was kidding."

"Oh." You are so fucked up, Mac.

Jasper wiped his mouth and tucked the napkin under his soup bowl. "Cut the shit, Em. Why did you really call me?"

"You always buy?" Emmett batted his eyelashes, and the two of them chuckled.

"I'll tell you what I'm hearing. For the last fifteen minutes, you've thrown out every feeble excuse you could think of for staying away from this guy, hoping I'll jump on board. Guess what? It's not working."

"No, I can see that."

Jasper's tone softened. "Emmett, you've repressed your feelings for such a long time, it's become your reality. Enter this stranger,"—Emmett cleared his throat, causing Jasper to roll his eyes—"someone who challenges your carefully constructed bubble, and you're suddenly a quivering mess."

"Is that your professional diagnosis?"

"Yes. Trouble sleeping, stomach upset, distractedness, invasive fantasies . . . any of this sound familiar?"

"There's a certain ring of truth," Emmett said, misery turning down the edges of his mouth.

Jasper smiled. "There's good news here. Your illness has a cure, and I'm pretty sure you know what it is because you are doing your damnedest to run away from it."

"And if I keep running?"

Jasper's warm eyes cradled Emmett as he delivered the verdict with a sad shake of his head. "I wouldn't recommend it."

A torrent of mixed emotions swam between Emmett's ears. He'd always known the day would eventually come when he'd be forced to actively choose between his private life and his career. He just never considered that day might be this Thursday.

Sensing the chaos Emmett was slogging through, Jasper continued. "Please understand, Emmett, I'm no Pollyanna. I get that your career is everything right now, and Major League Baseball isn't exactly running the rainbow banner up the flagpole, but you're one of the top five pitchers in the country at the moment. Surely that currency outstrips whatever genitalia happen to be adorning the person you're screwing."

Emmett's laughter spluttered out. "That is maybe the most unglamorous description of sexual orientation I have ever heard!"

"Shit, you know what I mean. I'm not your agent or your coach or your manager; I'm family—and your unofficial therapist, I suppose."

Emmett couldn't remember ever having a problem he couldn't bring to Jasper. "What's the difference between this and official therapy?"

"Two-fifty an hour." Jasper gave him a grin.

There was no question who pulled in the bigger salary since Emmett signed with the Mariners, but he knew Jas only ever felt pride in Emmett's outrageous success. "Anyway . . ."

"Right. Look, I've kept my mouth shut for all these years because you asked me to, and you know I'd never betray you. But this lonely life of lies is not what I ever would've wanted for you. You seem like you might be into this guy."

"God, Jas, I think I really am. It's stupid, right? We've barely talked, never met . . ."

"What do you know about him?"

"Let's see . . . his first name is Edward. Oh, interesting factoid—he's teaching math at Sawyer's school in the fall."

"What? Wow, this could make for some very interesting parent-teacher conferences."

Emmett chuckled. "Not for a while. He teaches sixth grade."

"Okay, good," Jasper answered, patting his chest. "That could've been a wee bit awkward."

Chucking his napkin onto the table, Emmett leaned back in his chair. "I need to stop this idiotic pining. Who knows if there will even be any chemistry between us?"

"You'll know the second you meet him. But I think you can tell plenty from the written word as well."

Emmett nodded, his heart cautiously tipping toward yes as Jasper continued.

"I've read the interview. I liked what he said and how he said it. He's protective of you."

"He is." A surge of warmth for Edward bubbled in Emmett's chest.

"Good. So give him a chance."

"He has over twenty-five thousand followers now. One little tweet, and I'm a goner."

"Maybe," Jas replied. "And maybe you could be happy—truly happy—for the first time in your life. How long have you been hiding, Em? Since that birthday party in second grade? It might be time to actually be with the person you want to be with—out in the open."

"Ugh, thanks for reminding me about my seven minutes in hell."

"Pshh, Bella's not that bad."

"You're an asshole, Jas."

"So you tell me every time we get together." Jasper grinned and signaled for the check.

"Thanks for lunch, I guess."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Jas said. "This guy might look like Quasimodo. Problem solved."

Author's Note: Yup, easy peasy. :) It's been too many chapters since I thanked my back office- Jayme, LadyV, Shad, Shell, and of course Chayasara for all the help-both large and smaller. I remember Shell pointing out in this chapter (with one of her sweet questions-as-comments) that I'd originally cast Jasper as Emmett's brother, who was now married to Emmett's sister. Born don't play that way. And this is why we have pre-readers, folks (and delete buttons). *WINK*

ALSO, muchas gracias to everyone who voted "Benched" into the top ten completed fics of March. Your love for these boys keeps me writing. And your reviews keep me smiling. So what'd you think of Jasper's advice? New England Clam Chowdah or Manhattan?
XXX ~BOH