6. James
6
JAMES
APRIL
Oh boy, I’ve been waiting for this. It’s our chance to have one crazy night before we start the season. This is our first and only full weekend off, and I want to make the most of it.
After a particularly grueling final training and a quick shower, I grab my phone and shoot a quick text to Ethan.
I got beer. Meet at yours?
He replies almost instantly.
Sounds good, come whenever
Perfect. Now I have to change and get my ass to his room. Ever since I crashed there a few weeks ago, Ethan’s room has become our default hangout spot. He has a bigger TV than I do, so one day, I brought my video game console over and set it up while he was in the shower.
Worst decision of my life. My Call of Duty win streak came to a dramatic and abrupt end, never to be resurrected, the minute Ethan got his hands on one of my controllers.
But we’re on the same side tonight, and I want to have fun with Ethan and the team. I plug my phone into the charger and head straight for the closet, grabbing my favorite pair of jeans and a simple button-down. Smoothing the fabric across my chest, I put my shirt on and then run some gel through my hair before checking the mirror one last time.
I walk up to Ethan’s door and knock, rocking on the heels of my sneakers. It’s only a couple of seconds before I hear movement. The door opens, and Ethan is standing there in a t-shirt and sweats.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a small smile.
“Let’s get the night started,” I reply, pulling a pack of beer out of my bag and thrusting it into Ethan’s arms. “Crack one of these open while you get dressed.”
He wrests a can out from the pack and heads into his room.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” I ask, following him inside.
Ethan tosses me a can and shrugs. “No clue. I thought you were gonna do the planning.”
That’s true, I did promise that earlier. I’m always the social planner, and that’s my role wherever I go. Grinning, I take a swig of beer. “Just you wait. But you need to get dressed first. You’re not wearing sweatpants to the bar.”
Ethan scoffs. “What, this isn’t good enough for a night out?”
“Come on. We’re in Florida. Let’s find something decent for you.”
“Dude, I was kidding. Besides, I’m pretty sure I can find something for myself.”
Too late. I’m already standing in front of his closet. I open it, and it’s empty. Jerking my head over to Ethan, I fix him with a confused, questioning stare.
“I packed my stuff already,” he says, opening a suitcase. “We have to be out of here by Sunday, anyway.”
“Of course you’ve already packed.” I peer into his suitcase and run my hands through the neatly folded clothes. In contrast, my room is an unmitigated disaster right now, and I’m trying not to think about it.
Ethan smirks and takes another sip of beer. “Well, someone has to be organized between the two of us.”
Did Ethan just chirp me? Am I hearing things right? No matter what else happens, tonight is gonna rule.
My search through Ethan’s suitcase continues, but I’m met with an endless sea of solid colors and way too many plaid shirts. What the hell, does Ethan work as a lumberjack in the off-season or something?
I settle on a dark green polo and a pair of light-wash jeans, fishing them out and setting them on the bed.
“Try these. I didn’t have much to work with.”
Ethan gives me a tiny smile before he grabs the clothes and heads into the bathroom to change.
A few seconds later, Ethan comes back out, and damn, he looks great. Those jeans fit him way too well, and the polo highlights his athletic physique. The color also makes his eyes stand out. Sheesh. Ethan’s gonna get so much attention, it’s not even funny.
He glances up at me, eyebrows raised. “So? How do I look?”
“Amazing.”
Ethan raises an eyebrow, half-skeptical. “You think so?”
“Oh, I know so. Trust me, you’ll be popular tonight.”
“Popular? With who?”
Is he kidding me right now?
“From women, of course. Who else, the team?”
Seriously, I wasn’t expecting to spell it out for him like that.
Ethan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see about that.”
My eyes narrow. “We’re leaving Tampa in two days. We aren’t in Vegas, but I’m almost certain that what happens down here will stay down here.”
Shrugging, Ethan downs the remainder of his beer. “Can’t get distracted, man.”
I blink, not fully believing what I’m hearing. “You mean you haven’t hooked up since you got here?”
“No, have you?”
“A few times, nothing too crazy,” I reply. “Like, I’ve been super discreet about bringing girls up to my room because of those rumors, but that hasn’t stopped me.”
“Okay. I guess I just haven’t felt the need to go looking, really.”
This isn’t the time to pick apart our private lives. My reply comes in the form of shoving another beer into Ethan’s hand because 10 p.m. is creeping up on us, and we need to hurry.
Some of the guys pre-gamed too hard and we’re slightly delayed. I lead our group of rowdy baseball players from our meeting point on the boardwalk to the first “bar w great vibes” that Google Maps suggested. The night air is warm against our skin, and Ethan’s got a bit of a buzz—he’s chatting with the team in a way that I haven’t seen before, and honestly, I love to see it.
Once we arrive, I have Ethan set everyone up at our reserved table while I head straight for the bar. James Hernandez is in charge tonight, so the team needs to brace themselves for a good time.
When I head back, the team collectively hoots. I mean, who wouldn’t? I ordered enough shots for everyone to have at least three.
Gabe lets out a low whistle. “Looks like James is trying to kill us with kindness and alcohol poisoning,” he says, elbowing both of the guys next to him.
I nod at Ethan who’s sitting across the table, a single eyebrow raised in amusement. Before anyone can react, I grab a glass and down it smoothly. No lime needed. Reaching for another, I knock back the second shot and glance over at Ethan, daring him to keep up. With my third shot in hand, I lock eyes with him, a playful challenge in my gaze. “Your turn, don’t tell me you’re backing out.”
He takes a glass, feigning reluctance before smiling at me.
“You wish,” he fires back, tossing the shot back in one smooth motion. He grabs two more glasses and downs them one after the other, his expression unchanged.
The team erupts in cheers and playful jeers. I slam my fist on the table, letting out a victorious cheer. “Alright boys, you’re next!”
Everyone laughs as the night goes on, and we’re having an awesome time. Despite my initial sprint, I’m pacing myself and making sure I stay alert, just in case. We’re drawing a lot of attention and before long, almost all the single guys on the team are paired up.
Except for Ethan. He’s talking to Will, and it sounds like they’re deep in conversation about… barbecue grills? I listen in for a couple more seconds and sure, Will’s new grill that just got installed sounds cool. But we’re out. Ethan says he’s single, and he should be having a good time mixing with everyone.
I need another drink, so I slide up to the bar. The place is packed, and the bartender is darting around, barely keeping up with orders. While I lean against the bar and wait, I notice a group of three women standing nearby, all trying to flag him down but failing. They’re laughing, but I can tell they’re getting frustrated.
As the bartender swings by, I catch him with a quick wave. “I’ll take a beer,” I say, and before he can walk away, I turn to the women. “What about you guys? Looks like you’ve been trying for a while.”
They look at me in surprise before one of them, a short brunette with a cute smile, speaks up. “Oh, that’s so nice of you! We were all gonna get vodka crans,” she says, still smiling. “I’m Natalie, by the way. My friends here are Clara and Vanessa.”
“I’m James. Nice to meet you all.”
We chat for a while, the usual small talk and confirming if we’re locals or visiting. They all came here for a wedding, but the bride ran off with one of her bridesmaids and the groom started not-so-secretly hooking up with the bride’s brother. I ask if they’re on reality TV, but all three of them deny it. Long story short, they booked hotels for a week and aren’t letting the lack of a wedding stop them from enjoying the city.
Natalie and I are vibing hard. She’s laughing a lot while leaning in closer, and I find myself mirroring her energy, joking back and nudging her arm. Her dress is doing her curves all kinds of favors, and yeah, I notice. But I stay cool. Tonight is all about being out with the team and having fun.
Still, I wouldn’t mind if we went back to mine together. Not at all.
As the two of us talk, I notice that Clara and Vanessa occasionally glancing over at the team’s table and whispering amongst themselves in Spanish.
It’s hard to catch what they’re saying, but I can pick out alto , bueno , and camisa verde . Oh damn, they’re talking about Ethan. Who else here is tall, hot, and wearing a green shirt?
“You want me to introduce my friend?” I ask in Spanish. They stare at me with surprised expressions before bursting into laughter.
“Yes, we’d really like that,” replies Clara.
I grin and nod, grabbing my beer and waving for them to follow me. As we approach the table, I notice that Will has vanished. Ethan is sitting alone now, nursing his drink and absentmindedly looking around.
“Hey, Ethan,” I say, tapping his shoulder. Startled, his head jerks up, but he recovers after seeing the group behind me. “These are my new friends, Clara, Vanessa, and Natalie.
Ethan flashes a friendly smile at them. “Hey, I’m Ethan.”
Clara and Vanessa waste no time sliding into the empty seats next to Ethan, instantly focusing all their attention on him. I turn back to Natalie, and she smirks while watching her friends flirt with Ethan.
“It seems like they’re super into him,” she says.
“Yeah, good for Ethan,” I reply, and Natalie giggles. “He doesn’t like being the center of attention.”
She tilts her head. “Huh. That’s interesting.”
I shrug, glancing over at Ethan who’s laughing at something Clara said. “He’s different,” I say, leaning back in my seat. “Kind of shy when it comes to stuff like this.”
“He’s cute,” Natalie says, her brown eyes flicking back to me. “But I’m more interested in the guy who bought me a drink.”
Hell yeah. I wrap my arm around Natalie, pumped that the wild night I was looking for seems to be taking shape.
Okay, when I wanted to organize a wild night, I didn’t bargain for something this crazy. Natalie got wasted out of nowhere, started dancing on the table, and got ushered out by Clara and Vanessa at some point.
Somehow, those two went from being flirty to friendly, dragging Ethan out onto the patio to shotgun beers at one point. That totally caught me off guard, but Ethan looked like he was having the time of his life.
As if that wasn’t enough, the team kept buying him shots. Hats off to Ethan, though, because the guy can hold his alcohol like a champ.
Now, things seem to be shifting. I assured the team that we’d be fine to stay, but Ethan’s starting to stumble.
“I’m gonna shleep riiight here,” Ethan slurs, his head slumping forward onto his arms. A silly grin spreads across his face, and I laugh. This is going to be a long night.
“You hungry?” I offer. A burger might soak up some of that tequila-vodka-beer-scotch mixture that’s gotta be wreaking havoc on his stomach right now. To my surprise, Ethan’s eyes widen and he shoots up from the table before heading straight for the door.
Shit. This guy has like five inches on me and walks fast .
“Ethan, wait up!” I call out, trying to catch up to him.
His fast pace means it isn’t long before we reach a stand on the side of the road where the line is pretty short. Ethan orders two double cheeseburgers, and I get a bacon burger for myself. We find a bench off to the side and I watch as Ethan devours his food with surprising speed. Burgers seem to sober him up a bit, giving me some hope that he recovers. I don’t have the energy to chase a drunk Ethan around the city, not this late into the night.
All my hope is misplaced, apparently, because the two double cheeseburgers he ordered might as well have been full of sedatives. Now, instead of drunk Ethan, I have tired Ethan to take care of. Not that I mind. Hanging out with him has been a blast.
The walk back to our hotel is a slow, shaky journey. By the time we make it, Ethan is leaning on me and resting his head against my shoulder. I should be annoyed, but somehow, I’m not.
After a short elevator ride, we reach his room. Placing Ethan against the entryway, I sigh with relief. “Alright, buddy, you’re almost there. Room key?”
Ethan fumbles through his wallet, pulling out a crumpled wad of cash, three credit cards, but no keycard.
Uh oh. Lost key equals lost sleep and a shitty hangover.
“Ethan,” I start, trying to think of a solution.
He opens his eyes and sends me a strange kind of look that I can’t place my finger on. It seems kind of…sultry? Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or he’s super tired. It’s probably the latter.
“Why don’t you crash with me tonight?” I offer, pushing aside my distracted thoughts. “I don’t mind at all. It’ll save you from dealing with a lost key in the middle of the night.”
Ethan considers this for a second, and nods. “That sounds good. Thanks.”
The walk to my room is surprisingly efficient, with Ethan’s mumbled apologies for slowing me down serving as a subtle soundtrack. Finally, we reach my door and I usher him inside the room.
“Make yourself at home,” I say, flicking the light on. Housekeeping freshened the place up, and I’m looking forward to the new, crisp sheets on the bed.
“Oh,” Ethan’s voice is tight. “Uh, right. Thanks, James. This is…” He trails off, his gaze fixed on the bed.
“This is perfect,” I say, tossing my keycard onto the desk. “There’s plenty of space to sprawl out.” I turn back to Ethan, expecting a sleepy nod of agreement.
Instead, Ethan is darting out of the bedroom.
What the hell is he doing?
His final landing spot is the bathroom, no wait, the bathtub . He gets in, still fully clothed.
“I’m too tall,” he mumbles from his new position. “I’ll crash here. Don’t mind me.” His eyes flutter shut. “Comfy,” he whispers, already falling asleep.
Ethan is all splayed out, his wildly long arms and legs spilling out of the bathtub. I can’t let him sleep like this.
“Ethan, get into bed.” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to be. He doesn’t move. “Come on, you’ll fuck up your shoulder,” I add, this time with more urgency. Still nothing.
What’s up with him? We’re two dudes, and I can’t be the first friend he’s ever shared a bed with. It’s perfectly normal, right?
Whatever. I guess I have to take matters into my own hands. Kneeling beside the tub, I carefully wrap my hands around one of Ethan’s bulky arms, trying not to tear a ligament. Holding onto him is one thing but moving him is another. Ethan is impossible to move. He’s tall and built, like capital-B built .
I grit my teeth, hauling on his arm. He stirs and opens his eyes. “Look man, I’m not letting you sleep in the bathtub,” I deadpan. “You’re gonna sleep in the bed and it’ll be fine.”
Ethan stays silent for a few more seconds, but then he pushes himself up and out of the tub.
Thank fuck.
He shuffles over to the bed and back-flops on top of the covers. I change into an old shirt and some shorts before taking the other side of the bed, and Ethan shuffles as I settle in.
“Hey,” he says, his voice clouded with sleep. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
I smile back at him. “No problem, man. Just thought you might prefer the bed to the bathtub.” I try to sound casual, but my mind’s racing.
Why did he insist on staying in the tub?
And why does it feel like I’m trying too hard to make sure he’s comfortable?
Right. It’s because he’s my friend, and I care about him. That’s why.
“Yeah,” he mutters, his eyes already closing. “Definitely an upgrade. You’re the best, James. Good night.”
I lean back against the headboard and turn off the overhead light, leaving only the bedside lamp to cast a soft, warm glow across the room. Ethan’s already asleep, his face softened in a way I’m not used to seeing. His dark, thick eyelashes flutter peacefully, framing his face in a way that’s actually kind of endearing.
It’s nice having someone else here, and I don’t mind the closeness. I turn off the lights and let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. Ethan sure is full of surprises.