Chapter 6 Bennett #2
Roman grinned. “I just want to say that if you need me to pose fully nude, I’m more than willing to do it.
“While I appreciate that, Roman, I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” Dani answered. “And just so everyone knows—”
She paused for effect.
“—the first preorder batch has already sold out.”
I blinked. “But we haven’t even shot it yet.”
Clarke shrugged. “People have faith.”
“In your hot bods,” Dani added with a wink. “Just one more reason to get your asses to the gym.”
Soren laughed, shaking his head as he pushed up from his chair. “You heard the woman. Weight room. Five minutes.”
Chairs scraped back in unison as the guys gathered their belongings. Roman started talking trash about bench numbers before anyone had even stood up all the way.
Soren clapped once, sharp and authoritative. “Move it, children.”
As the herd started funneling toward the hallway that led to the weight room, a small tap to my shoulder had me spinning around.
“Don’t go anywhere just yet,” Dani said. “I need you and Matty for another minute or two.”
I arched a brow. “Are we in trouble?”
She rolled her eyes and nudged me to the side, next to my teammate. She waited until the last of the stragglers cleared out before continuing.
“The board finally approved the Junior Roasters mental health initiative.”
My shoulders straightened before I could stop them, the dull post-meeting fatigue burning off like someone had flipped a switch.
The Junior Roasters was more than just a youth baseball program. For a lot of kids, most of whom lived in low-income neighborhoods across Oregon and Washington, it was an escape—an opportunity to build skills and friendships.
Sadly, one of those kids, a high-school freshman from two towns over, hadn’t made it through last season. He’d hung himself just before his fifteenth birthday.
His death had rippled through the organization in a way that stats and standings never could, hitting families, teammates, and coaches alike. Since then, Dani had been relentless, pushing to make mental health and wellness resources an integral part of the program instead of an afterthought.
“That means we finally have the means to expand our involvement with the Junior Roasters—clinics, mentorship, check-ins. You two previously expressed interest in volunteering, so I wanted to make sure that nothing had changed.”
I shifted, the familiar mix of pride and vulnerability settling in my chest. “What exactly would that look like?”
“Volunteering regularly,” Dani said. “On off days, of course. Showing up, talking to the kids. Being visible examples of what it looks like to take care of your mind as well as your body.”
Matty nodded slowly. “I’m in.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Me too.”
She nodded. “I knew you would be. Now, go lift heavy things. I’ll follow up with the details soon.”
I grabbed my gym bag and quickly caught up to Matty. The muffled clang of weights and raised voices bled through the doors at the other end of the hallway.
Matty walked with his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, shoulders a little tight.
“Didn’t peg you for the first-to-volunteer type,” I told him.
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, well, don’t tell anybody. I don’t need anybody expecting me to volunteer for other stuff, like sharing a room with Roman or, heaven forbid, another bachelor auction.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “You hate talking in front of people.”
He smirked. “Kids aren’t people. I don’t know. After last year, it just . . . felt like I needed to do something. Someone’s gotta say the stuff nobody wants to, so why not me?”
I nodded, letting that sit. “They’ll listen to you.”
He shrugged, but there was something steadier under it. “Even if they don’t, at least they’ll know it’s okay to need help.” His lips split up in a small grin. “Besides, if I can talk to a room full of reporters, I can talk to a few kids.”
I gently smacked his shoulder. “That’s debatable.”
The weight room doors swung open in front of us, noise—and smells—rushing out.
The first thing I saw when we walked in was Pink, back flat against the wall, thighs clenched in a wall sit alongside two of the relief pitchers who looked like they were regretting every life choice that had led them here. He held his phone up at eye level like it was sacred text.
Roman was mid-bench, Diaz spotting him with a hand hovering just under the bar, while Soren stood nearby knocking out arm curls, expression neutral in a way that was deeply unsettling.
“Chapter three,” Pink said, clearing his throat dramatically for effect. “Matty’s freckles glowed under the stadium lights as he stepped out of the dugout, his uniform clinging to every hard-earned muscle.”
Matty stopped dead in his stretch. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.” Pink kept going, eyes sparkling with pure evil.
“The crowd roared, but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart—and the low, hungry growl from the shadowy figure waiting in the on-deck circle. Strong hands gripped his waist, spinning him until his back hit cool concrete. ‘You’ve been teasing me all season,’ the stranger whispered, voice rough as pine tar. ‘Time to slide into home, shortstop.’”
Roman let out a low whistle from the bench. “Damn, Pink. You missed your calling as an audiobook narrator.”
“Please,” Matty said, face already going pink. “Make it stop.”
“But it’s about to get good.” Pink wagged his brows suggestively. “Matty’s breath hitched as those clever fingers tugged at his belt, accidentally grazing the length of his cock with every brush.”
“Fuck!” Matty dropped his bag with a thud and dragged both hands down his face. “I’m begging you. Seriously, name your price.”
“Too late,” Tuck called from behind the bench. “This one’s got twenty thousand hits already. You’re a star, Matty boy.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” the star in question protested, climbing to a pitch that only his dog would understand. “I don’t get it. Why is it always me? Look at Bennett. Why don’t they write about his ass or whatever?”
I snorted before I could stop myself, heat creeping up my neck. “Hey,” I said, holding up a hand. “Leave my ass out of this.”
Soren finally took pity and set his dumbbells down with a clang. “Alright, put the phone away, Pink. We have bigger things to discuss.”
“Bigger than Matty’s dick?” Pink hedged.
“Or Bennett’s ass?” Diaz teased.
Soren nodded then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, captain mode settling in. “Since we’re all here—and since you fuckers clearly need a distraction—let’s talk about my bachelor party.”
The room went quiet for half a second and then . . . chaos.
Roman perked up immediately. “Hell yeah.”
Pink’s eyes lit back up. “I have ideas.”
“Of course you do,” Matty muttered, but the color in his cheeks had finally started to fade.
I caught Soren’s eye across the room and gave him a small, grateful nod. He tipped his head back at me, just as subtle.
The room shifted again, lighter now, buzzing with anticipation instead of secondhand mortification.
I settled back into my stretch and let myself enjoy the show, grateful that—for once—the focus wasn’t on my ass, thighs, or whatever fanfiction version of my teammates the internet had cooked up today.
There’d be plenty of time to read those later.
Probably in the tub.