31. Ari
thirty-one
Ari
The heat today is getting to me.
It’s fucking February, but all the rain this week means it’s humid as hell right now.
I hated playing in Atlanta because of the heat. I’m not made for hot weather. Living in Texas between the ages of ten and eighteen was absolute hell.
I shoot water from my bottle into my mouth before collapsing onto our bench in the dugout.
“I’m dying,” I groan, and Lane starts laughing next to me.
“You have to be the most dramatic person I know, and I have a damn four-year-old daughter, Ari.”
“Rude,” I grumble as Josh comes to sit beside us. Time for batting practice, and Cole is up right now.
“In Lane’s defense,” Josh chimes in, “you are really dramatic.”
“Pierce would be nicer to me.”
Lane practically cackles. “No, he wouldn’t. He gives you more shit than any of us.”
“I think Lucia is actually vying for that title,” I laugh.
“You been enjoying your roommate-free week so far?” Josh asks, referencing my hotel room.
We all have the option to have our own rooms when we travel, though we usually don’t.
With all of my friends in serious relationships and marriages, though, we all opted for solo rooms for spring training.
I don’t want to listen to their activities.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s been… quieter.”
Lane gapes at me, dumbfounded. “Oh my God, you miss having Lucia around.”
I scoff half-heartedly. “I’ve seen her literally every day we’ve been down here.”
“For like two minutes,” Josh adds.
“It’s fine,” I shrug. “She’s just my roommate.”
“That you’ve been fucking for a month and a half,” Lane smirks.
“Doesn’t mean I have to miss living with her.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Josh says before turning to me with a sly grin. “But I think you do anyway.”
“I don’t.”
“How many times have you texted her since we got to Bradenton?” Lane raises his brow.
“A few times…”
A day.
They both stare at me with disbelieving looks.
“Focus on the season, dicks,” I chide. “You don’t need to worry about whatever is going on between Lucia and me.”
I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
“So something is going on!” Lane grins.
I scrub a hand down my face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it then?” Josh prods.
“Just…” I stammer, waving my hand dismissively. “You know.”
I hope they do know because I sure as hell don’t.
There isn’t anything going on between us.
We’re roommates, and we have sex.
That’s it.
It’s nothing more.
“Of course,” Lane chuckles. “You and Lucia are just friends.”
“I don’t even know if we’re friends,” I admit. “We’re just… roommates.”
“Well,” Josh says. “Why don’t you invite your ‘just roommate’ to come out to Tipsy Turtle with us tonight? Skip is giving us the weekend off.”
“Yeah, I’ll text her when we get back to the clubhouse,” I shrug, pretending to be nonchalant.
But I don’t feel nonchalant at all.
I’m… excited?
I might actually be excited about inviting Lucia out with us tonight.
Maybe they’re right; maybe I have missed her this week.
Fuck.
Why does Lucia always have to look so fucking good when we’re out?
I’ve had to quietly avert my gaze for two years just to avoid staring at her.
We get to Tipsy Turtle before she does, and when she does get here, I have to keep from gawking at her because I don’t want any shit from the guys.
She’s in a pair of skin-tight ripped jeans, an off-shoulder light brown long-sleeve top that shows off the cleavage I love so much, and a pair of heeled sandals.
Combine all of that with the long, black hair flowing around her shoulders, and she’s already turned quite a few heads as she walks to our table.
Those fuckers can all look the other way.
“Hey, guys,” Lucia smiles as she takes the chair next to me. I catch a whiff of her floral perfume and have to keep from trying to devour her right here. “Sorry I haven’t really seen you this week.”
“You been busy?” Josh asks her.
“Stupidly busy,” she sighs. “I’m mentoring both of our new guys because Logan can’t be bothered to help them. I created an injury prevention plan for Rivas. All that on top of just being a trainer. Glad you guys are off for the weekend because now that means I am, too, and I could use the break.”
I signal to the bartender for two more of the beers I’m drinking. Mine’s almost done, and it sounds like Luc could use one.
I grab them a moment later and pop the one down in front of my roommate. “Cheers to the weekend.”
Lucia looks at me and smiles softly. “Thanks, Ari.”
Cole tampers down a grin. “You know Lucia drinks beer?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “We’ve all been going out together for two years now. I know what she drinks.”
“Anyway,” Lucia says, changing the subject. “How’s training been going?”
“Exhausting,” Lane groans. “It’s been hot as hell the past couple of days.”
I scoff at him. “And you called me dramatic for pointing that out at practice today.”
“I mean, you are dramatic,” Lucia teases, smirking around her bottle of beer.
“What the fuck? I don’t have anyone on my side, do I?”
“No,” Knox laughs. “You’re on your own, Morgan.”
“I need new friends,” I grumble.
Lucia leans back in her chair. “I think you’re stuck with us.”
Wait.
Lucia is including herself in my group of friends?
Are we… friends now?
“Fine,” I say with a small smile. “I guess I can keep putting up with you guys.”
Knox goes to comment before we all hear a sound off to the side, and he has to duck his head. “What the fuck?”
“Sorry!” a man shouts, running after the pool ball he just throttled at Knox’s temple.
“I think he needs some more practice,” I mutter under my breath.
“He’s probably better than I am,” Lucia laughs.
I turn to her in surprise. “You don’t know how to play pool?”
She shrugs. “Not well. I’d probably give everyone in here a concussion if I tried, and as an athletic trainer, my job is to prevent injuries, not cause them.”
“You should learn then.” I look around behind her. “There’s a free table right now. Come on, Spitfire.”
Lucia looks at me in surprise. “You’re going to teach me to play pool?”
“Why not?”
I ignore all of the eyes on me right now, eight of them from my nosy as fuck friends.
“Alright, Casanova,” Lucia laughs as she stands up. “Teach me how to play.”
I quickly get up, and we walk toward the open pool table, but not before I grab another two beers from the bartender.
I set my bottle down on the little table beside us and rack the balls up while Lucia watches.
“How do you set the balls up?” she asks, coming to stand beside me.
“There are different ways to do it depending on which game you’re playing. I’m setting us up for eight-ball, which is the most common one. Eight ball goes in the middle of the rack, and you alternate stripes and solids around it. Do you know the rules?”
“Don’t sink the eight ball before the end,” she chuckles. “And try to knock in only the stripes or solids, depending on which you’re playing.”
“Exactly,” I nod. “Seems like you know how to play then.”
“I know the rules; it’s the skill I’m lacking. I’ve never been able to get off a proper shot.”
“So I’ll teach you.” I grab her a stick from the rack. “Why don’t you break?”
Lucia takes the stick from me and walks to the front of the table, positioning herself behind the cue ball.
Her form is all wrong, though.
So I do what any man would do when he’s clearly not thinking straight—I help her.
“You’re not going to get a good break when you’re shooting like that,” I say before leaning on top of her to help her set up her shot.
It’s something out of a cliché romance novel, right down to the way my heart starts beating faster.
She lets me reposition her before looking up at me. “So, like this?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, swallowing hard. “Just like that. Now, pull your right arm back and push it forward.”
Lucia does what I said and cheers when she gets a good break. “Ah! It worked!”
When she cheers, though, she accidentally rams the top of her stick into my cheekbone. “Ow!”
“Oh shit!” she gasps. “Are you okay, Ari?!”
I might be in a bit of pain, but I can’t help but start laughing. “Note to self: don’t trust Lucia with a pool stick.”
She stomps her foot and huffs. “It’s not like you’re supposed to be behind me when I’m shooting!”
“I was trying to help you,” I smile. “Didn’t want you to give everyone a concussion.”
Lucia groans and throws her head back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. Are you okay?” She lightly rubs her thumb over the area she hit. “Shit, it’s already turning red.”
“You can always kiss it better, sweetheart.”
She rolls her eyes but leans in anyway, gently pressing her lips against my cheek. “Better?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Better.”
But I don’t think it is.
I asked my roommate to kiss my cheek under the guise of it helping me.
And I don’t know why I did that.
I need another damn beer.
Another beer actually turns into several, and by the time we’re ready to leave the bar, I’m practically stumbling over my own feet. The guys help me into the Uber they called, and we all get back to the hotel relatively unscathed.
The guys saw when Lucia hit me with her stick… and they saw her kiss my cheek after. The only reason they haven’t talked to me about it is because Lucia’s been with us all night, so they haven’t had the chance.
That, and I’m drunk off my ass.
They help me up to my room while Lucia trails behind them.
“Can you get your key card, Ari?” Cole asks. “I don’t really want to grope you to do it myself.”
“I’ve got it,” I say.
Well, I think that’s what I say. But based on the looks I’m getting, it didn’t come out that coherently.
“I can help,” Lucia pipes in, stepping forward now. She slips her hand into the back pocket of my jeans and grabs my wallet before sliding my key card out. When she puts my wallet back, her hand brushes over my ass.
“Not in front of our friends, Luc,” I slur with a dopey smile on my face.
“You’re plastered, Ari. I’m not coming on to you.” She waves the key over the sensor, and my door unlocks. “I can get him from here, guys. I’ll make sure he has some water and ibuprofen for when he wakes up. And a bucket to vomit in.”
Psshhhh.
I don’t throw up when I drink, Lucia.
“I’m fiiiiine,” I say as she helps me through the door.
She lets out a light laugh. “You can’t even walk, Morgan.”
“I don’t need to walk.”
“Because you’re already sitting on your bed, Ari,” she chuckles. “You don’t need to move at all now.”
Huh?
When did I end up on my bed?
“The world is spinning,” I mumble, and Lucia just starts laughing harder than she already was.
“Yes, that’s called rotation. You should’ve learned about it in science class.”
“It’s rotating too fast. Make it slow down, Lucia.”
She fights her smile as she concentrates hard for a moment. “Is that better?”
“Mhmm.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Drunk Ari before,” she says, sitting down next to me.
“I don’t get drunk a lot.”
“Why did you get drunk tonight, then?”
I think about it as much as I can in my hazy state. “Something to do with you, I think.”
Lucia’s eyes widen. “Me? What did I do that made you get drunk?”
“I don’t knowwww,” I groan. She looks at me curiously, and the light in my room sparkles off her deep, brown eyes, and they radiate warmth. I rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “You’re pretty.”
Her head cocks to the side, and she smiles. “Am I?”
“Yes,” I mumble. “I’ve always hated how pretty you are.”
Lucia goes still. “How long have you thought that?”
“Two years,” I shrug. “You were always way too pretty for Micropenis Matt.”
She shakes her head with a grin on her face. “You know he doesn’t actually have a micropenis, right?”
“Is he smaller than me?” She bites her lip and nods. “That’s all that matters then.”
“Alright, Casanova,” Lucia says, standing up from the bed now, and I’m already feeling the emptiness from where she sat. “You need to get ready for bed. Do you have ibuprofen here?”
“Bathroom.”
Lucia walks into the bathroom, coming back out with a couple of pills and a glass of water. She sets them beside me on the nightstand. “You’ll want these when you wake up. Do you need help getting your clothes off?”
“Trying to get me out of my pants, Torres?” I smirk.
“I’m trying to get you to go to sleep.” She helps me sit up and pulls my blue Henley over my head.
I collapse back onto my pillows, and she then unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs before removing my glasses and setting them down on the bedside table.
Down to just my boxer briefs, I get under the blankets with Lucia’s help. “There. Get some sleep, Ari.”
She turns to leave, but I grab her hand first. “Lucia, are we… friends?”
She smiles at me warmly. I think. It's kinda hard to see without my glasses. “Yeah, Ari. We’re friends.”
I grin brightly at her. “Stay with me tonight, then, friend.”
Lucia goes quiet before removing her hand from mine. “No sleepovers. Remember?”
“No sleepovers after sex,” I mumble. “We’re not having sex tonight.”
She bites her thumb nervously before taking a deep breath. “Get some rest, Ari. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lucia walks out of my room now, leaving me alone in the darkness, wondering why the hell I just asked her to stay.