Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
KENNETH
I’m already fucking up.
I don’t know what I said to put that dip in Royce’s brow. Their face is usually so calm and collected. I can rarely get a hold of what emotions they’re feeling.
Right now though, I can see it plain as day.
Frustration.
They’re bothered by something I said or did. Or maybe it’s something I didn’t do.
Gillies was right. I’m not going to survive this if I can’t get my head on straight.
So what if I think Royce looks amazing? So what if I wish I could unstrap them from that corset and strip them bare? So what if my mouth waters at the thought of tasting their skin?
I nearly groan as my cock hardens beneath my desk. Get a grip, Kenny.
Lusting after your new co-owner person isn’t good. Even if Royce returned my feelings, it would be a disaster to pursue anything. We’re at two different places in life. I’m on the way out. They’re on the way in. Logically, we don’t make sense.
Try telling my body that though.
Ugh.
“Do you have any questions or specifics you want to know about?” I ask to distract myself.
“Not particularly. I’d planned to observe as much as possible this first week. Next week I’ll start inserting myself into the role here and there as I feel I can best assist. We’ll transition from there bit by bit until I have it under control and you’re the observer instead.”
I nod. “Sounds like a solid plan. Do you want me to say what I’m doing out loud or—?”
This whole job shadowing thing is new to me. I have no idea how it’s supposed to work. It might’ve been awkward with a stranger, but I’d deal. With Royce, it’s so much more. I have to fight my attraction to them while also being thorough since they’re going to need to lead the team when I’m gone.
Royce stands and picks up the chair they were sitting in. They move around my desk until they’re at my side, then they take a seat. I freeze at the proximity. Hints of jasmine and a scent so uniquely them hits my nose.
“I can see better from here to watch you work. No need to tell me out loud unless you feel the need. I might also have a few emails to answer here and there throughout the day, so don’t mind me,” they tell me.
How can a voice be firm while also sounding like pure melted chocolate? I want to hear them read out all the things in this tone. Maybe demand me into a few positions on a bed.
Ok, no. Not that kind of thinking. My dick is already hard and damn near dripping. I don’t need to slip into Royce Fantasy Land now too.
With my focus reined in, I go through my normal morning plans.
It’s just how I told them. Emails get handled first, then I go over my calendar to see what commitments there are.
Nothing immediately pressing comes up on the schedule, so then I shift over to looking at what the season looks like.
Are there any games that I need to make an appearance at?
Or rather, that Royce and I should make an appearance at?
That thought hits me hard. We’ll be together for work a lot, but there will be times that are less business minded and more for the enjoyment of the game.
Will Royce see it that way? Will our time together come across as a transfer of ownership, or will they consider it a date like I wish it could be?
Ignoring my foolishly hopeful thoughts, I select the games I feel would be the most beneficial for me to attend. Some are home games, while a few are away.
“These are the main games I plan to attend this season. Does your schedule allow for you to attend them as well? It would be good for your new role to interact with everyone at that level as much as possible too.”
Royce pulls out their phone and goes over the dates one by one. “I only have one solid conflict for this game,” they point to one of the dates. “I can attend everything else.”
“That’s good. Missing one won’t be the end of the world,” I tease with a grin.
They freeze, like my smile is a ticking time bomb. I have to remember that it once was. My sneers and mean words were always meant to get under their skin. I wanted them to think of me always, even if it wasn’t in the best light.
And Clark was even worse. There’s a reason I ditched his ass immediately after graduating. He was toxic in everything he did.
Stupid childish ways.
If I could go back to younger me, I’d have a thorough conversation with him about how to properly speak to someone you have a crush on. Maybe I’d even encourage him to ask Royce out. Had I pursued them then, I might have stood a chance at more.
Now, I’m stuck in the role of former bully. I don’t see how we could ever be romantic, despite my heart wishing so much that it be possible.
As lunch approaches, my stomach gives a fierce rumble. Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but with Royce here to witness, I feel embarrassed. My cheeks heat as I lock up my computer.
“We should get food,” I rush to say.
They nod. “I would think food is a good idea given the protest your body is making. Do you always skip breakfast? Or is that just the sound it always makes when meal time comes?”
“Pretty much always.” I answer them honestly. If they’re going to hear it every day, then there’s no point in lying. They’ll just call me out for it later.
“To which part?”
“Um, both. I do skip breakfast. And yeah, my stomach does like to make a fuss when I don’t feed it right on time.
Can’t help it. I’m a big guy.” I chuckle as I pat my stomach.
There’s a small layer of fat covering the abs I used to sport growing up.
It’s too much work to keep them all the time, and the only reason I still have as much as I do is because I sometimes train with the team when I’m bored or pent up.
Royce scowls, then motions to the door. “Let’s go. I’m assuming you have an idea of places to eat near here.”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a few. Or we can go down to eat with the team. They’ll be on lunch now too before they move into the video room for the rest of the day.”
As we walk to the elevators, they ask, “Video room?”
“Yeah, to watch footage of practice or to see how the other teams' lineup looks this season. Sometimes it’s just motivational stuff or even a movie to help them relax. I’m not too strict with the coaches about it.
I want those guys to have a life outside of the sport too.
It can’t be all about winning all the time. ”
The elevator closes us in, then moves at a crawl to the basement level where the cafeteria is. Royce’s gaze is on me, their eyes assessing.
“I would have thought the most important thing to the owner was winning,” they say.
I shake my head. “Not to me. Mental health is important. The men having balanced lives between work and home is important. Building a family dynamic within the team is important. The winning comes as a result of the rest being in sync.”
They snort a laugh right as the elevator opens. At my questioning stare, they shrug and step off. “You said ‘in sync’ but my brain heard NSYNC, like the boy band. My sister was obsessed with them for a few years, meaning the entire family was subjected to their discography.”
I smile at the candid details they share about their life. It makes me think for a second that maybe we don’t have to be stuck in the shadow of my past mistakes.
The things I know about them come from very old memories and admittedly, some mild internet stalking. With how famous their family is, it’s a wonder there's so little of Royce online. It adds to the mysterious vibe they’ve got going on.
As we round the entrance to the cafeteria, the noise level picks up substantially. The guys are all definitely in here. It’s never quiet when two or more of these guys are together.
“Kenny!!!!” Gillies cries out as he jumps over a table and rushes to me. I’m pulled into a hug, then he’s bouncing on his toes. “Did you hear that Benson’s baby batter worked its magic again? This is number five. I won the bet.”
I shake my head as I pull out two hundred-dollar bills. “Here, asshole. I’ll give it to you. I didn’t think the missus was going to accept a fifth.”
Royce watches the exchange with raised brows. “Baby batter?”
Gillies seems to notice that I’m not alone. “Oh shit,” he whispers. “Um, yeah. Sorry. This probably isn’t a good first impression. Baby batter is, um, you know… sperm. But it’s funny 'cause we play baseball and a batter is—”
“I know enough about baseball to understand the pun. Five children though? That’s a lot for a man on a team like this. So much time away.”
“We’re not like most teams. The WAGS here all pitch in to help one another.
They do group game watching parties for the kids to wear themselves out while the women relax.
And there’s also a playroom set up in one of the boxes for home games.
We make sure to help them as much as possible,” I explain.
“Kenny’s right. Hell, we’ve all babysat someone’s kid at some point. I’m single, which means I get more spots in the rotation than almost everyone. The only person with more babysitting time on their roster is this guy.” Gillies backhands my chest.
Royce looks between us as if they’re trying to figure things out. I don’t know what they’re hoping to see. I only know that I pray it’s positive. I could use all the brownie points thrown in my direction.
“You babysit the team’s kids? Is that part of your team owner role?”
I shake my head. Gillies takes off, sensing the change in my demeanor.
“It’s not a role I’m playing. I merely want to help these guys.
I grew up rich, but I had enough friends whose parents struggled to make ends meet or to find babysitters that I empathize with my guys.
I don’t have kids or a partner, so why would I not help out when they need it?
Plus, the children are pretty awesome. Kids don’t hold back their thoughts at all.
It’s great knowing where I stand with them. ”
The dig is inadvertent, but it’s still there.
Royce and I have a bit of a stare off after my words.
We both have to accept the past for what it was or else the future won’t work.
I need to have some kind of an idea of how serious he is about this team.
They’re all more than just players in uniforms to me.
They’re family too. Especially since mine are too stuck up for me to want to spend any real amount of time around.
Sure, I’ll attend the parties when they request my presence, but I’m not seeing them weekly. There’s no family dinner or special holiday moments between us. They’ve never really understood me the way I’d hoped.
And once my parents realized I wasn’t going to be a pawn in their hopes for a business marriage arrangement, I practically became an orphan. If people didn’t know of my existence before, then they had no clue my parents even had a child.
Their voice draws me out of the negative thoughts. “Kids have nothing to lose. That’s why they’re so eager to overshare.”
“Maybe, but adults could learn a thing or two from them.” I shrug at their response.
Royce takes off for the line of food at my words.
It’s like I’ve hit a nerve without trying to.
I was always good at that. Even when I’d try to compliment them, I’d end up sounding harsh and judgmental.
Then I’d have no way of correcting it without nearly drooling or begging for forgiveness—neither of which was an option given the last name Meyer.
That and Clark would have kicked my ass. He was never a fan of us looking weak in any way. We were meant to be a team of assholes. If I caved, then he’d turn on me as quickly as he did everyone else.
It’s a shitty realization that took me too long to figure out.
I make a resolution then and there. I will do my best to be kind and open with Royce Bellport from here on out.
And I’ll take my own advice too. If I love the open honesty of children, then I should mimic it.
Royce deserves to know how I feel about them.
I just have to find the right time to share this decades long desire without sounding ridiculous.
Will they believe me when the time comes?
And if they do, then what? That’s the million-dollar question.