Chapter 9
NINE
SHANE
“Nebs, I’m begging you. Please let me stay with you,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes beseechingly from where I’m on the bench in the locker room.
East is sitting next to me, downing a protein bar.
Paulie’s standing in front of me, wiping himself down.
We just got done with suicides, so we’re all dripping and my lungs are still sore.
I love that feeling, the feeling that I pushed my body to its limit.
It’s a high I can’t explain, knowing I’ve given something my all, literally to the point my body can’t give anymore.
I may be being overly dramatic because I’m me, but I am not far from getting on my knees to literally beg Paulie. Easton and Maddox deserve to have time alone, and I don’t think I’ll survive another day being around their love.
Let’s just say, I’m not in a very good place right now.
Every smile is like pulling teeth. I hate when the weight comes creeping in because I know I can’t stop it.
I refuse to let it show. Even if being surrounded by something I’ll never have has it heavier than ever.
I walk through the apartment each night, and their laughter, their affectionate glances, their small touches, haunt me. Taunt me.
I’m thrown back in time. To when I was that kid standing at the end of our trailer park complex waiting for my father’s truck to appear.
But it never did.
To when the girl I’d been crushing on hard told me she couldn’t take me home to meet her family. Not when I came from where I did. I was good for a fun time, but not more than that.
Being pushed to do sprints until I almost puked was a welcome distraction today.
“Didn’t you arrange this whole thing?” Nebs arches a brow, his gaze darting between me and Winters.
“You don’t want to know what I walked in on yesterday,” I say pointedly.
Winters’s face turns bright red. “I thought we’d locked the door,” he mumbles.
I throw him an incredulous look. “I have a key. You know, those things that unlock doors. Because I live there!”
He winces, and I hurry to reassure him. “It’s fine, East. Really. I’d just prefer to avoid getting another eyeful. I don’t think best friends are supposed to be familiar with each other’s O faces.” I pause. Then again, considering East is now dating his best friend, maybe that’s not exactly true.
Easton manages to turn even redder. Poor Cowboy.
I’m not sure what was more shocking. Walking into my apartment to find Maddox bent over our island while Easton went to town on him, or the fact that I literally couldn’t move my feet and watched for what was definitely too long to be considered acceptable. I was in sex shock.
Who would have thought shy and nervous Easton had that kind of dominance in him? I suppose I was stereotyping when I pegged Maddox as the one in charge—he’s the calm and in control, steady type, Easton’s anchor. Shows what I know. Don’t make assumptions, kids.
“You two only have a few more days until…” I glance around the locker room and confirm everyone else is preoccupied with their own shit. I drop my voice anyway. “Until Madz leaves. And tomorrow we have the day off.” I turn back to Paulie. “Pretty please.”
It’s creating all sorts of problems because the other thing it’s doing is…
causing me to picture things. Like me in Maddy’s place and a certain scowling Triple-A shortstop in Easton’s.
Especially now that I’ve learned said shortstop is bisexual.
His speech in the locker room a couple days ago?
Damn, that was sexy as hell. I think putting bigots in their place is a turn-on for me.
But it’s bad, so so bad. Because now logic is happening.
Logic that says, Stone likes men. I like men. I think Stone is hot. Ergo…
I am so fucked. I mean. I want to be so fucked.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Paulie shakes his head, a grin on his face. “You can have my couch. But I’m doing it for Winters. Just thinking about how long he’s going to have to go without sex makes my dick sad. He’s gotta stock up.”
Easton lets out a dramatic whine. “Don’t remind me. Not the sex part. Just the fucking distance.”
Paulie’s face falls. “I’m sorry, man. But you’ve got a good chance at Triple-A this year. And you know what that means. And I know Shelbs would love to have company on the drive up.”
Shelby is Paulie’s girlfriend. And Easton’s ex-girlfriend. And also a really close friend of Maddy’s.
I know. It seems complicated and like a whole lot of drama—and when Easton told me his boyfriend and ex-girlfriend were coming down to visit together our first year in High-A, I was certain he had gotten hit in the head with a bat.
But given how genuinely nice Easton is, I shouldn’t have been surprised that the girl he’d previously dated was equally as sweet.
And wooo boy, Paulie went all heart-eyes the minute he saw her. Like Pepé le Pew Looney Tunes status. He chased her for a while—I think she might have been a little nervous to step back up to the plate with another ballplayer.
Shelby works close to where Maddox is getting his doctorate.
They all went to GCSU together, and the Providence Clippers are only a two-hour drive from there.
Which means if Easton gets assigned to the Clippers, he and Maddy could see a whole lot more of each other.
They went literal months apart the past couple years.
Paulie’s got his spot locked up. He was starting catcher last year, and the team already let him know he’ll be the starter again this year.
Easton hasn’t been told officially, but the starting right fielder last year has unfortunately flamed out.
Or fortunately. That’s the reality of this game—for someone to rise, someone else has to fall.
Trades, injuries, decline—it’s all part of the cycle.
Boy, do I feel that. It’s another weight tied to the yoke on my neck.
I’m having trouble seeing there being any chance at me making Triple-A.
There’s no room for me. No one is playing poorly.
I’m not going to wish injuries on my worst enemy.
There’s this invisible barrier separating me from my dream.
I go to walk toward it and hit a wall of glass.
A clubhouse staff member approaches us, and the three of us freeze. “Winters, Dominguez wants to see you in his office.”
Victor Dominguez is the Triple-A manager. Time for Easton to get his assignment. It could be a good sign that it’s the Triple-A head coach who’s giving the news. Or it could mean nothing. My gut explodes with nerves for my friend.
Easton nods to the clubhouse guy and throws his cap over his matted toffee curls. I don’t miss the way his fingers tremble. I squeeze his shoulder, and when he stands, Nebs does the same.
“Breathe, Winters,” Nebs murmurs. “We’ll be in the caf.”
He nods, but I’m not sure he hears us as he gets up and stiffly makes his way to the locker room doorway.
We’re silent for a beat, the magnitude of the moment settling over us. We’ve both been in Easton’s shoes. Every year we go through this—some years are more certain than others. But something about it being Triple-A makes it all feel that much bigger.
“Food?” Paulie finally breaks the silence.
My stomach tightens. Urgh. I know I need to eat because we have a scrimmage this afternoon, but the last thing I want to do is put food in my squirming gut. I’ll force something down.
“Food. Then I need to hit the showers to get this sweat off me.”
Paulie and I shovel in some grub—we’ve got an assortment of sandwiches today.
I’m mid popping a salt and vinegar chip in my mouth when I spot Easton walking into the room.
His cheeks are lightly flushed, and his blue eyes are bright.
He plops down next to Paulie, across from me.
And just sits there in a daze, staring at the table.
“The fuck, Winters,” Paulie bursts out. “Tell us already.”
Easton sends Paulie a small smile, and then his gaze meets mine as he nods. “Yeah, I…uh. I’m assigned to the Clippers this season.”
My face breaks out in a grin. “Congrats, man.”
“We’ve gotta celebrate tonight after the scrimmage,” Paulie adds.
Easton wrinkles his nose. “Ah, can I call raincheck on that? I might already have some celebration plans tonight.”
My grin widens even as my heart twinges. I drop my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my hand. “Private celebrations?” I bounce my eyebrows.
“Something like that,” Easton mumbles, his cheeks darkening.
Paulie cackles. He leans forward. “Think someone is saving a horse and riding a Cowboy tonight,” he sings quietly.
A throat clears next to me, and all three of us snap our heads toward where the same clubhouse guy who grabbed Easton earlier is standing. His gaze darts between us, his brows scrunched in confusion. Clearly, he overheard Paulie. The three of us lose it and burst out laughing.
“Um. Michaels. Dominguez wants to speak with you.”
I give him a nod, but my insides freeze. I blow out a breath. “Looks like it’s my turn. Wish me luck, bros.”
They hold out their fists, and I give them each a quick dab.
“I’ll take care of your tray,” Paulie adds quickly.
I send him an appreciative smile and then leave the caf.
Each thud of my steps syncs with the thud in my chest. This is it.
My future is waiting to be decided in the office at the end of this hall.
A buzzing fills my ears, and the hallway seems to somehow lengthen even as I take steps forward.
I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Easton just got good news after getting this same call. But that doesn’t mean I will too.
My hand shakes as I reach for the door handle.
Breathe, Shane.