24. JED
TWENTY-FOUR
JED
I cannot wait to get in the fucking shower.
I’m stiff as hell from an eight-hour bus ride, my right ass cheek is still numb, and I need to get the stink of a bus full of traveling athletes off me.
Steaming hot water should help loosen me up.
I might have some other ideas too. I glance to my left where Surfer Boy is strolling next to me down the hotel hall, aviators pushed up on the top of his head, his golden curls half-up in a topknot.
I haven’t seen him wear it like that before. Of course, he rocks it. Cute as fuck. It’s annoying. Is there anything he does that isn’t appealing?
We step up to our room, and I wave to Araujo and Thompson as they pass on their way to theirs.
Shane holds the key up to the fob, the lock clicks, and he pushes into the room.
And immediately stops. I crash into his back, and we stumble.
My free hand shoots to his hip, and I bite back a smile.
Because he shivered the minute my fingers landed on him.
I lean in and fill my lungs with his tropical-citrus scent. Damn, he even smells like sunshine—or at least what I’d think sunshine would smell like. Tropical paradise. I gently guide him all the way into the room, rolling my suitcase behind me. “What the fuck, Sunshine? What was that for?”
I follow his attention past the small kitchenette and living area—to the king bed. The single king bed. Oh.
His high-pitched chuckle echoes through the small room. “I’m sure the couch pulls out. I can take that.”
“Absolutely not. If you’re uncomfortable, we can try to get a room change, but I’m fine sharing a bed.”
Back in Hartford, we’d get off, clean up, and fall into our respective beds. Is this a bit intimate for a casual hookup? Yeah. But I’m not having a shitty-ass pull-out couch affecting Shane’s game, or our chances of winning.
He’s fidgeting with the strap of his duffle and won’t meet my eyes. I’m surprised this makes him uncomfortable. He’s so go-with-the-flow. I would have expected the first things out of his mouth to be some sort of come on.
“Are you all right? Do you want me to call the front desk?”
He clears his throat and sends me a wide smile. One of his fake ones. “Nope. This is totally fine. Better warn you, I’m a total cuddle whore.”
That’s more what I was expecting. But he’s still clearly uneasy. “I guess I’d better warn you, I’m a kicker.” Shane’s eyes grow round. I grin. “I’m kidding.”
His shoulders deflate with a sigh. “Thank God. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to get kicked with those thighs.”
His gaze drops to my gray sweats, and those ocean-blue irises turn stormy. There we go. I stalk toward him. His gaze slowly rakes up me to meet mine, and he stands there dazedly. I push the strap of his duffle off his shoulder. Thump. I place a finger under his chin, tilting him up as I lean down.
But then a laugh bubbles out of him, and he takes a big step back. “You want dibs on first shower?”
I frown as my hand falls to my side. “Was actually kind of hoping we could…conserve water.”
Another awkward laugh. “Yeah, pretty sure we’d waste more water than if we showered separately. Just saying.”
I…don’t understand what’s going on. But something is up. Maybe a little skin will help change his mind.
“Suit yourself,” I say and head back to my suitcase. I unzip it and pull out my bathroom bag. Then I make quick work of my zip-up, tee, and sweats. I grab my shower stuff and stride past Shane. Completely in the buff.
A whimper follows me as I walk into the set-back bedroom area and into the bathroom off it. I can’t stop the smirk from breaking out on my face. Knew that would do the trick.
“You’re so mean,” he whines and follows me like he can’t help himself.
I lean into the glass shower and turn on the water. “I’m not sure how I can be considered mean. I’m the one asking you to shower with me.” I glance back at him. “And I wasn’t talking about just showering, Shane.” There’s still so much more I’m hoping to do with him that we haven’t gotten to yet.
His face falls.
My gut tightens. “Okay. Out with it. What the hell is going on?”
I ball my fists. Does he not want to do this anymore? His interest still seems there. What changed?
“So, I really want to join you. Like, really, really.” His blue irises flick up to mine. Eyes that are always so open, teasing and bright, right now are guarded. Scared. His throat bobs. “So, um. We have a small problem.”
I stiffen.
“I mean, not like a problem, problem.” He runs a hand through his hair, and it gets stuck in the topknot. He tugs it free and shakes it out, then fidgets with the hair tie. “They won’t say anything,” he whispers.
I blink at him. They won’t say anything?
“I’m so sorry, Stone.” His brows pinch, his forehead a wrinkled map of worry.
“I didn’t tell them. But they guessed. I had already told them I had a major crush on you, and they guessed way too easily.
But I don’t think it was obvious or anything.
They just know me so well, they can read me.
Well, actually, I don’t think Paulie and Easton would have ever found out if it weren’t for Shelby and Frankie.
Those two fuckers are way too perceptive.
And together they’re like this evil duo.
Major collusion. Frankie has a nose for sniffing it out too.
I think it’s like a sixth sense. He can tell when someone recently had an orgasm, especially if it was a gay one. ”
I gape at him. I have no idea what any of that was. “Can you maybe slow down and explain what you’re talking about?”
He draws in a breath. And doesn’t let it out. I’ve noticed he does that when he gets panicky, like the first night we hooked up.
I step up to him and wrap my fingers around his neck. I grip tight, staring hard down at him. “Breathe. Now.”
A whoosh rushes out of him, and a rush of peppermint tingles over my skin.
“Now. Just say it. What you’re dancing around.”
“Nebs and Winters know we’re hooking up.”
My pulse spikes sharply, and my fingers flex on his neck. He winces. I immediately drop my hand. Two of our teammates know. Okay. Bad. Very bad. But out of everyone who could know, probably the best possible options.
“Does anyone else know?” My voice is deadly calm even if my heart is beating off the charts.
“No one else on the team. Nebs’s brother and girlfriend. That kind of deal. We were out to dinner when they figured it out.”
“You’re sure no one else on the team overhead your conversation?”
He quickly shakes his head, blond hair flying. “No. No one from the team was at the restaurant. You were barely mentioned by name.”
He said they’d guessed. He didn’t tell them, and I can’t be mad at him for that. Not very mad. I’m extremely frustrated, though.
I tip my head back and groan. “Shit, Michaels. Is this going to be a problem?”
I should have never hooked up with him. This is exactly why messing around with teammates is a bad idea. It always finds its way out. A knot of anxiety weaves itself in my gut. Fucking hell. I can’t believe I let this happen.
All right. Damage control.
I lock eyes with him. “We obviously have to end this right now. But are you going to tip others off—with whatever you were doing that had them picking up on it? Maybe we should distance ourselves too. That way no one else can pick up on any vibes. You’ll tell Nebs and Winters it’s over.
Tell them it was nothing—just a stupid mistake we won’t repeat. ”
“Yeah. Of course,” he says quietly, words tight.
“They definitely won’t say anything?” I prod.
Because we need to be so damn certain we’d risk our baseball careers on it.
That’s what’s on the line here. Unfortunately, more for Shane than for me.
As talented as he is, he’s a no-name minor leaguer.
I think my dad’s name would help me weather it.
I have no idea what a team would do if they found out two players were fucking around.
Players have been blackballed for being queer in the past—add to that the fact we’re teammates?
The Jetties are a progressive organization, but inter-office relationships are bad news, no matter the industry.
If Shane’s lucky, maybe he’d end up with a trade, but with news like that coming to light, I can’t imagine any locker room would be a safe space for him. Especially if there aren’t any allies there to stand with him. There are a lot of Devereux’s out there, and they’re loud.
“East and Pauls would never do anything to hurt me.” His blue eyes spark fire.
I step back at the vehemence in his tone. Well, there’s the certainty I was looking for.
“Okay. Good.”
We stand there in the most awkward silence known to man. One where I become increasingly aware that I’m naked.
“I should shower now. I’ll be sure to be more considerate with changing and undressing going forward.” The last thing I’d want to do is be cruel.
He gives me a sad half-smile. “Same.” It falls away. “Um, so about the bed…?”
Fuck. Right. I glance over his shoulder at the pristine white hotel bed. “It’s probably best if we change rooms. I can call when I get out of the shower.”
“No. I can call. I caused this mess. The least I can do is fix this part.”
I soften slightly. I know he didn’t mean it. But it doesn’t change the precarious position we’re in now. No. You were always in that position. The minute you said yes to him. God, I’m so fucking thoughtless.
I smile tightly. “Thanks. That’d be good.”
Serious blue eyes bore into mine, the gravity in his gaze so at odds with his carefree personality. “I’m really sorry, Jed.”
The words are raw, laced with an aching understanding. I don’t know what it could possibly be, but it pierces the organ in my chest. Deep. Sharp.
He finally drops his gaze and disappears around the corner into the main part of the hotel room.
That’s when his words hit me. Words that passed through my brain without sinking in.
I had already told them I had a major crush on you.