Thirty-Two Ben
thirty-two
Ben
Come on, Belles!” the Belles’ captain shouted from their dugout.
The Liberty Belles were a Northland team that played in drag.
Ben loved drag shows—he’d even dabbled a bit in his college days, more for fun than anything else—but he couldn’t imagine trying to kick or run around in drag.
The thought of his tuck coming unstuck due to sweat and friction made him shudder.
That hadn’t stopped any of these kings and queens, though.
A tall brown-skinned queen with the loftiest wig Ben had ever seen stepped up to kick. Noah glanced toward David at first, toward Arya at third.
Ben’s stomach tightened. He was situated in the outfield with TJ. The game was tied 3–3, and the Belles had two outs, but damn they were fierce.
Ben hunched, shifted his weight from foot to foot. When had he gotten so competitive? Far in front of him, Arya did the same move, knees bent, butt back. Ben might need to see about switching with TJ. It was too distracting, looking at Arya’s backside during games.
Noah wound up and pitched, the red ball rolling smoothly toward the queen. Ben truly didn’t see how she could kick without breaking her heels, but with a solid DONK her foot connected. The ball went sailing, sailing, sailing—
Right into Ben’s arms.
Third out.
“Woo!” Arya shouted, high and clear even above the shouts and whistles of the rest of the team.
Ben grinned and ran in toward the dugout to get ready for the next inning, but Arya caught him along the way, wrapping an arm around him and kissing him.
Ben loved the way Arya tasted, salty and hot.
He loved the way Arya smelled, too, sweaty, musky, but with a hint of coconut sunblock.
“That was some catch,” Arya said when he broke the kiss. He released Ben but kept their hands linked as they jogged for the dugout.
Justin was retying his shoes, foot propped up on the bench. He frowned at Ben and Arya, then looked away when he realized he was caught.
Whatever.
Ben was seriously rethinking telling Arya not to kick Justin off the team.
There were other teams he could join, right?
Ben had no idea where Justin lived, what teams might be convenient, but it wasn’t like the teams were defined by strict geography.
After all, Ben lived down the street from Loose Park, Arya lived in downtown, and Noah lived all the way up north.
It was too late now, though. Ben had done his best not to let his history with Justin get out, so most people on the team were friendly to Justin, and he was friendly back.
Even David and Farzan, who did know, managed to be civil.
In fact, Arya was the only one who was ever a dick to Justin, but he did it passive-aggressively, and only when Ben was around to see it.
If that wasn’t romance, Ben didn’t know what was.
“Great catch, Ben!” Noah said, patting Ben on the shoulder. “Sorry I let them get that kick in the first place.”
“Don’t be,” Ben said. “They’re really good.”
“Right?” TJ said. “Though I’m pretty sure I dated one of the kings a couple years ago.”
Ben snorted. “Of course you did.”
“What? Who didn’t have a roller derby phase?”
Several of the drag kings on the Belles played roller derby, too, which was probably why they were so intimidating.
The ref blew her whistle.
Arya let go of Ben to clap. “All right, Lions, let’s go win this thing!”
But then he turned back. “Kiss for good luck?”
Ben laughed and stepped in for another kiss, resting his hands on the waist of Arya’s shorts. His thumbs teased under the hem, stroking along Arya’s hip bone, feeling the goosebumps rise there.
He dropped a kiss on the tip of Arya’s nose, too.
“Let’s go fuck them up.”
“Things are going well with you and Arya, huh?” Justin asked.
“What?” Ben sat in the shade of a tree, legs splayed out, raglan balled up in his hands. He felt Justin’s eyes trace his pecs, the bit of abs he showed in this angle and this light.
Whatever else had gone wrong between them, Justin had always been attracted to him, at least.
Without asking, Justin flopped onto the grass next to Ben, “accidentally” brushing hands. Ben withdrew his.
Anger flared in his gut.
“Seriously?”
“What?” Justin’s eyes went wide, though his brows stayed calm, which only pissed Ben off more. Fucking Botox face.
Ben scooted away.
“What is it you think is happening here, Justin? Do you think I’m going to ‘come to my senses’ and go back to you? Do you think this thing with Arya is just a fling? Do you think you can win me back somehow?”
Justin’s face was turning red.
“Why can’t you just accept the fact that this is never going to happen?”
“I have!” Justin snapped. “I have, okay? Not a day goes by I don’t regret how I treated you, and I have to live with that.
But just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.
Okay? Like it or not, we’re part of each other’s history.
And I thought we could at least try to be friends.
I mean, we work together. We play on the same team.
Do you really hate me so much that I can’t even talk to you without you biting my head off? ”
Ben shook his head. Was Justin going to act like he didn’t know what had really set Ben off? Was he gaslighting Ben? Was he oblivious?
Ben didn’t know for sure. He couldn’t decide if he should be more pissed off or less.
Justin took his indecision as acceptance, though. He smoothed out his voice and said, “I’m happy for you. As long as you’re happy. Okay?”
“Thanks,” Ben said.
“You two are really cute together.”
Ben knew that already. It’s why being fake boyfriends had worked so well. Why being real boyfriends was working even better.
Justin rested his elbows on his knees and looked out at the field, where the Belles and the Lions were mingling after the game.
With Jake back from Italy, Ben had started bringing Simon to games again. Jake was good at watching her, and she adored him, sitting attentively at his side as he talked to one of the drag queens, who bent over to let him feel her wig.
Ben grinned at the sight. Jake was a good kid. Last week he was pretty sure he overheard Jake ask his dad if he should be calling Ben “Uncle Ben.”
What was his life?
Justin cleared his throat. Ben looked his way, scratching his chest. He had a small hickey on his collarbone, courtesy of Arya, and didn’t even care who saw it.
“So things are… good, right?”
Ben squinted, trying to suss out what Justin meant. “Yes. Things are good.”
“Just, I hear things. You know.” Justin plucked a few blades of grass. “From the other players and stuff. Arya’s had a… colorful history.”
Ben knew all that. Arya called himself a slut.
“Do you really think someone like that is fine never doing anal?”
Ben felt like he had angry bees beneath his skin. He leapt to his feet.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.” He began to stomp away, but Justin grabbed his wrist.
Ben shook himself loose, but not before Justin blurted out, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
But Arya wasn’t going to hurt Ben. He knew that.
And even if he was, it wasn’t Justin’s job to stop it.
“You don’t get a say in that anymore. Now, would you leave me the fuck alone?”
He stalked away, back toward the dugout, where the team was trickling toward the parking lot.
Simon barked and stood, wagging her tail, but she stayed with Jake until Ben was a little closer. Then she ran over and stuck her nose in his crotch.
Ben laughed and knelt. “It was a good game, huh, Simon?” he asked, rubbing her perfect face. “Did you have fun with Jake?”
“She’s the best,” Jake announced solemnly. “If you ever need a dog sitter, can I do it?”
Ben looked past Jake to Ramin, whose lips were pressed together to hold in a laugh. He nodded.
“Sure thing. Thanks!”
“Yes!” Jake thrust a fist into the air and then ran toward his dad.
Ramin knelt next to Ben. The crystal studs in his ears sparkled in the sunlight. He gave a dimpled smile as he stroked Simon’s back. “Thanks for being so sweet to him.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“He is.” Ramin lowered his voice. “Thanks for being so sweet to Arya, too.”
“Of course.” Ben couldn’t help it if he tried.
Ramin held Ben’s eyes for a long moment. Ben had the unnerving feeling he was being weighed and judged. But he must’ve passed, because Ramin nodded.
“He cares a lot more than he lets on. About everything.”
Ben nodded. He knew Arya didn’t like to open up very much. That he was quick to reach for a joke. But Ben was getting to know the real Arya, and he liked what he saw.
Ramin patted Simon a few more times, then stood.
“See you next week?”
“Yup.” Ben stood, taking up Simon’s leash. “You ready to go home?”
Simon wagged her tail and followed as Ben made his way toward Arya.
“Good game,” Arya said, pulling Ben into a kiss.
“Good game,” Ben agreed. “You busy? Want to come over?”
Arya frowned.
“I can’t.”
“Oh. Work?”
He shook his head. “Worse. My parents.”
Ben rested his forehead against Arya’s. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. My dad’s leaving for Iran tomorrow. They wanted to do one last ‘family dinner.’ ” Sarcasm dripped off the words like clumps of sediment at the bottom of a bottle.
“I’m sorry. You want me to come with you?”
Arya had met Ben’s parents; it only made sense for Ben to meet his. Even if it was under less than ideal circumstances.
Arya shook his head, though. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to have to deal with this shit.”
“I’m your boyfriend, though. I don’t mind.”
Arya took Ben’s hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.
“Thank you. But it’s better if I deal with this one on my own. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Ben swallowed away the sudden lump in his throat.
He got it. He did. Dinner with the parents was kind of a big deal. Right?
But being boyfriends was a big deal, too. And if you added up all the time they’d been together, for pretend and for real, they were several months into it now.
They should be talking about stuff like this, right? Making plans?
No. Ben was being ridiculous. He knew Arya was new to being part of a couple. Had he ever brought someone home to meet his parents?
Ben needed to be patient. Not push him too fast.
But he hated not being there for Arya. Hated even more that Arya didn’t want him there.
It was fine, though. It was whatever.
It was Arya’s choice, and Ben had to respect it.