Chapter 18
“I’m going out,” Rhys said, when he was changed into street clothes again. “Anyone want to join me?”
Only a few of his teammates looked up at him. It had been a rough game, and they hadn’t managed to get the win. He'd wanted to do something to help, but no, he had to go and get himself benched for the foreseeable future.
Most of the players left the locker room without even responding to him. Alfie gave him a hard look. “Not everything is solved with a drink.”
“I wasn’t only thinking of drinking.” An anonymous hook-up now… Yeah, a good hard fuck might help get him out of his head. "You could come out with me."
Alfie shook his head. “That does not fix everything, either. Maybe you should just go home and get some sleep.”
That was not going to happen. With the way his brain was bouncing around, even if he did go to his apartment, he’d pace a hole in the floor. It wouldn’t help him sleep, and he’d lose his deposit if he did ever move out. No, going out was definitely the better option.
“Well,” he said instead of any of that, “since I’m not a prude, I’ll at least attempt it.”
That was at least something he could do right. Since he fucked everything else up. Even the skipper seemed to think they’d be better off without him.
Alfie took a step back, his face closing down.
He bit out something in Spanish then turned away.
Rhys had been trying to learn, but he couldn’t translate this.
It did not matter. He needed to get out of here.
Some alcohol, some dancing. Kissing and fucking.
That was what he needed now, not judgment from Alfie.
He caught Brock watching him from the end of the bench.
He’d seemed lighter in the days since the all star break.
The time off made Rhys feel like he was falling apart, but Brock seemed to actually enjoy it.
Rhys had heard the rumor Brock was quitting this season finished, but he hadn’t talked to him about it.
It couldn’t be true. Rhys didn’t understand how anyone would want to leave baseball behind. Brock was so good at it. How could he want anything else?
No, it just couldn’t be true.
Rhys didn’t know who started the rumor, but they needed to put an end to it. Right now, though, Brock was deep in conversation with Caleb, so Rhys let him be. He couldn’t bring himself to make a joke about them getting a room. He really needed to get out of here.
He had to find someone to hook up with tonight. That would help put him back on an even keel. He didn’t think he could handle Alfie turning him down or walking away from him again
When he got to the club, he still felt unmoored. The music was too loud, the drink he ordered too sweet. The person who approached him to dance stood too close. Everything was just too much.
So was the thought of going back to his apartment and having to be all alone with his thoughts. He smiled at the person beside him. “Next song, I’m showing you my moves.”
“Can’t wait to see it,” they said.
Rhys tossed back the rest of his drink as the current song came to an end. The beat picked up with the next song, and Rhys was already moving his hips to it before they’d gotten to the dance floor. This was what he’d needed. Moving always helped him get out of his head.
He did not care what Alfie said. This was a pretty damn good cure to most of life’s ills. It wouldn’t work forever, but he’d take whatever he could for now.
Being in the moment was all he needed. He wasn’t cut out for anything more. Certainly not whatever Alfie looked for in a partner. Certainly not any kind of steadiness.
He would take what he could get from this stranger. It would be better than putting that hurt look in Alfie’s eyes again.
“Those are definitely some moves,” the stranger said as Rhys rocked against their body. Their hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders then back down to his waist, their fingers slipping just inside the waistband of his jeans.
They were soft and slim. Not at all like the way Alfie’s callused palms felt on his body. He closed his eyes and danced a little faster as if that would be enough to chase those thoughts out of his head.
The song ended and it crashed back into Rhys, as if the music had been the only thing keeping it away. The next song was slower, and Rhys saw his dance partner make a face. It was nearly enough to make Rhys laugh.
“Let’s go up and get a drink,” he suggested. “Then, we’ll be hydrated for the next song.” He could shut his brain off, at least for one song.
The next song was just as slow and Rhys ordered them a second round of drinks. Then, a third. His partner—had they told him their name? Rhys’s brain felt just fuzzy enough he couldn’t remember—leaned into Rhys’s shoulder as they headed out onto the dance floor.
“You’re really strong.” They ran the tips of the fingers over his shoulders. “I could just lean up against you, and you wouldn’t let me fall, would you?”
“I’d do my best,” Rhys said.
They leaned in as Rhys’s hands went to their waist. “I could call for a ride,” they said. “You could let me see those muscles in all their glory.”
Well, that would be a way to shut off his brain for more than the length of a song. Keep him from seeing that look in Alfie’s eyes again.
“What are we waiting for?”