Three Strikes - 28. Just Friends?

It’s true what they say—you should be careful what you wish for.

I should’ve been more specific when I complained life was too boring and I’d do anything for a little excitement or drama.

Other people’s drama, not mine!

Damn. I’d only wanted to sit back and point my finger at all of the sorry bitches who needed to throw shit around on Jerry Springer. You know, someone and their brother who were both supposed to be the biological fathers of the same twins, or some shit like that. It wasn’t supposed to be my drama. I was only supposed to watch and sip a cock(tail) at the expense of others.

Instead, my hypothetical phone was blowing up while the producers of every smut daytime talk show host was trying to book me for their latest exclusive. I had all of the drama and intrigue—a washed up, gay college baseball star that dated a sexy beast who was part homophobe asshole.

Insert drama at the bar, a colorful break up, water thrown onto face, an epic storm out, ugly crying, a drunken night when he showed up at my house, a threesome with twins, his showing up at work with my boss, his dancing to kid’s music and making my heart flutter, my patients saying embarrassing things to him, his begging to talk, and then stolen glances and lingering eye contact at practice the next day.

I took my phone out and scrolled through my video album until I found the video I’d taken of him dancing. Damn if he didn’t look adorable trying to dance to a song he’d probably never heard before. I laughed to myself as I once again watched him get every-single-move wrong, even after little Greg and tiny Beth tried to show him the simple steps.

I’d made the dance for small kids with cancer so it wasn’t exactly complex, but you would’ve never known it by watching Shane. The video was mostly of his back, but there were a few times the camera caught a glimpse of his profile and the genuine happiness on his face was as clear as a bell.

If being adorable with my favorite little ones wasn’t enough, there was the fact he’d dressed in something other than Walmart athletic apparel. Not regular clothes, either but business clothes. He’d worn the jeans that’d caused me to drop to my knees and blow him before he’d had a chance to buy them, and a green blazer that complimented his chestnut hair and tanned skin.

With frustration, I tossed my phone across the bed and reminded myself that Shane was the fucking devil and I didn’t dance with the devil, no matter how good he looks in business professional attire or how precious it was when he was interacting with my kids.

He was still the devil.

I sighed, reached across my bed, and grabbed the phone I’d just thrown. I had a habit of dramatically tossing it when I became frustrated, but in reality, there was no way I was going to be separated from it. I’d glanced at the time and noted Allé was due to arrive any minute.

I needed brunch with Allé like I needed air to breath or my phone in my hand. It’d been five days since the breakup and so much had happened since. I desperately needed to decompress or I was going to breakout from all of the stress. Plus, he owed me food after leaving me with Nick and Nelly.

The fucking shyster.

After I heard a car pull up, I grabbed my phone and a light jacket before going downstairs. The downfall to brunch was waiting all morning to eat. I was starved and I couldn’t wait another minute to stuff my face. I heard, and felt, my phone go off just as the doorbell rang. Allé. Curious to see what couldn’t have waited ten more seconds, I opened the door for Allé with one hand while I tried, and failed, to gracefully swipe my phone to reveal the text he’d sent me.

“What’s so urgent you had to text me two seconds before—” my brows furrowed as I read the text.

[Allé] See you tonight at practice and don’t be a bitch about this.

“Don’t be a bitch? Are you drunk?”

Confused by his words, I looked to Allé for answers. Was he drunk, high, or just plain crazy?

It wasn’t only my words that faltered, my whole body did—when I was met with a set of very familiar brown eyes nervously staring at me. My chest, my breathing, my heart rate—hell, I thought the blood flowing through my veins had stuttered as I stood there, gawking in silence, until I finally collected myself enough to speak.

“What are you doing here?”

“Brunch?” He smiled awkwardly.

I shook my head. “No. I’m going with Allé.”

Shane's eyes narrowed, apologetically, as if reminding me that I’d forgotten something important. My brow was arched with amusement as I realized I’d been set up, again.

“You watch a lot of crime shows, yeah? Do you think you could successfully cover up a murder and dump the body? Or maybe you’d take the fall for me since, you know, you owe me.”

There might’ve been a legitimate way to kill Allé without serving jail time. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind being someone's bitch, but I preferred it to be on a consensual basis and I didn’t think that would’ve happened while wearing an orange jumpsuit, which made me think of the last time I wore the infamous jumpsuit/romper...

I was pulled out my mental “rabbit hole” by the deep rumble of Shane’s soft laugh.

“Would you settle for something less intense? Like letting me dump your kitchen trash instead of a body?” His smile was annoyingly warm and charming—I hated it.

“That’s not exactly what I’m looking for.” I half-teased.

After I realized we’d started to tease one another, and not wanting to cave-in, I straightened my posture and regained a more serious tone.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to have brunch with you and to talk.”

I was starving and I had zero desire to wait at a restaurant plus, I knew he had a strong aversion to fast food so I figured it’d be the quickest way to shake him.

“Fine. We’re planning to go to McDonald’s, though.”

His shoulders sunk, slightly, with disappointment as he lifted a pastry box from a matching paper bag.

“Oh. I guess I’ll have to eat all three dozen of these mini quiches from The Endless Brunch.”

It wasn’t your generic pink box, instead, it was beautifully littered with flowers of every color. It was a perfect fit to the chaos of color and elegance that graced the most memorable meal I’d ever had.

The mention of those perfectly delicious mini quiches had my stomach yearning for a taste and, as much as it pained me to admit it, there was no way McDonald’s gut bomb sandwiches would, or could, compare or satisfy me since I had the real deal in front of me. After he opened the box, a wave of savory goodness breached my senses and rendered me completely at his mercy.

As I opened the door a little wider, to let the little quiches into my home while never taking my eyes off of them, I sighed.

“Well, since you already have them…”

Shane walked passed me, making sure I caught a good whiff of his evil bribery before placing the box on the table, walking to the kitchen and opening my cupboards. I immediately grabbed one and took a bite. It was like a drug—the moment it’d hit my mouth, every problem disappeared and my body went limp as every muscle relaxed. I was torn between either slowly savoring every bite and edging myself toward a paradise of bliss, or stuffing my face and giving myself the instant gratification I’d desired.

Food porn.

I chuckled at the connection and popped a second one into my mouth as I’d decided on a happy medium—somewhere between slow erotic food porn and the back-of-the-club anonymous take-all-you-can-get-and-run food porn.

Shane smiled as he teasingly waved a small salad plate in the air.

“I guess you won’t be needing this.”

He placed one plate in front of him and the other off to the side—I had no need for mine since the mini bites of goodness weren’t going anywhere except into my mouth. As I held the box of quiche-filled treasure tightly to my chest, I saw Shane’s lip curl into a stupid, sexy smirk.

“So, can I have one?” His brow cocked as he watched me eat my fourth…or was it my fifth, quiche.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I mumbled with a mouth full of food.

I grabbed one, lonely quiche and tossed it his way. He caught it, effortlessly, which wasn’t surprising since he was only sitting a few feet away and was a relatively decent catcher, although I wouldn’t ever tell him that.

He held the quiche at eye level and looked at me like I was crazy. I decided to ignore the cute and playful way he’d tried to interact and get to the point.

“You said you wanted to talk. You can’t talk with a mouthful of these, so you get one.”

I smiled and tossed another bite into my mouth, which only made him keep smiling. Okay, maybe I didn’t want to completely ignore him. I didn’t hate making him smile, I didn’t hate having him in my house, I didn’t hate eating with him, and I didn’t hate looking at him. I did, however, hate the fact things seemed so easy between us—as they’d been before everything went south.

I’d wanted him to give me a good explanation, one that’d wash away everything that’d happened, yet, at the same time, I was nervous to hear what he had to say. Time seemed to crawl and the air thickened as I waited for him to say something…anything.

He reached into the box and pulled out a handful of quiches before setting them on his plate. “I’ve been thinking about this moment, non-stop, for days and now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.”

I started counting with my fingers.

“You could start with why you freaked out and left my house, why you stopped talking to me, why you brought a date to the bar, and why you talked shit about me. Or better yet, why you dated me if you found me so repulsive, which brings me to the real question I’ve asked twice already—why are you here? You made it clear, to everyone, the real reason we were together, so I don’t know what you feel there is to talk about?”

I was surprised to find my tone wasn’t rude or hostile—I guess genuine curiosity is a powerful suppressant. Shane’s eyes shot up with surprise and any nervousness, he might’ve had, vanished with my questions and his brown eyes were almost frantic.

“A date? What are you talking about? Aside from you, I haven’t been on a date in years and, even then, I’d hardly call what I did, dating.”

“Friday night, remember? You came in, after the game, laughing and flirting with the brunette twink.”

“You mean, you?” he asked, seriously.

I couldn’t believe his response. Me? Hell, no!

“Are you serious?”

I hated being referred to as a twink when directly related to the slob he’d brought to the bar. We were not the same person.

“We barely talked and what was said between us would never be classified as laughing or flirting! Maybe murderous, or even uncomfortable tension for those around us, but not laughing or flirting. No, I’m talking about—what’s his name, David?”

I knew his name was Davis, but for the sake of pride I’d never admit that.

“Davis? Pardon my language but, fuck no! I can barely stand to be around the guy let alone flirt with him or laugh at anything he says.”

“Then why did you bring him?”

“Because I didn’t have much of a choice. He works for the hospital and I had to meet with him before we met up to deal with the big contract. He basically invited himself and made it impossible to say no and believe me, I tried…hard!

“As for everything else that happened that night, I’m sorry and I doubt there’s any conversation we could have today that would suffice, but the short version is—I have no balls. It’s the same reason I didn’t stand up to my dad during the reunion.

“I always feel as though I’m trying to prove myself and I was still trying to impress Davis for the job, which is no longer an issue. A little too late, I know.

“I already explained the communication error, but if you need to hear it again, then I’ll say it as many times as I need to in order for you to understand. Nothing I said had anything to do with you. It was a long running commentary about my dad and the stupid things he says. There’s lots of them, by the way.

“If you hang around long enough, I’m sure you’ll hear them all. Also, for the record, you do have a tight ass, which I feel strongly about, and under no circumstances do I find you repulsive, not even a little. Lastly, and probably most importantly, you are exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for.”

By the time he’d finished his little speech, he sat tall and confidently on his chair and there was no doubt he believed every word he’d said, but I wasn’t sure I had. He appeared authentic, I just wasn’t sure I could trust him, even though I wanted to. Regardless, one thing still bothered me.

“Okay, then please explain the morning you ran out with your tail between your legs.”

He knew what I was referring to. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against my chair while his tall, confident stance regressed and his eyes softened ever so slightly.

“Well, it isn’t something I easily talk about, but I should’ve been honest with you right away. Everything happened so fast and, before I knew it, I felt it was too late and I didn’t know how to backtrack, which made everything worse. The more I think about it, the more stupid it all seems. It’s possible that, over the years, I’ve overblown the situation in my head.”

Shane glanced down at the quiche he was nervously turning into crumbs before setting it on his plate and wiping the crumbs from his fingers. He put one hand on his lap as he ran the other through his thick, auburn hair before continuing.

“It’s so stupid. It was after a big finals party during my freshman year. I’d gotten crazy wasted and, at the end of the night, I went home with a guy. Honestly, the whole night is kind of a blur, but I vaguely remember having sex before passing out. I was still drunk when I woke with excruciating pain. It took a second to get my bearings and that’s when I realized the guy was fucking me, or trying to, I dunno. We fought for a second before I overpowered him and kicked him out.

“I know it sounds lame and maybe it really is a terrible excuse, but that’s why I freaked out when I woke up. Granted, what you were doing was a lot more enjoyable than what he did, and didn’t cause me day’s worth of pain and discomfort, but still…”

I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. More than that, I couldn’t believe the ease with which he’d told me. I felt like scum for what I’d done. I should’ve known. I’m a nurse. I have training on this stuff. I know the statistics and I just ignored it. I couldn’t stop feeling terrible about it. I leaned forward and buried my face in the palms of my hands.

“I’m such an asshole! I can’t believe I did that to you after you were raped.”

“What?”

I uncovered my eyes to find Shane staring at me as if I’d told him I preferred sex with chicks.

“I was not raped!” His voice left no room for argument.

Unsure if I was understanding the situation correctly, I slowly asked, “So. It was consensual?”

“No, of course not. I was passed out, but I was bigger than him and I stopped it as soon as I realized what was happening.”

I slide my hand toward in a gesture of comfort.

“Shane. That’s most definitely rape. You were passed out when he forced himself on you and, by the sound of your recovery time, not very gingerly, either.”

“It wasn’t rape! It was a bad experience.”

His face was set in a hard line that matched the tone of his voice. I didn’t know who he was trying to convince, me or himself, but I wasn’t buying it. Everything he’d told me was textbook rape. Although I worked mainly in Pediatric Oncology, I’d worked many rotations in the emergency room and had dealt with more than a few rape cases and it was common knowledge that men tended to have a harder time admitting.

Of course, I understood it. Being raped felt similar to admitting that you’re too weak—that you can’t defend yourself—which is never easy for a man. Then there was the real fear that other guys will make fun of you because of it. ‘Are you saying you didn’t want to have sex?!’ The whole rape double standard was fucked up and Shane was a classic example.

The nurse in me wanted to lay the facts on the table and talk some sense into him, but I had nothing in my favor. Our relationship, to whatever degree it was, wasn’t at a healthy enough place for that kind of conversation. As hard as it was, I had to let the topic go—for the time being.

“Okay. I’m still sorry for what I did. If I’d known—”

“I know. Trust me, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted to explain. Honestly, it was only a momentary overreaction.”

The more he tried to downplay what had happened, the more I wanted to take him into my arms and console him. I hated the fact he’d waved the situation off as if it was no big deal because it was a big fucking deal! I wanted to wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze the stupidity from his pea-sized brain, but instead, I took a deep breath to regain my composure, pulled back my own emotions, and allowed him to deal with things the way he wanted.

“Regardless, I’m glad you told me. It clears up a lot for me now that I understand the bigger picture, so thank you,” I smiled, warmly.

Shane’s broad shoulders visibly relaxed after my acceptance. I could only imagine the burden he’d been carrying around (for years) and how good it must’ve felt to let it go. His eyes filled with something resembling hope and anticipation as I also noticed him puff up more than usual.

It was almost as if he was trying to make himself bigger and assert his manliness, which made sense after his enlightening revelation. If the atmosphere hadn’t been so tense after his rape bomb, I would’ve smiled at his big, manly stature that didn’t match his nervous, hopeful expression.

“I don’t want to make assumptions, but does this mean we’re okay?”

“Yeah, of course we’re okay.”

How could we not be? He’d admitted to being raped and I wasn’t about to tell him to fuck off, not that I’d wanted to anyway.

His eyes narrowed for a moment as he took my words in then he spoke, slowly, and his voice was full of hesitancy.

“Okay—I guess what I really want to know is, where does this leave us?”

“I guess it leaves us where we were, minus the anger and silence. So, friends?”

At that, he leaned back with one arm draped over the back of the chair while his other hand softly drummed on the table.

“Honestly, I want to be friends with you about as badly as you want me to dump your kitchen trash. To quote you earlier, it’s not what I’m looking for.”

“Come on, Shane, what did you expect?” I wasn’t rude, but I wasn’t exactly cotton candy, either.

“Evidently, a miracle.” His voice was neutral as he rose from his chair and brushed the crumbs onto his plate. He grabbed the rest of the garbage and dirty dishes from the table before making his way to the kitchen to dispose of the mess. Once setting everything in the sink he walked to the door.

“That’s not fair,” I said as I followed him to the door.

After he was outside, he turned and faced me. His face was the poster for “too cool for school” and the idea he’d felt the need to pretend as though he was unaffected by anything and everything drove me nuts.

“You’re right, it’s not fair and I’m sorry. I know I’m not good enough for you, you make it obvious every time you point out my mistakes, but I’ve never liked anyone the way I like you. I’ve never tried with anyone the way I have with you. It’s not easy being repeatedly rejected. It wasn’t easy coming here and sharing everything with you—to tell you something that not even Aaron knows—just to be shot down. I tried. I took chances with you that I’ve never taken with anyone else, but in the end, it’s not enough and that’s okay. In the end, I know I did everything I could, but I don’t want to be friends. It’s humiliating enough to be shut down, I don’t need a constant reminder.”

He fidgeted with his keys then slightly raised them and waved farewell as he stepped backward, toward his truck and smiled, except it was empty.

“I guess, I’ll see you around.”

I leaned against the door frame as he walked away and felt incredibly guilty that he’d gone through all of that, he hadn’t processed it, and I’d taken advantage of him. He’d come and poured his heart out to me only to be rejected, again.

I felt guilty about: having always given him a hard time, I’d probably taken the anger from my past and projected it onto him, and the fact my pride wouldn’t allow me to do anything about it. If that wasn’t enough, I felt pretty shitty about having sex with the twins. We might’ve been broke up, but it was clearly over a misunderstanding. He’d even tried to talk to me about it at the bar and again after the reunion, only to be blown off. To make it worse, if at all possible, my first and probably only three way, would forever be tainted with guilt and regret.

*** *** *** ***

He wasn’t joking when he’d said he’d see me around—he was everywhere. At the salon getting his haircut (something he knew I didn’t want him to do), the ballpark (obviously), the gym, and the park. I would’ve suspected he was following me, but half of the time, he was there before I arrived.

At first, it was awkward, but he was friendly enough and, although he didn’t go out of his way to talk to me, he didn’t completely ignore me, either. Cordial would’ve been the best way to describe our relationship. I couldn’t complain since it was basically what I’d wanted. Regardless, it didn’t stop me from secretly pouting like a whiny bitch or doing stupid things to get his attention like intentionally dressing for him or discreetly flaunting my body at the ballpark when I knew he’d be watching.

I was confused. I wanted him, but I wanted him to want me more, and I didn’t want him to give up. I wanted a big, grand gesture, but I also didn’t want to cave-in. Obviously, I was acting like a fourteen-year-old girl would and I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

Professor of the Arts.

*** *** *** ***

It’d been two weeks since brunch and it was the practice before we were to play our third game against Shane’s team. We were in the middle of a heatwave. DAKS’ team was sweaty and exhausted from the scorching temperatures, and they decided to end practice a few minutes early while my team was in no rush to start. As usual, we ended up in a group; talking about nothing and everything.

“It’s so fucking hot today,” I groaned.

I took my shades off then pealed my shirt over my head before wiping the excess moisture from my face and neck. I could’ve left my shirt on, but it was hot and Shane was there. I tried to mimic every hot babe from every soda seduction commercial Pepsi had ever produced. By the time I looked up from dabbing my neck and chest with my shirt and moaning from the excessive heat, I had almost every pair of eyes glued to me, including Shane’s.

Between my faithful visits to the gym and the time I’d spent sun worshiping, I knew I had a body worth ogling. I wasn’t overly buff like a gym rat, but I wasn’t skinny or scrawny, either. All one hundred sixty-five pounds of me was a perfect blend of soft lines that hid hard muscle.

I didn’t have a ripped six pack, but my stomach was tight, toned, and completely on display as I rolled the high waist of my baseball pants down until it was sitting on my pubic bone—any lower and I would’ve easily revealed what was at the end of my “happy trail.” There was nothing but silence as I held my water bottle to the side of my face and slowly slid it down my neck and chest.

“Aren’t you guys dying?” I asked the group of speechless, gawking men.

Drew smacked his lips while his eyes pursued my body. I smirked at his trance-like state, which rendered him totally oblivious to anyone else. Shane must’ve seen me watching Drew because the next thing I knew, he elbowed Drew and knocked him out of his daze.

“Yep, dying,” Drew mumbled as he wiped his lips.

I glanced at Shane, who was now doing a really great job of trying to avoid me. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment because I’d gotten his attention. I’d been working hard over the last two weeks and I wasn’t entirely convinced I was successful, until then.

I tossed my shirt onto the ground next to my baseball gear and lifted my water bottle to my lips. Once I’d quenched my thirst and gotten as much attention as possible, I put the bottle down and broke the silence that had overwhelmed the group since the start of my ballpark striptease.

“Are you guys ready to get your asses kicked…again?” My question was for the DAKS who laughed in return.

“After you guys lost to Riley’s Restoration?” Aaron scoffed. “Riley’s Restoration! No way! We’ve got this in the bag!”

In an effort to defend our honor, Sammy shouted back, “Give me a break! Half of our team was gone and Eddy had a broken arm!”

“Whatever. It was Riley’s! They haven’t won a single game…ever! Except against you guys!” Aaron laughed

It was true, the only game we’d lost all season, up to that point, was to the last ranking team. It’d made their week and they’d made it their mission to make sure everyone knew they’d won. We didn’t mind, though, because they were great guys and super fun to play against.

“Whatever. Don’t let your heads inflate too much, it makes the burst of failure that much worse,” Nelly mocked.

“Do you care to make a wager?” Drew asked.

Nelly stepped up to Drew, albeit several inches too short. “Name it.”

“If we win, we all go to that gay bar, Rafen’s.”

We looked at each other with confusion because it didn’t sound like much of a loss. Hell, we’d probably end up there anyway! Before we had a chance to agree, Drew was shaking his head and waving his finger in the air as if telling us no.

“Let me finish because you get too excited. We go to Rafen’s, but…we get to dress you however we please!”

We looked at each other again, but that time we silently agreed on our half of the wager.

Nelly agreed. “Okay, but if we win, we dress you and we all go to your favorite straight bar.”

Everybody nodded in agreement as it was obvious everyone was confident their team would win.

“Dibs on the twins!” Drew shouted.

“Same,” Nick and Nelly shouted the same thing while pointing at Drew, indicating they were going to dress him, which were equal parts of terrifying and intriguing.

“No fair!” Aaron whined. “Fine, I get Sammy and Oliver.” Aaron had clearly wanted a two-for-one deal. As they looked at each other, I saw ideas twirling through their minds. Aaron’s “Steve Irwin” costume had been a topic of many conversations so I knew they were going to try to top it.

Allé and Kurt smiled at each other and silently paired off because they’d become friends, something to do with the fact they were both the quiet and mature ones of the groups. That left Shane and me, which left me feeling all sorts of nervous, yet excited. Shane, on the other hand, looked completely indifferent and wildly underwhelmed by the pairing.

The chatter was full of excitement as threats were thrown back and forth before we finally had to start practice. After saying our goodbyes, but before actually parting ways, I gently pulled on Shane’s arm. He glanced at the spot where my hand was touching his arm and then looked at me with confusion.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything…too crazy.”

I meant it. I wanted him to know he could trust me and I wouldn’t cross any lines by making him overly uncomfortable. I still felt bad about what had happened to him in college and what I’d done to magnify it—under no circumstances did I want to make it worse.

“You can do whatever you want,” he smirked.

“Yeah?”

I was more than a little surprised that he’d be cool with the possibility of me having unrestricted access to his wardrobe before going to his favorite watering hole. He shrugged his shoulders and started taking a few casual steps backward.

“Sure, but you’ll have to win first. I’m not too worried, since you lost to Riley’s and all.”

“Asshole,” I laughed at his stupid, cocky smile.

He pointed at me.

“You on the other hand, should be terrified.”

Before I had a chance to respond, he’d already turned around and was walking to his car. During the last two weeks, I’d been very intentional about not checking him out because I didn’t want to violate him.

But…that butt in those baseball pants…

I couldn’t peel my eyes away as I watched his muscular legs carry his gorgeously, thick ass away from me. It wasn’t only the old grey baseball pants that did all of the right things for his body, it was the thread-bare T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, too.

I’d never understood why freckles had such a bad rep because Shane’s ginger freckles were sexy as fuck! I loved the fact he wasn’t a gym buff, yet, you knew he was as strong as a safe. I’m not a super small dude, but I loved having his body wrapped around mine as much as I loved wrapping my body around his.

I’d needed to stop thinking about Shane and focus on—well, anything else. I shook the thoughts from my head and walked toward practice and away from my affinity of a certain auburn hunk who’d been dominating my thoughts for way too long. I’d made my choice and as hard as it was, I knew it was for the best.

*** *** *** ***

“We need to pull it together. All I’m seeing is error after stupid error. It’s not complex stuff we’re missing people! Earl, you missed a fucking baby grounder that turned their hit into a triple. Sammy, you threw the ball to third when there wasn’t even anybody running to it! This is our last inning and if they make even one run…it’s over!”

My words were hollow. I was ready to hightail it off of the field and straight to my car so I could blast the ice cold AC. It was the hottest day in recent history, well above triple digits—and there wasn’t a breeze to be found.

Everyone in the huddle had red faces, those who dared to wear shirts were soaking wet from sweat, and eyes were full of defeat. It was obvious that a long work week, paired with the excessive heat, was killing our desire to win.

“Seriously, I couldn’t give two fucks if we lose this game. I only want to sit in front of my crappy AC unit, with an ice cold beer, before I die of heat stroke. I don’t work outside, as most of these guys do, so I can’t hack it,” Randy mumbled.

The rest of the group nodded and whined with agreement. I couldn’t blame them because I felt the same way. For a moment, I thought about the DAKS and the bet we’d made. They’d gloat, which would be understandable, then Shane would probably make me wear something super slutty to the bar.

Honestly, I would’ve probably worn something super slutty anyway simply because I wanted to. Shane lacked imagination and experience in the gay-club culture, even the stretch of his wildest imagination would’ve been conservative compared to what other guys wear to the clubs. I breathed a breath of relief because I knew I was relatively safe from any lifelong embarrassment.

“Well, if we’re all agree, then let’s go out there and lose to these landscaping bastards whose energy feeds off of the sun’s harmful rays.”

I reached forward and, eager to finish this game, everyone followed suit.

“Fuck this shit on three. One, two, three.”

“Fuck this shit!”

We grabbed our mitts and ran to the field so we could play the last inning of the scorch trials.

We lost. I’d pitched the last inning because no one wanted to do anything, and I didn’t try very hard, either. They made several runs, we called it a game. They looked as exhausted as we were. It wasn’t until we’d lost that the team started to hustle—to the dugout so they could gather their things and go home.

As Aaron walked toward me with his equipment bag thrown over his shoulder, he cried.

“Leave it to you to find a way to lose and make it so we can’t enjoy it! I demand a rematch!”

The rest of his posse weren’t far behind him but they didn’t appear to be as willing to move quite as fast in the blistering heat.

“What are you moaning about? You won, we lost, end of story.”

“You guys weren’t even trying. It was like you were pitching for T-Ball. No one moved unless the ball was coming directly to them. We didn’t win, you guys lost the will to play.”

Aaron dropped his bag in front of me and a few moments later Drew, Kurt joined him. Shane hung back, which was slightly irritating.

“Regardless, you guys get to dress us up like sluts and take us dancing so quit your bitching.”

I playfully pushed his shoulder and was rewarded with a dazzling smile from, not only Aaron, but pretty-boy Drew, too. Shane appeared to be amused, but mostly, he stood there looking bored. Drew rubbed his hands together, like Dennis the Menace would, as his smile widened and his eyes danced with endless possibility.

“I spent a few hours on Google and found some very good ideas for the twins. It’s going to be epic!”

“I’d love to have a look see at your search history. Ten bucks says you weren’t only looking for gay club attire,” I teased.

Aaron and Kurt roared with laughter as they cupped their mouths and watched their best friend blush ever so slightly at being called out.

“Whatever. We’ll see who has the last laugh when Shane gets through with you,” he smirked as if he knew something no one else did, but I shrugged because I knew it was a bluff.

“I’m not worried. There’s nothing Shane can dress me in that I haven’t worn clubbing before. If anything, the guys at the club will be shocked at how conservative I look. They’ll probably think I’ve gone straight or something.”

I looked at Shane in hopes I could give him a teasing look or a cocky smirk and prompt some sort of repartee from him, but I was sadly disappointed. He acknowledged that he’d heard me by shrugging his shoulders, but he still hadn’t looked at me. As it turned out, everything around him was far more interesting than me.

I wasn’t stupid. I’d turned him down and, because of that, I couldn’t possibly have expected him to keep trying. After all, I’d made myself crystal clear.