Page 52 of Double Play
“First off, fuck you, Sean.” Kai points his bat at him, then smirks and says, “She absolutely did.”
Brooks raises his hand. “Do we have to wear shirts?”
“Yes,” Coach Johnson barks from across the room.
Brooks groans, and Mike leans over and whispers something to him that makes him blush.
Jackson leans into my shoulder. “If Brooks gets arrested tonight, we’re ransacking his locker.”
“He has nothing worth taking,” I say.
Jackson’s smile turns wicked. “I’d take his sunglasses, just so I could chuck them in the ocean.”
“Don’t touch those things; they’re practically a biohazard.”
The clubwe end up at is a beast. Bass thrums through the walls like a heartbeat. Lights strobe and pulse, turning everyone into fragments. The air is thick with perfume, sweat, and expensive liquor. It’s loud enough that you feel it more than hear it, and the crowd parts around us with that subtle recognition people get when they see athletes. Phones lift, eyes tracking us. People pretend not to stare while staring anyway.
We claim a booth at the back.
Kai is immediately in his element, sitting like a king, scanning the room with that grin that says he’s here to cause problems and call it bonding. Gael looks mildly annoyed until someone hands him a drink, and then his shoulders loosen. Brooks disappears for five minutes and comes back with two numbers written on his hand like a teenager.
“You are a disease,” Jackson tells him, then looks over at Mike, who is staring at Brooks like he hung the moon.
The man is so in love it’s painful to watch.
Brooks points at Jackson’s face. “Says the man who’s going to get kissed stupid in a club bathroom tonight.”
Jackson chokes on his drink and I sip mine calmly.
Maybe not a bathroom, but definitely the hallway leading there. Or outside.
Shit, maybe right here in the booth.
“Oh, it’s happening.” Kai leans back and smirks.
Jackson’s ears go red. “Stop.”
That makes Gael laugh, shaking his head. “You guys are so obvious it’s painful.Carnal, nobody cares. Which reminds me…” He turns to Kai and Sean. “You fuckers owe me money.”
The banter rolls, easy and familiar—that fun, platonic filth real teammates toss around like sunflower seeds. Someone makes a joke about bat length. Someone else says something about “stroking the wood.” Kai nearly falls off the booth laughing. Jackson hides his face in my shoulder like he’s embarrassed to be seen with these men.
I keep an arm around him, thumb tracing slow circles against his hip, and he leans into it without thinking.
Without fear.
A waitress drops off a tray of drinks, and Brooks tips like he’s trying to buy the club. The man flirts like it’s an Olympic sport. Gael texts Adriana again. Jackson drinks water between sips of his vodka soda because he’s learned, because he’s trying, and because he knows I’m watching and he doesn’t want to scare me again.
And I shouldn’t be this proud of a man drinking water, but I am.
He catches my gaze and narrows his eyes.
“What?” he mouths.
I tilt my head. “Good boy.”
His eyes widen a fraction and he kicks my shin under the table, and I smile into my drink.
My good boy.
