“I need your room.”
“No.”
He shuts the door.
And I realize there’s something else I need to do.
I dash the other direction down the hall and bang on a different door.
This one opens slowly.
Diego peers out at me with hurt and questions lingering in his brown eyes.
Fuck.
“I’m treating her right.” I talk softly. God only knows who’s listening, but my teammate,my friend, needs to hear this. “I promise you, I’m treating her right. I know you like her. I like her too. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I know it’s complicating the hell out of everything, and I know I should’ve told you, but I need you to know I have no intention of hurting her.”
There’s no smile.
Noit’s okay, Mister Coop.
Just a wary raised brow.
“You know that feeling when you call the right pitch or you throw out someone trying to steal a base or you hit a home run, and it’s like, the world is even more magic for that split second when you’re even happier playing ball than you are just to be on the field?”
He nods slowly.
“That’s what this is like, except all of those split seconds of magic are lasting for minutes and hours and days. She’s incredible. I like her alot.”
“You’re Mister Cooper,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I do, bud. We’re teammates. I know you like her. Iknewyou liked her. And I started dating her anyway. I should’ve told you. I should’ve given you that courtesy. I mean it, D. I’m doing everything a good boyfriend should do. She’s special.”
He blinks once, and then his smile lights up his face again. “You think we’re equals.”
“Dude.Diego. We’re teammates.We’re equals.”
His smile gets bigger. “I’m happy for you, Mister—”
“Cooper,” I mutter.
“Be good to her, and I’ll be happy for you. I like being happy for my friends. I still love her. Too much, like you said at the bar. She’s your equal. Not mine.”
Jesus. This kid. “We’re good?” I ask.
And now his smile is blinding the hallway. “We’re good, Coop.”
I clap his shoulder as my own door opens and Tanesha peeks out at me. I havegotto get inside a safe room. “Thanks, man.” And then I dash back down the hallway and bang on Max’s door again.
He flings it open again and shoves his phone in my face. The screen shows a text message from my sister. Tillie Jean’s not on this trip with us because she’s filling in for staff on vacation at Dad’s restaurant back home.
One day she’s gonna run all of Shipwreck.
Right now, she’s running my worst nightmares instead. And I once dreamed I was on the all-you-can-eat buffet inside a tree, being eaten alive by a flying giant panda-slash- praying mantis. I have some pretty fucked-up nightmares when I’m stressed.
You were right. It was Waverly Sweet, and that dumbass has been hiding it from us. Also, Pop got totally suckered by a reporter in pirate gear and overshared about Cooper’s superstition. Has Diego seen the news? Don’t even make that face. I know you secretly like him and you know this is important both personally and professionally.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I breathe.
