“Yelp reviews,” Pink said with a snort, plucking a stray blueberry from Tucker’s plate anyway. “Listen to this guy. He’d be lost without the internet holding his hand.”
“I don’t need the internet for that,” Tucker shot back. “Not when I have a hot partner with a huge, pierced—”
Brock stuffed a forkful of his breakfast poutine into Tucker’s mouth. Unruly laughter broke out amongst our side of the table. I should’ve known better than to take the seat at the head next to Brock. His boyfriend clung to him like a fucking barnacle.Where Brock went, Tucker followed, and where Tucker went, his roommate, Roman, usually wasn’t too far behind. And so on and so on, until I was seated at a table with the entire Roasters starting roster.
Roman smiled into his coffee. “Now, this is my kind of breakfast talk.”
Matty leaned back, draping an arm around the back of the chair beside him like he owned the place. “Speaking of girlfriends,” he drawled. “Mine’s pissed I didn’t bring her out here this weekend. She’s obsessed with barn weddings, so this place would’ve been like her Super Bowl.”
Pink groaned, and Soren smacked him across the stomach hard enough to knock the wind—and his mouthful of bacon—out of him.
“How are things going with . . . Lila?” Soren asked.
Between the twitch of his jaw and the way he said her name, I had a funny feeling that Soren wasn’t a fan of Matty’s girlfriend.
“Honestly, not great,” Matty answered solemnly. “I think it’s time to end it.”
A round of half-hearted nods circled the table. No one looked particularly surprised—or upset.
“About damn time,” Pink muttered, stabbing at his omelet.
Wes arched a brow. “We were wondering how long it was going to take you to figure that out.”
“This has been a long time coming, dude,” Tucker said. “The real question is how are you going to break the news to your devil dog?”
That drew a round of laughter, though it was the kind that came with a few side-eyes. Nobody said it out loud, but the truth hung in the air—there wasn’t a man at this table mourning Lila’s exit.
Matty leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. No elbows, though—he was a Southern gentleman, through and through. “So, what you’re saying is that none of you liked her?”
“Nope,” Pink said, popping the “p.”
Soren coughed into his napkin. “She was . . . fine.”
“Fine like gas station sushi,” Roman offered, earning a snort from the rest of the table. “No offense, man.”
“We just know you deserve better,” Diaz said flatly.
He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth, but not before I caught a flicker of relief in his eyes.Interesting.The kid had been Matty’s shadow since day one, the first to volunteer for fielding drills with him. Hell, the two of them had shared a hotel room for half of last season.
And judging by the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips from the opposite end of the table, I couldn’t help but wonder if there might be something more to their dynamic beyond friendship, at least from Diaz’s perspective.
I made a mental note to keep an eye on that.
Pink leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs under the table. “True love is out there, boys. Nessa’s flying out next month for our Michigan series, and then we’re going to drive to the Upper Peninsula and go blueberry-picking. That’s true love.”
“Clarke’s the same way,” Soren said wistfully. “Last week, she dragged me to this pop-up fashion show. I thought I would be miserable, but it turns out, I kind of liked it.”
Pink smirked. “You liked it because she sucked your dick on the limo ride home.”
“How the fuck did you—”
“Women talk, bro.”
Soren didn’t even bother denying it, just sipped his coffee with that satisfied look of a man who knew he was whipped and didn’t care.
I couldn’t blame him.
The table rippled with a chorus of laughs and mock kissing noises, but none of them meant it. Beneath the jokes was something quieter, more grounded. A couple of my guys had found partners who steadied them, who gave them something more than the game. And as much as I tried not to think about it, I couldn’t help but picture Dani filling that same spot in my life.
