“Touché. My whole point in all of this is if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. So is the rest of the team, the coaches, and staff. And not just because you’re Jed Stone’s son. The talent you have?” He whistles. “You’re a franchise’s wet dream. Even with the issues you’re having with your throws, you have the most RBIs out of any of us this Spring Training, and every other aspect of your defense is tight. Even in your fucking slump, your game is better than most players ever get to be.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as a wave of emotion rollsover me. I don’t think I realized how much I needed to hear those words. “Thanks, Sanders. I mean it.”
“Damn. That almost sounded heartfelt. Two un-robotic moments in less than five minutes. Is your system about to short-circuit?”
I just shake my head and wing a sardonic brow at him, but somehow the cloudless day just got a tiny bit brighter.
“What’s this? Are we having a super-secret shortstop soiree?”
Urgh. Nevermind. I recognize that voice—a certain up-and-coming shortstop. The guy has no problem inserting himself into conversations. He flits around from group to group, soaking up every ounce of attention he can get his hands on.
I turn to face him and am assaulted by the sight of a dripping wet Shane Michaels. His puppy-dog grin is in place, blue stare bouncing between me and Sanders. His chest heaves from running straight up from the water, board shorts plastered to a pair of muscled thighs. Fuck my life. Everyone knows wet bathing suits hide nothing.Nothing.
I grind my teeth and stare out at the water as my gut goes rigid, and my hands clench on my thighs before I force them to relax.
Sanders chuckles next to me. “A super-secret-fucking-what now? Say that five times fast. A tongue twister if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Nothing my tongue can’t handle,” Michaels fires back.
Oh, God.
“The ladies can attest,” he adds.
Even though I’m not looking at him, I’m 99% certain he winked. Everything about the guy is loud, even his expressions.
Sanders bursts out laughing. “Man, to be a young cockyshit. Those were the days. I was actually trying to convince Pebs here to get off his surly ass and have some fun.”
“Pebs?” Michaels’s voice raises an octave, and my attention snaps to his face.
“Ah, you haven’t heard yet? Stone goes by Pebbles.”
Michaels’s face is pure glee. “Howadorable.I can’t believe you haven’t shared this with me yet, Pebbles.”
“It’s usually Pebs,” I grunt out.
“Oh, no, no, no. I think Pebbles is so much better.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Is it because of your unusually smallstones?” He bounces his eyebrows.
Sanders loses it. I, on the other hand, try to murder Michaels with my gaze. It doesn’t work.
“It’s because he’s Stone Junior—Little Stone,” Sanders manages between gasps. “But God, that is great.”
Michaels’s grin fades, and his eyes turn serious. “No hate, though. I didn’t mean to imply there was something wrong with small balls, man. Small balls deserve love too. Plus, they have their advantages. Easier for the ladies to put in their mouths, ya know.” He winks at me.
My mouth drops open. The sheer absurdity of the things that come out of this guy… It’s like an unending stream of whatever pops into his brain.
A choking sound bursts from Sanders—who is clearly loving this exchange. “That was actually part of what made the name that much better,” he wheezes. “Clearly, you haven’t met the monster yet.”
I roll my eyes behind my shades. Here we go.
It’s not exactly something you can hide in our vocation. There’s a lot more privacy now compared to how it used to be—private shower stalls and all that—but after decades in team locker rooms, modesty isn’t really a thing any of us have.
Oh, the fucking irony. All thesestraightmen are always commenting aboutmydick. Imagine if I said something similar about them? I can already hear HR calling.
I do my best not to walk on eggshells, because I fucking hate the double-standard, but the reality is, it’s all jokes and locker-room banter until someone is actually queer.Then suddenly it’s “too far” or “uncomfortable.”
“Met the monster?” Michaels glances between us.
“Let’s just say, Pebbles here is at risk of giving some of us a complex with what he’s walking around with.”
